I admit it! I have a difficult time asking for help. I view it as a deficiency on my part although we have all received help at some point in our lives. No one was born with infinite knowledge and resources. It had to be learned; given to us. Somewhere, at some point, someone gave us a helping hand. On the flip side, I also don’t want to be a burden to anyone. You know, people rolling their eyes or sighing when you walk in a room.
However, I’ve been talking to some very wise people and doing a lot of soul searching. I’m proud to announce that I’m experiencing a change of mind and heart. There is no shame in asking for help. I still have to fight feeling like a burden or failure, but those thoughts don’t equal reality. Asking for help is OK! A sign of wisdom AND maturity.
This new revelation also diminished the Superwoman complex. I wouldn’t mind being Wonder Woman with the fancy belt and invisible jet, but that’s another post. Chronically speaking, I’ll even ask for help when experiencing a lupus flare. Sometimes I need help running errands or moral support. Many times I need the help to avoid having a flare in the first place! My life coach called it proactive care and flare care. (catchy, huh?)
Proactive care: Instead of climbing up the shelves at the grocery store, I’ll ask someone taller if they can get that box of cereal for me.
Flare care: Instead of trying to be “productive” at home when I’m having a flare (tripping, stumbling, dropping things and hurting myself in the process), I’ll call a friend for a lively chat.
Radical concepts! In conclusitory*, think before you say “call me if you need anything,” because your phone may ring!
(*I know conclusitory isn’t a word, but it sounds good.)