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?)
Need examples?
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.)