learning to ask for help~ easier than it sounds

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relaxing with my feet out the window ~

The first thing I did when I came home today was take off my bra. On days like today, it almost hurts to wear one. Next, I put on the pajama pants I got a few days ago from my step dad (they used to belong to my mom). Pink with red polka dots, and the lightest weight of cottons. Now I can breathe deeper. I feel far more comfortable than when I was out buying groceries just a few minutes before. My MS is acting up a bit today. I feel sore in both arms, my right shoulder, and my back and ribs on my right side. That said, I was able to drive to the store, shop on my own, and carry my bags to the car. It helped (a lot) that my guy met me when I pulled up and without needing to be asked, carried all the grocery bags upstairs for me. He said he'd heard the car pull up and so he came down. Today I am (almost always) able to take help where I can ~ and this is something I struggled with before getting sick. 

I have a friend who is dealing with a really big medical situation just now. Actually, I have many friends who are in a similar situation, but for now I am going to focus on her. She is close to my age. She is a mom, a wife, and she works. She is busy as all get out. We spoke recently about loss, transformation, and letting go. We laughed (and cried a little) about becoming sick, about the fear of letting our family's help pick up the pieces of us as we find ourselves blown apart. Getting sick is scary as f*ck. Not knowing how things will ultimately pan out creates a storm of sorts, suddenly everything becomes uncertain and unmanageable. 

It's impossible to not entertain worse case scenarios. We want to believe we can handle whatever comes our way. Maybe if we imagine the worse possible outcome, we'll be better prepared? We want to stay strong for our children, for our mates, our employers. But sometimes we run out of strength. Sometimes we hope for some kind of miracle or for the doctor's office to call and say, "We've made a huge mistake! Turns out you're fine, after all!" Wouldn't that be wonderful? Unfortunately, this doesn't happen often. The reality seems to be that this is indeed just one of those unlucky situations that we'll have to walk through. Damn. 

Each of us are on our own path. I can tell a friend what it was like for me. I can stress how badly I wish I would've been willing to ask for help before I got so sick. Yes, I can share all of this, but it's hard to hear when we aren't ready. For all I know, someone most likely told me all of this awhile back. They might've tried (unsuccessfully) to offer me help. Maybe they even said there is nothing shameful in asking others for a hand. They might've even suggested (God forbid) that I slow down. If they did, I'm sorry now that I didn't listen. They were right. I did need to slow down, but I didn't trust that everything would keep moving along without my efforts. Spoiler alert, the world kept moving along just fine without my directing the show. 

Now I write (in comfortable clothes). I find solace in typing out how it feels to be in my skin. I am learning, slowly, how to be kinder to myself. I'm also learning (even more slowly) that I don't have to run the show. By stepping back, I have seen everyone around me pick up the slack and help out. It might not be in the same way I would've done things, but who cares? It's not like my way was the only way (I'm still learning to accept this one). What I am left with is more time. More energy. More willingness to practice self-care. I do struggle with feeling selfish when I take care of myself. I don't believe I'm so unique in this, as I'm guessing most have been here. So here goes my unsolicited advice once more, to anyone who feels like listening:

Take care of yourself ~ body, mind, and spirit. Allow those who love you to carry you when life feels hard. Invite others in to help you out. Kindness offered is yours for the taking. Ironically, it makes others feel closer to you and in turn teaches them how to accept help (love). I once heard from my mom, that we teach our children most by our actions. When we take good care of ourselves, we teach them to do the same. Actually, what she really said was that if I could allow myself to cry in front of my kids, if I could show them my sorrow (fear, pain, etc.) and then continue on regardless of how messy life felt, that they could learn not to be afraid of falling apart. They could learn, instead, to expect that they will experience hardships and they will still be okay. What's more, if they can share their vulnerable selves with others, they will most likely feel relief even sooner, as they will have help putting their pieces back together.  

Amazing how even though my mom is no longer 'here', I can still hear her voice so clearly. Thanks mom, I love you. 

















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