We are taught from an early age not to yell for help when we are swimming in case we unduly alarm the people around us. I took this lesson right to my heart.
I have been thinking a lot lately about how I have somehow trained myself to resist help. Pride is partly to blame, never wanting to be accused of not being "helpful" is also a culprit. For whatever reason, I feel compelled to tackle most of everything I do solo. I repel help by not asking for it and assuming it's not needed, until it is.
I have, in turned, trained the people around me not to expect that I need their help and I have almost (almost) forgotten how to ask for help.
This weekend I needed help. I had a stressful situation on my hands (our hands) and I completely absorbed it. My lips were trembling I was so stressed out, I could not think straight, my heart was racing.
I took my son to basketball. The sun was strong and gorgeous and we walked slowly home together. I asked him to help me, not by discussing my stress, but by saying yes to his request to walk through the public gardens. I kept saying yes to looking at the geese, and taking all the detours I too often railroad over. I asked and he eagerly took the lead.
I accepted his help and it helped.
When I got home,I asked for help from my husband. I said out loud: "I can't handle this, I don't want to feel this way any more, help me get perspective." And he did it, without question. Just like that. Within minutes, the adrenaline drained away and my whole body regulated itself again.
Now that I have asked, and they have helped, I know one thing. I need to keep on asking and yelling for help.