help

help

HELP

H.E.L.P.

HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!

help





help.

This is a BIG word.

It is an important word.

And i have some big troubles with it.

I just, for the life of me, can not ask for help.

I don't exactly know why.  I don't want anyone to know I need help.  It frustrates me to no end.  I actually get anxious and nervous and sweaty when I have to ask for help.  At home, at work,  doesn't matter. 

This past weekend, hubby and big kid went on a fantastic camping weekend.  I was scheduled to work, so my dear momma agreed to come and stay the weekend with me to watch the little kid while I worked.  Yes, I asked for help, but it wasn't so much for "I can't do this thing, I need help" but more a "Little kid can't stay alone, will you be able to help with this" kind of help. If that makes sense.  In my head it does....(unbalanced, yes I know)

So it was after this was agreed upon that I started to feel really really awful.  I had been suffering body aches and pains for a while, but now I was feeling very low and sad and depressed.

 

 

The house fell apart.  I think hubby just thought I was being lazy and terrible.  The floors were a gross dusty mess.  The kitchen was a slight disaster, but not terrible.  My bedroom...laundry piled higher than the bed.  Clean unfolded uncared about laundry.  The bathrooms were not awful, but not great.  The kids bathroom was much better than mine.  I figured that I was OK with my things being a disaster, but the kids shouldn't have to live in a mess of my doing.  All my energy went in to keeping their things tidy and clean.  Left no energy for the rest of it. 

Momma was coming on Friday to stay.  It was Tuesday that I found out what the heck was going on with myself.  I called her to let her know what was up and to just chat about it.

I confessed that the house was a disaster, a warning to her before she got here.
"So what?" she said.

I confessed that I was tired and cranky and sad.
"So what?" she said.

I confessed that I had so much to do and I just didn't feel like caring.
"So then, don't care about it" she said.

Don't care?  She told me "You are not capable of caring right now, and that is OK."

Is it ok to not care?  Not really.  But it will have to be acceptable....maybe?

So I took a little look around the house and told myself that it was OK.  Hubby would be understanding now that I have a diagnosis of something.  The kids will understand why mom has been so tired and lazy and detached and un-present for this last while.  I decided that for now it was OK to not care.  Just to take the time to get better, and wait to care again.

After careful explanation to all my boys, they were all very understanding and enlightened as to what was up.  Yes the big kid admitted he noticed I was different.  The little one told me I seemed tired all the time.  The hubby seemed relieved that I was just tired, and not tired of him. 


Friday evening the 2 big boys are on their way to camp, and the little guy and I wait for Gramma. Looking around the house I decide I just cannot let my mom see how bad it really is.  I clean the kitchen and the bathroom.  I dust the furniture and clear off the coffee table and dining room table.  I am about to start sweeping the floors when I look out the window and see my mom. I realize that I am so desperate to not seem like I need help. What the heck is wrong with me? When she comes, she comes with flowers and hugs and a stern, "Go to bed".

Next morning I drag myself out of bed, throw the piles of clean laundry on the bed, thinking I can tackle this project after work.  Off to work I go.  Busy day, lots to do.  I head home totally exhausted and done.  When I get home it is to the sound of a washer and dryer, hum of a dishwasher, and the smell of clean.  Oh no!  Someone has been busy.

I get in and say hi to the little guy.  Don't see my mom yet.  Go to my room to change and have a shower.  Sitting on the bed are ALL the piles of clothes, neatly folded and sorted.  Dressers are tidied up and everything straightened up.  The bathroom is clean and I am so grateful.  While I am showering it hits me hard. 

I feel so guilty.  I tried to "not care" but I don't know how to not feel guilty.

I am so guilty that I can't even keep up my house.  That I can't keep up with the kids.  That I am not keeping up my marriage.  Not keeping in touch with family enough.  Not making time for friends.  Not walking the dog enough.  Not taking care of the garden. Not going to the gym. Even for not wishing a happy birthday to someone on facebook. I mean really.  I am crying and heartbroken.  This is a really really low point.  Its like I can step outside myself and see how I am feeling, know that I am not being reasonable. Irrational even. Yet I can't stop it. 

After I shower I get changed into some comfy lounging stuff, find my mom, cleaning the other bathroom, and say a big huge thank you.  Even as a teen, I just couldn't stand to ask my mom for help.  But now she is here and giving to me. I never did ask for this help, in words.  I think she saw my eyes pleading for help.   I am humbled. I am ashamed. I am grateful.

I have to learn to ask for help.  I never think less of people that ask me for help. I am always willing to help them.  So why do I think people will think less of me if I can't do something on my own?  I need to find the balance between my pride and and my shortcomings.

I always tell the kids.  Just ask.  The worst you will hear is no. 

Should listen to my own advice.