Not Ready Yet
Turns out I panic when deciding to ask for help
Still going strong! Right? Right…
I was feeling all high and mighty motivated yesterday, and after a therapy session had determined that a great action step for me would be to start working on my “I don’t need help” attitude. Smartly, I recognized baby steps were the best start, and that I needed to start with a *minutely* small thing.
So today, I thought it’d be a great idea to make a post on facebook, for possibly all of my friends to see, essentially saying it’s really hard for me to ask for help, but I actually have a lot of useful skills, and I think I could accept monetary help if it meant I could give in return.
And for whatever reason, it grew from a simple facebook status to the idea that I needed to make this a blog post, or a promotion so people would know I was serious.
Except I quickly realized I wasn’t. I stared at my screen for a solid twenty minutes, tried something else, and then my thoughts swept into the possibility that no one may answer. Or that I would have plenty of people contact me and start having enough hours that what I do could be a part-time job, and there is pressure to get a “real” part-time job. Or even that job openings would be sent to me and I would feel obligated to apply out of need instead of having a choice, and then guilt over “not wanting” a particular job.
I was going to wash my car today, and instead I wasted close to two hours this afternoon fretting over tangents off of what I listed in the above paragraph. Thankfully, I at least recognized when I was starting to have physical symptoms of anxiety (ok, it took a little bit…) and saw I was getting nowhere.
What is different from my previous go-to method of “just going until it’s done” is that I was able to go lay down, calm myself and accept that I simply asked too much too quickly. That’s it. It’s not a reflection of my character, nor of my commitment to this process and others I’m juggling at the same time. In fact, this was a healthy response to legitimate self-made anxiety. There was never a threat, but I sure as hell created one. I don’t entirely know why I have such a hard time asking for help, though I’ve gained some insight over the past year and a half. It’s an attitude I’ve perfected and obsessed over for at least half my life, and it still plays a big role in most of my decision making. This time, however, I was able to put out the fire before I got burned.
Progress made, small and not at all my original intention, is still progress. And I even made a post out of it.