Asking for help has always been terrifying for me. Growing up in the sixties and seventies in a tumultuous household, I quickly learned that the only face I should show the world was a happy, successful one. Therefore, I didn’t develop the confidence nor the trust in others to reach out when in need.
Through recovery, I’ve learned that help is usually waiting for me if I just reach out and ask the “right” one.
But who ‘s that? A friend, a relative, a professional, a neighbor, an acquantance or a spiritual source? That’s the tricky part. That’s where I’ve made mistakes that further damaged my confidence and alienated me from others. In the past when I tried to ask, I often chose the wrong person, perhaps the one who had disappointed or wronged me in the first place; or someone who didn’t have the skills or emotional intelligence to help me face my particular problem.
Now when fear overwhelms me, I might not reach out right away while I’m in tears or perhaps in shock from a recent occurrence. But within a day or two when I’ve calmed down, I try to identify the true source of that fear, then I weigh my options. Who can I call that has the tools or resources to help me. And to whom can I safely expose my vulnerability?
These are the questions I ask myself and then I wait….
If I still don’t know, I can pray. Although I was raised with organized religion, praying doesn’t come naturally to me. But now I’m working on it without all that organization. And sooner rather than later, help comes—-usually from the most unexpected place. It’s quite miraculous…
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©Meryl Spiegel 2012–All rights reserved–No reproduction without permission