Asking for Help

 

I'm a determined person. I don't like the idea that I sometimes can't do what I want to. After all, we grow up hearing "you can do whatever you set your mind to". So it sucks like a vacuum when you realize you actually don't get that luxury. When your body says "LOL, cute. But actually, no you can't." POTS has taught me a laundry list of things, one of the biggest is just simply asking for help. I used to be terrible at this. (Let’s be honest, I’m still not great). Terrible at admitting that I can't and terrible at asking for help. I felt like it said something about me if I did. I didn't want anyone to think I'm weak, lazy, or that I push responsibility. It's a pride thing. As my illness has progressed I've needed to get used to the idea of asking for help. Whether that's helping myself by using the electric cart at Target despite the looks I may get or the hardest one, saying those three tough words: "I need help". Today I did. Today I let myself try to put together a cart, but when I realized what I was doing to myself, I stopped & asked for help. And guess what, the cart was still finished AND bonus: I didn't completely deplete myself of my "spoons"...all thanks to those three sweet sweet words. And the best part is I'm not beating myself up because of what I couldn't do...but instead, I'm dang proud of myself for honoring my body and saving my spoons. This whole chronic illness thing calls for a lot of adjustments, constant trial-and-error, and a boatload of grace. Today was a perfect combo of all three. Baby steps, you guys!