0008-Asking for Help - Exploring why I don't


You guys know who you are...You don't ask for help. You don't see a reason to ask for help. You may have even asked for help in the past and were left empty-handed. I hear you. I see you.  And while I don't have all the answers for you, with a little hive mind inquiry I think a likely culprit was discovered – obligation.  
Have a listen and please be sure to drop me a note and tell me what you think. Anything else to add?  



Transcript from the show:
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Storytime! 

My therapist asked me, "So when you were a kid, what happened when you asked for help from your parents?" Chuckling at the thought, I said, "I never asked." See - my past has curated self-sufficiency so strongly for me that even as a kid, I resisted asking for help. I didn't anticipate actually getting help, so I never asked. I just did what I could on my own or I didn't do it at all.

Here, let me share a few examples of things I did on my own that kinda demonstrate the lengths I'd go to, to not ask for help.

I remember the first time I got lice. I'm not sure entirely, but I think there was some general fuss, not necessarily directed at me, about how I could have gotten it and then some griping at the expense of the treatment. I think, in a way, that discussion made me feel bad and dirty, like it was my fault.

I'm don't think that the treatment got rid of them the first time either. I remember standing in the bathroom running my hands through my hair over the sink, scratching them off my head , watching them fall into the sink, and feeling absolutely disgusted and overwhelmed.

Trying to figure out if there was anything I could do, I remembered that people would wash flea-ridden dogs in Dawn dish soap since it would smother and suffocate the fleas. I figured I'd give it a go. I mean really, what did I have to lose except the lice? I got in the shower and loaded my head up with Dawn. I made sure every strand was covered and I let it sit while I washed the rest of my body before I washed it out. After I got out of the shower, I spent even more time with the lice comb, methodically picking through my hair and making sure all the eggs were scraped off. I then went and washed all my bedding. I washed my hair brushes as well.

I never got lice again. I think that was somewhere around the age of 12-13, but I'm not sure. I suppose it's irrelevant.

This next story, I'm probably going to lose a few male listeners, but I feel it's a fairly important example. Yes, it's about periods. If that's making you squeamish at the thought, you may need to take a look at what kind of plant that is in your garden. Maybe. Perhaps. I won't get super descriptive or anything, so take some solace in that.

Anyway.

 I don't remember my mom specifically having the "period" talk with me. I think I'd mostly learned about it in magazines I'd read and from sex ed and health classes in school. When I started my period, I knew what it was. I used some of my mom's pads that first time and went about my business. It showed up again a couple months later while I was in school and I wasn't prepared. I was too scared to say anything to my teacher and since it was the last class of the day when I noticed, I figured I'd just try to make it until I got home. I pulled my pants up as high as I could without looking awkward and dropped my bookbag as far down my back as I could. At that point, I just prayed I would make the walk home without too much of a fuss.

I got home and went to the bathroom to survey the damage. Oh the HORROR that awaited me! I'll put it this way, there's no way my bookbag trick did a thing to shield what had happened. Fortunately, no one else walking home from school that day ever mentioned it. It was mortifying enough that I didn't need another person sharing what they saw with me. But I digress. Gah.

I stayed more prepared as the months went on and my parents finally sat me down for a talk. They noticed the pads were disappearing more quickly and wanted to make sure that's what was going on. I confirmed, and then also had to answer the question asked by the stepbastard whether I wanted to keep using those or if I wanted tampons. I'm pretty sure I felt shame as I avoided eye contact with him, my abuser, and admitted I'd rather have the tampons. Of course, I never said the word "tampon" and wouldn't, going forward. Somehow or another, they became coined "thingies" and that's what I wrote up on the dry erase board when I needed them. I never actually had to say that I needed "thingies" either. I could just write it on the board and pretend it showed up there, magically or something.

I was generally good in school, so even homework wasn't a thing I asked for help on. Either I understood it and answered the questions correctly, or I didn't, and didn't. I had more problems with focusing on classwork and actually doing my homework than asking either parent for help with something. I still managed to pass my classes though.

Even Christmas wish lists - those were written down and put somewhere "public." I didn't have to discuss anything with anyone.

Speaking of things I wanted, that does remind me of a few things I did ask for, growing up.

I loved horses as a child and was aware enough to know that my parents wouldn't be buying me a pony. In lieu of asking directly for that, I ALWAYS asked for riding lessons. Every single Christmas until wish lists stopped being a thing. I never got them.

Somewhere around age 8 or 9, I asked to take karate classes. I wanted to defend myself in case a bully (any bully) started a fight with me so I would know what to do to protect myself. My parents thought it was cute, especially when I bought a karate book at one of those scholastic book fairs. But nope, classes cost money, so that wouldn't be happening. (Also, it would have given me resources to be more of a threat to the stepbastard, so you KNOW that wasn't ever going to happen, though I didn't realize it at the time)

And then, somewhere near age 12, after having a molar crack while chewing gum, I asked my parents if I could get braces.

"No, we don't have the money for that."

Gee. Thanks.

I have held resentment for that for a LONG time, especially after going through the expense on my own to get them fixed as an adult. And at that point, it wasn't just braces, but also crowns and bridges. This is one of my "shoulds" but - if you're gonna have kids, be prepared to spend money on medical shit like this. I didn't ask to be brought into this world. I also didn't ask to be left with the massive expense of fixing my teeth since my parents couldn't be bothered with it. But, here we are. Here I am.

Gah…it just frustrates me, you guys. My crooked teeth caused plenty of ridicule while growing up and I'm very much still angry at the fact they didn't try or even plan for it. Yes mom, call me "beautiful" while "forcing" me to live with this trashy mouth. Sure. I believe you. Right.

Oh, and then of course there were those times I sought out help from my mom on stopping the sexual abuse which was only partly effective. Sort of.

As it is today, I typically only ask for help if there's something I'm physically unable to do - like, I need another set of actual hands. Otherwise, I'll just make modifications to what or how I'm doing something to make it work by myself. Or I'll just do the thing.

It's rare I ask for help with chores. I don't ask for help unloading things, even if it would go faster with another person. If someone offers to help, I normally tell the other person it's not a big deal and that I've got it.

I feel like if I ask for help, I'm making demands. I know both have completely separate connotations, but it's hard for me to see them that way. I think my therapist asked me why I don't ask for help. My response was, "why would I?" I have SO much reinforcement from my childhood that asking for things means nothing. I don't get the help. I haven't gotten the help.

It's a wonder I made it into therapy, ya know? That's probably one of the biggest things someone can ask for help with - "I feel broken. Something is wrong. Can you help?" I resisted it for years. Whenever someone suggested therapy or counseling to me, I'd shrug it off. "No, it's honestly not that bad. Sure, bad shit happened to me, but I'm okay."

I mean, I was okay right? I didn't turn to promiscuity or self-harm or drug use. I had a job. I had an education. I was able to make friends and was "pretty good" about getting into long term relationships. So, what else could I possibly need to talk with anyone about? Would they want to put me on meds just because I came in? No, no thanks. I'm good.

Then I get with a guy who's everything I've ever wanted. And we go through struggles. And then my friendships start fading. Then I start fading. Then I see me falling back into the same trap of emotion stuffing and pushing everyone away. I read old journals and see me doing the SAME EXACT THING. And since that was the past, I knew how those things turned out. I'd run. I'd abandon the things that stressed me out, including people, and start over.

Between those realizations and a new friend who took interest in me and my well-being, I decided to try. I decided to seek out therapy for help. The alternative was going to be divorce which would have carried the heavy guilt of it, for not having tried much at all.

*sigh* I've struggled a bit with this episode, you guys. I really wanted to dive into the reasons why shifting my view on this would be beneficial, but it's still so early in the game for me. It's at the stage where I KNOW I need to get over myself and start asking for help, but, it's hard. I don't have many experiences to base things off of on WHY there's a benefit to changing my ways, with the exception of easing the work load and allowing people in. And I'm so accustomed to just doing the things that the concept of asking for help is just plain foreign to me. So, knowing that, how could I reasonably encourage anyone else to start asking for more help, in their own lives?

I polled my Facebook friends about this to get the brain going. I asked them, "How do you feel about asking for help? (Beyond things you are physically not capable of accomplishing alone) What things do you ask for help with?"

Now, of course this was an extremely unofficial poll and completely not scientific, but the majority of the people who answered indicated they also resisted asking for help. It's common. Those that said they were good with asking for help noted that the reduction of work load helped them feel more relaxed, overall. Less burdened, if you will.

One interesting tidbit that surfaced - obligation. To a point, asking for help makes some of us feel obligated to the person that helped us. The way this plays out for me is that, if I ask for help from you, and you later ask for something from me, I'll feel indebted, even if I'm not the one best suited to help you. I feel that it's my responsibility to return the favor, even if it doesn't "feel right." And, when it comes to someone (ME!) that doesn't recognize their worth or their knowledge, it gets really uncomfortable being called upon.

One friend counteracted obligation with gratitude, and I think that speaks volumes on a perception that many of us may have. If we approach asking for help from others as though we are automatically going to be obligated to help them in the future, we're already off on the wrong foot!

Imagine if we approached it from a different perspective, one where we asked without any expectations of returning the favor and how we may fall short on returning the favor.

Imagine that we asked and then accepted that person's answer, unconditionally. And IF we got a yes, after letting all that expectation go, imagine how feelings of gratitude would come in to fill that space where obligation used to live! I like the idea of replacing obligation with gratitude, very much.

I do think obligations are gonna be a tough one to pull from the garden. It's one plant that can grow wildly large if left unattended, especially if you're the people pleaser type. Some folks, myself included, take on more than they should and obligations just pile up.

What does your plant of obligation look like? Creeping Jenny with its golden hue and knack for growing anywhere? Mint, with its ability to get tall and bushy looking, smells good when you mess with the plant but is terribly difficult to get rid of if it gets somewhere you don't want it?

Yeah, I think mine is like mint.

Anyway, thanks for listening guys! Your support means a lot to me, even if it's just a simple share on social media or to a friend or family member who you feel might enjoy the podcast too. Don't forget to send me an email at questionyourgarden@gmail.com if you have something you'd like to share with me. Also, I can't forget to give a shout out to both Kevin MacLeod at Incompetech.com and Scott Buckley at scottbuckley.com.au for the music transitions they provided for use in the show. Be sure to check out the show notes for any links or additional information from the episode.

Until next time, keep weeding!



Intro Audio: "Cold Sober" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com) 
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 
  
Transition Audio: 
"Wonderful" Scott Buckley (scottbuckley.com.au)

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