Why is it so difficult to admit we can't do something on our own? I hate asking for help. I will push myself harder and harder to try and make something work before I finally break down and realize that doing something by myself is not possible.
For some reason, I equate asking for help with failure. Somewhere deep down I can't shake the feeling that at 33 (almost 34), I should be able to take care of myself, and to admit that I've let things get out of hand is to concede that I can't accomplish something that's incredibly basic — something that others even younger than I am seem perfectly capable of doing.
And what makes the situation even more humbling — or perhaps even humiliating — is asking for the help from parents, and my problem with doing so doesn't come from guilt trips that they lay on me.
The problem is that I know they will help in whatever way they can, but they will worry. They will worry if what they're doing is enough. They will worry that something they did wrong caused this problem to come about.
There's no easy solution to the whole situation either. If I don't ask for help, I continue to flounder around and keep my head above water knowing that I'll eventually slip under. Asking for help, as I have done, reveals vulnerabilities and weakness and makes me feel lower than a street curb.
I apologize for the lack of specifics and cryptic tone of this post. The truth is, I just wanted to express what's been going through my head. No need to worry; I know things are gonna work out eventually. It's just going to take some time to get there.