Asking for Help
I asked for help yesterday. I asked for my inpatient health records - all 21 hospitalizations worth - and that a friend read them first, before me. In doing so, I asked for clarity - the truth - and I asked for it to be shown to someone outside of me first for sake of my well-being.
The whole endeavor terrified me. I have no idea what all those pages hold. My medication induced hallucinations, of course and my attempt and the hours I spent in the shower screaming. Those are the things I know. But what else? What other darkness lies in those pages? What pain did I cause? What hardships did I inflict? What happened when I was confined between four walls?
The asking humbled me to my core. It took my breath away and kept me up last night.
And, I will be better for it. Yes, in leaning into the discomfort, I will be better for it.
It has taken me years but I finally understand that asking for help is not just an act of pure courage. It is also a gift to those we ask for help from. Asking for help is the door that lets our people in.
I do not know if my friend will walk through the door. I do not control their decision, their step forward into this frontier of uncertainty and work.
However, I do know, that no matter their response, I am leaving it open. Whether it is this soul or another who joins me, I am ready to hold space for someone if and when they feel ready to join me in this darkness I cannot bear alone.