By: Lindsey Doolittle
Read more of her journey on her blog!
Yesterday was not my day. I was struggling, in more ways than one. And it ended with me having a huge meltdown over a jammed seatbelt. Super cute, right? You don’t have to say it. I’m aware. It was just one of those instances where I was so exhausted, that working on getting that seatbelt to budge was the last straw. And I sat in the garage and cried. Like a grown up. So I’m gunna talk about something today that I’m not very good at. Asking for help.
I don’t know if it’s out of pride or embarrassment, but I have a really hard time asking for help sometimes.
Part of it comes from not wanting to let people down, and some of it is wanting to figure it out myself- to be able to do it on my own. And sometimes I convince myself that it’s not that bad because I’m absolutely embarrassed by the reality of the situation.
If you’ve read my previous blogpost, you’ll know that right now I’m dog/cat/house sitting for two weeks for the family that I’m nannying for during the summer. I’m in a city that’s not currently my home, which brings with it both fun and complicated things. Like people to spend time with. And my friends have been gone off and on while I’ve been here. That’s a lot of very alone time. And I’m on week 2. Almost there, y’all. I made plans and followed through with them the first week. I went to the gym and cooked and took the dog for a walk, ran errands, took a painting class. And it went well. And then the weekend came. And it was refreshing to take a break from dog sitting for 2 days, but… all of my friends were gone or busy. So it became super alone time.
I don’t know if you’ve spent that kind of time alone. Some of you (I hear you, mom’s), are like “oh my wooooord, that sounds heavenly!!” to which I reply, true, but only for a while. That’s a lot of time to think. And if you’re anything like me, sometimes that leads to some deep dark rabbit dwellings where there aren’t any Mad Hatters and tea with scones. The only things that dwell in that space are fear, doubt, anxiety, depression, and other rude hosts.
I was in a particularly rough thinking rut on Monday. I even was desperate enough to reach out on a few social media outlets with a vague “this is hard, what are your ideas?” And I found myself feeling really embarrassed that I had just done that. Admitted failure, defeat. I beat myself up about it for far too long, but then began to read a book I’ve been taking forever to read because it’s such a heavy topic. It’s called “You are Free” by Rebekah Lyons. I think I’ve mentioned it before. But I keep having to read a chapter, and then take some time from it. It’s heavy, and it’s important, and it’s something I want to be true in my life. So I keep taking (my dear sweet time) in between. I think every time I’ve picked it up again I’ve given myself the “girl, you started this book at the beginning of the year… mercy…” But then I get to the chapter, and read it, and the timing all makes sense. Does that happen to you? Where you seem to find things or read things at just the right time? That’s me, fo sho. (I mean, that’s God, let’s me real.)
The chapter I read was about asking. How sometimes we forget to ask, how it’s sometimes the hardest part, and how sometimes we don’t ask because we don’t actually believe the request will be fulfilled or that we’re worthy of it being answered. Like talk about heavy. I needed more coffee after it. And thankfully I had a new something to think deeply about and leave my wild thoughts in the hole.
After I read it, I decided that I could do something about my situation (because we always have a choice, either about the actions or the thinking of it all, or both really.) I sent a text to a friend who was now back from a trip and asked if we could make some concrete plans for the next day. And luckily she said yes, and that she felt desperate for some plans too. And then I checked my messages from my social media meltdown and had a few sweet friends who said “I’ve been there, here’s what I did.” or simply “Me too.”
Friends, there are no two more powerful words than “Me too.”
I also had a few from friends further away that said “what are you doing __day?” Asking. Who’d a thought, right?
We will never know or have a chance at getting what we’re after if we don’t ask. If you think about it, that’s all that God asks us to do too. He takes care of the how, we just have to ask. That’s our responsibility. And all that’s evil begs us to stay in hiding and in shame. It begs us to stay quiet, to feel embarrassed. But if we shed some light, if we are honest and vulnerable with it, if we ask, we have the opportunity to change it.
So back to that seatbelt I mentioned. I drove around the rest of the day, basically in a position that could have been dangerous. I mean that thing JUST clicked. I probably could have been cut straight through like a block of cheese and those cutting utensils that look like floss. (Everything is about cheese, get used to it. Everything.) Anyway. I felt like a T-Rex trying to drive while being smashed into my seat. This will be funny to me later, I promise. Y’all can go ahead and laugh. Turning corners was… ok, even I laughed at that. I was totally safe you guys, it was just really awkward.
I got to coffee and mentioned it to my friend, and she offered to look at it and try too after we were done with our soul spill. (Those are great, aren’t they? Like a breath of fresh air to tired lungs.) She came out and tried and it wouldn’t budge. I mentioned that I was probably going to take it to the dealer down the street to see if they could fix it. In reality I fully intended on driving it like that until the family got back, out of embarrassment. But due to it almost cutting my bra in half, I figured I probably needed to do something about it. She was so sweet and offered to go with me. Can we just take a moment for those friends right now? The ones that offer because they know you well, or because they’re simply willing to walk through it with you because they care about you. Thank you, those friends. Y’all are the very best.
So we drove over, and none of the guys could get it un-jammed. What can I say, pretty skilled, pretty strong. Which meant I had to make an appointment to get it taken apart. My friend offered to meet me there again tomorrow, and I called the family to tell them what kind of a mess I had managed to make. (The mom did mention that she’s nervous when I call her now. I mean I’ve only had to call several times with pet emergencies and such. Nobody’s going to be calling me to do that after all of this. I mean it’s not my fault, I just have THE best luck.) She asked me to have them also fix a few other things while it’s in that she had needed to have done, as well.
That somehow struck me on the drive home as I thought about what a disaster yesterday had been, and how today everything was working on mending those things. Because I asked. Because I put it out there, even if it was hard. To admit that I wasn’t ok, that I had a mess on my hands, that I needed help. And I was met with support, and other additional things being mended along the way.
It’s uncomfortable to ask, but when we do, after we do, even if it’s not until further down the road, we are met with peace. That we’re not the only one carrying the load, if nothing else.
So the next time you need company, ask. The next time you need healing, ask. The next time you need help, ask. The next time your seatbelt locks up and you’re driving around town like a T-Rex in a summer dress, ASK FOR HELP.
Just ask.
