The hardest thing to do is to ask for help when you can’t fathom why you need it.
This has been a struggle for most of my life. In one form or another, I have always shied away from help. It made me feel weak and worthless; as though I didn’t have the power to stand on my own feet. I have had people helping me since my earliest memories without justification. I’m disabled, not broken, I can do it. Well, in fact, I do and have felt broken a lot in the past. My belief that I was put
in the wrong body, led down the wrong path and quite possibly, given the wrong support team has cultivated my modern day depression/anxiety cocktail. Drowning in pills and knife play has burrowed its way into the background of my life–for which I have grown accustomed, but feel guilty at the same time.
My strive for perfection has always been a hindrance to my personal and social growth. The ideology that I have created; this creed to never make the same mistake twice overwhelms me with pressure and now the blurred lines I have crossed with certain loved ones have left me lonely and confused.
I believe that I have been preconditioned to see only the negative in everything that I or anyone else does. The belief that I’m so great is a facade for the fact that I’m scared of everything in life. The anger I utilized as fuel to push my way out is the same emotion I used to keep me stagnate. The secret belief of feeling undeserving of love, the inability to start/finish anything I am truly passionate about consistent adds to my inability to relate to others until it’s too late.
The biggest problem I have is that I am objectively aware that I have a problem without a true means to find solace or resolution–whichever is easiest to find that I live happily with. Even with a therapist who listens and cares, I am missing something that I have been looking for my entire existence, self-acceptance. I have learned that neither a girlfriend, boyfriend, lover, friend, family member, therapist or medicine can provide me wholly. This one is my sole responsibility that I try hard everyday, not to let take me to the dark, deep hole I can’t crawl out from.
I used to think I didn’t need help. That I was strong enough everything thrown at me. I am wise enough to know better, through trial and error, love and lost. I have reached out for help, it just hasn’t reached back.