Accepting Help

My crutches

A couple months ago it was my turn to learn to accept help. I hate it. I want to be totally self-sufficient at all times, or at least to maintain the illusion that I am. I had foot surgery (from which I have recovered).
Darned if my husband wasn’t called away right after the surgery. And darned if he didn’t make sure I had someone in the house to bring me food, etc. You know…to wait on me hand and foot. The agency sent a very kind and capable woman. And I resisted. No, I wasn’t mean to her; I just didn’t utilize anywhere near all the services she was willing to offer.
I have to be macho, after all. Never mind that I was hobbling around on crutches.
Making better use of these services would have been a great opportunity to heal with more ease and comfort.
This is a reminder to me of why people hesitate to reach out for help when they are dealing trauma, grief, or other issues. Many of us revert to our 2-year-old self–you know, the one who grabs the coat out of mom’s or dad’s hand and puts both arms in the same sleeve rather than feel the least bit dependent.
Years ago, I heard the expression “First you adjust, then you re-adjust, and then you maladjust.” I did that with my bunioned feet till it didn’t make sense to maladjust any more. With surgery, there is a short time when the pain is greater than it was before, followed by the joy of healing.
Similarly, a counseling experience will likely help you feel better by degrees, but there is always a risk of emotional pain when dealing with unpleasant issues. Ask anyone who has had successful therapy, however, and they will almost invariably tell you it was well worth it.