I am not good at these things. In the telling of my story, the biographers will not be kind to me in this regard. Until recently, I have been very stingy in offering help to those in need. I was helpful if an old lady fell in a parking lot, of course, I was right there to help her up, because not doing so would make me an asshole (ahem.) But in other less obvious situations where people needed help? Not so much.
It wasn't because I didn't want to help. I did, really I did. But at those times, I withheld my anemic urges to help because... I don't know, maybe because they hadn't asked, and who was I to presume? Maybe they needed money I didn't have, even if a little might have helped. Or maybe just because it was awkward. Them needing help, and me not knowing how.
But having now shifted from a lucrative (and sometimes glamorous) career, to one that is entirely unglamorous and focused entirely on providing help -- real help, immediate hands-on help to those who need it right now -- I'm coming to an uncomfortable truth:
We all need help. If not today, trust me: Tomorrow.
When I first started working with elderly clients who need help for the basic things -- bathing, going to the toilet, eating -- I was uplifted by visions of the gratitude I would win from them. Thank you! they would gush in my fantasy. I don't know how I survived without you! For some reason, I was surprised when they seemed to resent my presence in their bathrooms. I was there to help, after all. It took me awhile to understand that while they did perhaps appreciate the help on some level, nobody actually likes that they need my kind of help. Truth is, I don't always like having to provide it. But here we are, together, that person and I. Helping, and being helped, like it or not.
Asking for help is so difficult for me, and accepting it even more difficult. I resist it at every turn. I'm going to be one of those old clients of mine, the ones I secretly love the most, who slaps the hand away, the ones who can and will do it for themselves. But I hope I'm also one of the ones who can acknowledge what I cannot do, even though GODDAMMIT I hate needing your help.
Accepting help Is. So. Fucking. Hard.
But as someone who is now on the giving side of that thankless equation, I recognize that it's also not easy to offer help. So before I descend into my usual miasma of self-pity, I just want to say:
Thank you. It may feel like a thankless job helping me on this path to sobriety. But I do need your help, and I appreciate you more than I can sometimes say in the moment. To paraphrase a famous nun: "I may resent your help. Help me anyway."
As usual, the Beatles⃰⃰ say it best:
When I was younger, so much younger than today,I never needed anybody's help in any way.But now those days are gone, I'm not so self assured,Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.
