Asking for help is hard but worth it
I've been through the wringer.
In the last six months, I had my first major surgery to remove a tumor and ovary, I unexpectedly lost my mom, and my beloved job as an editor at my hometown newspaper was eliminated.
I'm over the saying "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." It doesn't. It might ultimately shake some enlightenment your way, but why should we have to nearly be killed to receive that? I am beginning to just accept that shitty times are just that: shitty.
Despite the cynicism my recent experiences have injected into my bloodstream, I am trying to rely on others to bridge the abyss it feels like I'm facing. I'm doing something I've rarely done. I'm accepting help.
I know I can't be alone in thinking it's burdening others to accept help from them, but why is it we believe that? Is it inherent or is it social conditioning? I'd argue a bit of both, which makes it doubly hard — at least for me — to take people up on their offers of help or support.
In October of last year, I had the surgery I mentioned. It was invasive, and it left me rocking 27 staples and dealing with such intense pain. As medical providers in our area steer clear of anything other than low doses of pain medications, I was in misery. A good friend crashed on my couch the first night, but I was determined to make it the next two weeks on my own. Why on earth I did that to myself when every friend I have offered to help with day-to-day tasks, I do not know. But I did.
Moving forward two months, I lost my mother to pulmonary fibrosis. Her health had been compromised for some time, but she took a sudden turn and was just gone. It was 12 days before Christmas, and I put on the bravest face I could to get through the holidays. It was a rough go. Within three weeks, my grief had triggered a bipolar depressive episode, which I knew I couldn't manage on my own. So I did something out of my comfort zone. I reached out to my provider and asked for help in the form of a higher dose of my regular meds.
She sent relief my way immediately, and right then, a lightbulb lit above my head. Advocating for myself was actually a good idea. Simply by asking, I received what I needed to pull through in that moment. Now, listen, I'm still in the depths of grief, and I still really suck at leaning on my friends for support — I don't want to be the Debbie Downer — but I'm trying to get better at it.
The thing is, the person you're asking for help also feels good about the transaction. People enjoy feeling needed and having their skills or time be appreciated in that way. I know this from my most recent job, leading a newsroom. I loved when my expertise was called upon. It made me feel necessary to the process, which honestly, feels like a warm hug, doesn't it?
You'd think, with that insight, I'd have taken people up on their offers of help this entire time. But no. Why make things easy on myself when I can sulk and eat mini Kit Kats instead?
So, let me catch you up on my present situation. After nearly eight and a half years, my time at the Mason City Globe Gazette came to an abrupt end via phone call three weeks ago, letting me know my position was eliminated effective immediately. Devastated doesn't even begin to cover how I felt. That job was a part of my soul. I loved every minute of it. I learned, grew, and thrived in that newsroom. Aside from my family, it was everything to me.
This development, along with the other jarring events that had consumed me in the past half year, became just too much to process. Doubly bereft, I knew I needed to reach out for help. And I did. I'm taking people up on their offers to help me land back on my feet in any way they can. I touched base with a former editor and mentor, who sends me job leads and helped me with the first cover letter I'd written in over a decade. I accepted an offer from a friend who does job coaching on the side to hone my interview skills. I took up an invitation from an out-of-town relative to come visit for a couple of days to take my mind off things.
In each one of these instances, the lightbulb above my head shone brighter and brighter. I have some stellar connections, and I am learning to see them not only as great folks but great resources. I don't feel guilty when I use Google for help, why should I feel that way when I ask an actual human for it?
I still feel awkward asking, but the answer's always "no" if I don't try. I'm blessed to be surrounded with an amazing circle of friends and colleagues — people who care about my success and well-being. They are an asset, and leaning into them is not something to be afraid of.
As I continue to fight to keep my head above water, I think I'll turn to those who have life preservers within reach.
The very wise Mr. Rogers always said, "Look for the helpers." And so I will.
Lisa Grouette is a proud member of the Iowa Writers Collaborative, a group of Iowa writers, authors, and content producers. If you enjoy hearing from Iowa voices, please consider helping to broaden their reach with a paid subscription. Your support goes a long way.