Struggling to accept help

So, you've read some about my amazing support system--I love each and every one of them. I'm extremely blessed and I know that my support system would do anything for me.

The only problem with that is, I don't like asking for help. Plenty of people offer help, and I'm sure my life would be a lot less stressful if I accepted the help, but I can't.

When the struggle with my health first began, I didn't mind asking my family for help. I will fully admit that I was whining left and right, because I simply had no idea what was going on. The pain was nothing I had ever experienced before, I didn't understand why I was sick all the time and I was definitely in the "woe is me" stage.

At age 17, I got into a semi-serious relationship...and the reason I say semi-serious is because, really, how serious can you be with someone when you're 17 and you spend 70% of your time in the hospital? I'm not saying it's impossible, but that just wasn't the case with me.

Anyway, this boyfriend (we'll call him Henry for privacy's sake...though I don't know that he deserves it), was with me when I was really sick. I was in the hospital at one point, and they had to do a bacterial culture of my blood...which required them taking an unhealthy amount of blood from my body...I mean, I could only see my left arm (the arm they were taking blood from) and I could tell I was pale just based on the color of my arm.

Back to the story, Henry was fairly supportive for 6 months, then he started to get distant, even though my health seemed to be on the uphill climb. After about 8 months, he sat me down and simply stated that he "had changed his mind" and that "I was a burden."

Those four words have forever changed my life. 

For most people, it would seem ridiculous that almost 6 years later, something like this would still have such impact on someone--but it seemed/seems so plausible.

I am sick constantly. The break in my posts these last few days is because I somehow came down with the flu...in August. I randomly spike fevers, I get debilitating migraines, I have to constantly watch what I eat because of my wheat/gluten intolerance and my hypoglycemia...it's constant with me. I can't just say screw it and go eat whatever I want--that's virtually a death wish.

Because of my health, my family has had to make changes. My brother, sister, mom and dad have been forced onto a different diet because of me. My mom, graciously, has taken different cooking classes to learn how to cook for me...all of this with minimal complaint (my sister likes to give me a hard time, and while I know that it's in good fun, some times it just hurts.)

Whenever I had to miss class, I apologized  profusely. Apologized to the point where I think I had more than one professor get angry with me for apologizing.

Honestly, "sorry" should probably be my middle name. If I have to apologize, I don't just do it once. It becomes an OCD-like trance where I am apologizing at least a dozen times.

At one point during my freshman year, a good friend of mine asked me, "Why do you apologize so much?"

The short answer? Because I cannot stand the thought of being a burden to others. I cannot fathom people constantly worrying about me. I hate it. I worry enough about myself. There are people dying. There are people who are fighting worse battles than what I endure--worry about them. 

I don't want to become a burden. I don't want to be that person.

Now, I can hear the protests of my friends and people reading this saying "BUT YOU'RE NOT A BURDEN IF THEY CARE ABOUT YOU!"

Yeah, I've heard that. I've heard pretty much everything. Unfortunately, that doesn't change anything in my mind.

If I so much as do something minimally wrong, I apologize for days. When Emily drove me to the hospital, I thanked her for weeks. It took me being on the bathroom floor, laying over the toilet for me to ask her to drive me to the Emergency Room because I knew I couldn't take myself. It will take me until I'm bent over in half in pain to admit that I need to go to the doctor and ask someone to take me.

Are there times when I'm sick and I call my mom crying and ask her for help? Yes. I'm almost 23 and sometimes I just want my mommy and daddy. But calling them is completely different than being at home and having them take care of me.

Every time I get sick, every time someone offers to help me when I'm sick, I hear Henry's voice in my head..."I'm sorry. I've changed my mind. I just can't. You are a burden."

Those words have ruined relationships because I can't accept help and they can't understand why, so if you're struggling like I am, accept the help.

Those people love you, they just want to help.

I just wish I could take my own advice.

Until next time, stay strong. 

“There's no need to curse God if you're an ugly duckling. He chooses those strong enough to endure it so that they can guide others who've felt the same.”
― Criss Jami