We’ve all heard it. Heck, we’ve all said it:
“You choose your attitude.”
“What you put out comes back to you.”
“Thoughts become things.”
And on and on.
And d’you know what? MOST of the time, I really do believe that stuff. I really do.
Most of the time.
But how do you go back to that frame of reference when circumstances in life have left you feeling so tired, so beat up, so discouraged, so blue, that that frame of reference might just as well be on Pluto?
It’s no secret I have depression, controlled most days with happy yellow pills. I would love to not take them, or not have to take them, but for now, they are my best friends.
And because of my best friends, most days, I can be like Wonder Woman and her super-power wrist bands, fighting off anything yucky.
Lately, though, the batteries on my super-power wrist bands must be dead. I just can’t hear anything bad right now.
But, and here’s the thing, I HATE asking for help. Hate it. Hate. It. And I HATE venting/dumping/unburdening whatever it is I’m going through on people I love or who love me. I don’t want to burden them, or make my problems, their problems. Or worse, have them tell me their problems so that I know they know what I’m talking about? And then I’ll take on their problems too!! (My back just tensed even typing that!)
Okay, you’re thinking. Go talk to a stranger. Go to therapy. See a counsellor. I get that. I’ve done that. And I liked it. But actually finding a therapist with whom I am comfortable? Not so easy. The last one I went to made me feel I was in a principal’s office. Hard, straight-back chair, no pillows, no arm-rests, no tissues. She sat behind her desk and looked at me (in my mind) disapprovingly. And when I would curse? Oh, dear goat. You would think I just kicked her ferret.
Not good. So now I’m a little gun-shy, so to speak.
I REALLY want to get back to believing those happy statements.
So, I’m dumping my woe into the interwebs, so that I can let it go. Sorry to be a debby-downer.
MagAndMoo's Blog 
Misadventures in Motherhood
Hi there! I’m stopping by from Studio 30 Plus, and I love your blog — I’ve already read several of your posts, but this one really resonated with me. One thing that I try to remember when things get rough is that, for the most part, friends want to be there for us. It makes people feel good when they can be there for you and lifts them up too.
Of course that’s all easier said than done — asking for help is extremely difficult for me too! I find that blogging is a tremendous help — in fact, I’ve stopped seeing my therapist altogether since I’ve started blogging… LOL! And the funniest part about it is that I write a humor blog, so it’s not even like I’m “venting” in the traditional sense. I’ve just found that making fun of all the things that generally make me crazy seems to help!
Anyway, you are a sweetheart — I love what I’ve read so far. Do you have an RSS feed to subscribe to? Maybe I just missed it, but I’d like to subscribe either via Google Friend Connect or RSS reader, and I didn’t see a button… of course, I’m not always operating on all cylinders, so I could have just missed it.. he he…
Anyway, have a great weekend!
Smiles, Jenn
http://www.misadventuresinmotherhood.com
magandmoo
Hi!! Welcome and thank you for stopping by!
I love your comments. And I think if I start blogging more regularly again, it will help.
I don’t know how to have an RSS reader button, but I will add one once I figure it out. 🙂
Stop by again.
Mo
I’m not good at asking for help either. I could be drowning in front of a crowd and wouldn’t dare to ask for help. I like to pretend I have it all together even when it’s clear that things are falling apart around me.
I haven’t done therapy before but I’m a big believer in everyone needing it at one point or another. I think it’s my time now. I just can’t get over that hump of asking…
Sending good thoughts your way. xo
magandmoo
Thank you for your comment. You are always so positive!! 🙂
Chibi Jeebs
Asking for help is my Achilles heel, too. It’s a combination of not wanting to admit I can’t do it all by myself, not wanting to be a burden, and fear that I’ll work up the gumption to ask for help only to be denied.
*big, fat, squooshy bewbie hugs & extra love*