I told Trisha today that I don't have time to be sick, and we laughed about the irony of my statement. I'm getting a cold, probably a sinus infection, and it feels like this possible ailment is going to "stop my life." Even though I don't do much anymore, this roadblock is something that I disapprove of, and honestly don't have time for. My best friend, in the way she always tends too, brought humorous, thoughtful relief to the chaos in my head over such a little thing as this. She said she saw a comic in the doctor's office the other day that read like this: "What would get in your way more? An hour of rest or 24 hours of being dead?"
This was maybe a little more challenging to me than the comic author meant it to be in general. It hit to a core of something that's been percolating in me though. I don't rest enough. I try to do too much. I cannot request help. Sure, it was a little stretch but that's how it went down in my head.
Somewhere in my messed up brain, I think that the opinion of the world must be the same as mine: people who ask for/accept help are inferior to people who don't have to do so. Over time I have come to realize this as a gross error in my thinking. It's not true, nor should it be in my thought life. But it is. Always true. Like a corrupt program in my brain. And if that virus can infect mine, I am certain it has done so to of the rest of the world. I'll blame society and work my way towards righting the wrong perception.
Until that perception is righted I will operate under my misconceptions. That somehow if I ask for help I am worth less than someone who does not when, in fact, the opposite may ultimately prove to be more true. I cannot come to terms with that fact the act of asking for/accepting help does not automatically equate the world thinking I am worthless. I've put effort into trying but it doesn't get fixed.
If I get to really seriously thinking about all of this what the end result is very confusing, even to me. My head tries to form around the concept and eventually smashes in on itself. I have a problem with help. I love to be on the "giving help" end, just not on the "receiving" one. It doesn't bother me much when people - other people - ask for help. I don't see that as a display of weakness or inferiority. My opinion that other people do see it that way always trips me up though. So I go around in circles in my head, fighting rest and acceptance of help because for me, even though not for you, it means I am weak and worthless. And that is the problem with help.
Back in college, in 2004 when blogging was hardly even a thing yet, I was here. Blogging before blogging meant anything to anyone. You can look in the archives for my past writings, but it was much more like a journal in the past. When we started fundraising, I messed around with the idea of launching something new for this new phase of our journey but actually hated that idea. I am a sum of all of my life and so much of it is here already. So I'm keeping it here. At least for now.
My main focus these days is blogging about our newest journey into the bizarre and wonderful world of gestational surrogacy. Posts dated 2013 and forward will trend heavily toward that journey. I don't promise everything I write will be about though. There might be other things that sneak in occasionally.
Please come along our journey with us. As the saying goes, "The more, the merrier!"
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