I need help with something that happened today. Right now. And I know someone who can help me. There’s a 99% chance that if I sent him a message he would say, sure.
But I’d rather die.
As awful as that sounds, I’m way ahead of where I was with asking for help before CFS hit. I used to get a lot of kudos for my uber independence which says something about our world. The idea of giving seems to be well celebrated, but not the idea of receiving. Where’s all the giving supposed to go?
I will eventually get through the conflict in my head and say, “Please help.” One day I’ll do so without burning up so much emotional energy. But since the battle for this lesson is still being actively waged, I’d like to share another one that is mostly complete.
I love my hair. It’s curly in some places, kinky in others, with random strands that decided to be straight. I love it all and I’ve learned how to let it be its best. If I could have only understood that ages ago! Luckily it’s not too late. Natural hair is perfect in a time of Chronic Fatigue.
WEGO PROMPT FOR THIS POST: What’s a lesson you learned the hard way? Write about it for 15 today.