In a world where joy often feels overshadowed by anxiety, the weight of our struggles can feel like a burden we carry alone. We’re taught from a young age that it’s our responsibility to bear this weight, no matter how heavy it becomes. The fear of appearing vulnerable or weak can silence our pleas, making it difficult to reach out for support. As we grow older, we tend to keep our feelings and pain to ourselves because the expectation to be strong and independent is deeply rooted in us. It’s a tough reality to swallow, isn’t it? Sometimes I wonder what my kindergarten self, so eager to grow up, would think now. It’s a thought that doesn’t age well.
However, I can’t help but admire those who bravely ask for help, who show their vulnerability without shame. These people have a special place in my heart because their courage is truly admirable. Yet, I realize it’s not something everyone can do – it’s something even I struggle with.
Throughout my life, there have been moments when I’ve felt vulnerable, overwhelmed by the weight of it all. But, I was taught to be strong, to protect others, and to have a mature mindset from a very young age. This upbringing has shaped me into who I am today – the one who finds it hard to ask for help, the one who would rather drown in her thoughts than burden others with her troubles. It feels like collecting shattered pieces of glass scattered everywhere. I bleed as I gather them, but I keep going, telling myself it’s just a small bleed that will heal eventually. However, it leaves scars – small ones at first, but they deepen as I continue to ignore the need for proper care.
These wounds, like the scars they leave behind, are not so easily forgotten. The plaster I use to cover them only works temporarily. Eventually, the wound starts to bleed again, the plaster becoming soaked and useless. It’s a cycle that repeats, each time leaving a deeper wound that’s harder to mend, just like problems can grow and become overwhelming when the support is needed to truly heal.
Is it the fear of asking for help or the ego speaking? I often find myself caught between these two forces. On one hand, there’s the fear that others will judge me or think less of me if I admit I can’t handle everything on my own and the worry that I am not capable to be someone to rely on. This fear wraps itself around my thoughts, convincing me that seeking help will expose my vulnerabilities and make me seem less competent, less reliable. Also, there’s the ego, whispering that I should be able to manage on my own. It tells me that asking for help would minus my point for being reliable. The ego convinces me that I am supposed to be unbreakable, even when I feel shattered inside.
So, is it the fear of asking for help or the ego speaking? Perhaps it’s both, mingling together to create a barrier that keeps me from reaching out. But deep down, I know that seeking help doesn’t signify weakness, rather, it’s a way to be kinder to yourself. It’s acceptable to admit that you cannot tackle everything alone. Releasing the grip of fear and ego can unveil a deeper opportunity — the chance to unlock the door to a room you’ve been trapped in for too long. Inside, there’s a part of you that yearns for gentleness and reassurance, a part that longs to be comforted and understood. And amidst all the pain and struggles, there’s a belief that maybe, just maybe, everything will fall into place. It may sound like a lie, but sometimes, believing in that possibility is enough to keep going.
