I will be the first one to admit it: I suck at asking for help. I just don't do it. I won't call up a friend and tell them I need someone to come over and kick my butt out of bed. I won't tell people if something is wrong. I just keep the mentality of "I am a big girl and I can handle it."
That mentality has gotten me in trouble in the past. In Germany, Ian was gone for 4 months on various trainings and I was working full time and had all three kids at that time. Well, just as Ian went into a week of blackout mode, everything fell down around my ears. Literally, all three kids got sick. Daniel (the one who was born with lung issues) was the worst off, then Natalie, and Emily was affected the least at this time, but even beeing the least sick, she was still really sick. Well, I had to take off work (a stress in and of itself) and take care of the kids. I took them to the doctor's where I was told to take Daniel to the hospital if his breathing worsened over night and the medication didn't help. Sure enough, that night, Daniel was having a hard time breathing (he was 6 months at this time) so I took him to the ER. Problem was, I locked my keys in the house at 10:30pm. So I had to wait for the locksmith to get my keys out of the house and then took Daniel to the ER with the girls in tow. The next morning I had to go back to the doctor's and they did a lung xray. After that was done, I just started crying. I was stressed to the max. Well, a friend from church happened to be there and asked what was wrong. When I told him, he immediately offered help with the girls and then called his wife to arrange her to make dinner for the girls and me. He scolded me for not calling anyone in the church before then, and he then went and activated my church to help me. Once Ian came out of blackout he called and I told him what had happened that week. He also scolded me for not calling the church for help. You would think I would have learned my lesson.
Well, in a way I did and in a way I didn't. I have been in situations where I should have asked for help, and I didn't. I talked to Ian's college pastor just before he left and he told me to call if I needed anything because he is only an hour away. I told him thanks, and then he asked if I was really going to do it. I told him the truth and told him no. He and I then talked about the history and my stubborn streak and my need to be "strong." He then told me that not one person can be strong all the time and that everyone needs help at some point in time, especially at such a trying time as a deployment. He made me promise that I would ask for help if I needed it. I saw that he was not just saying that and that he really was sincere about helping me. So, I agreed.
I have to admit, I did better this time. Last night, I was upset. I was sad and worried, mostly. So, I asked for help. Granted, I didn't exactly call anyone, but still put it out there for help. I posted on Facebook last night for my local friends that I knew if they did not help me get out of the house in the morning, that I would be curled up in bed all day. I asked for help and support, even if it was through a Facebook status. Sure enough, two of my awesome friends helped me out. They went to lunch with me. Simple enough, I know, but it was just what I needed. I needed to get out of the house and talk to other women. I needed to shake off the sadness I was feeling, even if it was just for an hour. It worked, too. Shaking it off and spending time with friends helped, not just for that hour long lunch but for the rest of the day too.
It is nice to know that when I ask for help, I have friends who will answer that call. I know I am that kind of friend too, and I hope they all know that. Today, I needed help. Tomorrow, it might be someone else that needs me to boot them out of the house, and that is okay with me.
Another day is done and I am just that much closer to holding my husband in my arms again.
<3
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