Learning to ask for help

A life lesson in asking others for help

I don’t know about you, but I find it difficult to ask others for help.  I am naturally independent, I like that I am strong, healthy and able enough to largely do what I want, when I want – without relying on others for support.  I don’t like to “bother” people and would rather muddle through on my own than ask for help.

The past 10 days however have made me re-think this.

I’m an avid Formula 1 fan, as is my father and youngest son.  At the start of this year we decided to go to a Grand Prix – a lovely trip just the three of us.  At the end of July, we headed off to Belgium for one of the most iconic races on the F1 calendar.  The day we arrived, excited and skipping, I did a silly little run over a low wall (like tiny, two bricks high), landed badly on a dip in wet grass and went over both my ankles.  Despite the excruciating pain, I was convinced they were just sprained – I could bear weight after all…walking wasn’t easy, in fact it was almost impossible.  Fast-forward several hours later and I’m hobbling out of Maastricht University Hospital on crutches with one badly sprained ankle and one broken one.  

I was distraught.  I had been looking forward to this weekend for almost 8 months.  As had my Dad and son.  

Despite being in pretty much agony…the crutches helped but with both ankles injured…well, let’s just say the 4-5 km round trip I had to walk from the car to the circuit each day for 3 days was NOT fun.  But I was NOT going to let this ruin my F1 weekend for me or, more importantly, my son.  So, I carried on as much as I could and really enjoyed the racing.

Where I struggled was relying on my Dad and son for help.  

The walk from our seats to the toilets was on stoney, uneven ground – so my Dad helped me there, held my crutches whilst standing outside the cubicle door and helped me back to our seats.  It felt so undignified.

My Dad had to do all the driving.  I love driving, and quite like a wee drive abroad – it’s exciting!  The driving was long and tiring for him.  I felt so guilty.

My Dad and son did everything in our apartment during our stay.  My Dad sorting our breakfasts and making the packed lunches, my son bringing me my water, painkillers and pillows to raise my leg.  I felt like a burden.

At the airport on the way home, my Dad sorted our cases, dealt with check-in, passport control and helped me up the plane steps.  I felt like a helpless child.

Then I got home.  My mum visited and I cried.  She made me a coffee, did my dishes and sorted my washing.  I felt incapable.

Since then, I’ve had to learn to ASK FOR HELP.  

I asked my eldest son to help with some housework, I asked my ex-husband to cut my grass and put my bins out, I asked my friend if she could drive me home after a visit, I asked my dad to take me to the chiropractor, I asked my mum to take me to the vet, supermarket and to the hospital.  

I do have perspective.  These have been pretty small requests for help and I realise it’s only a broken ankle – it’s not life threatening and in a few weeks after some rest and probably a little physio – I will be back to normal.

But this has been HARD.

I consider myself to be a strong person and it’s taken more strength than I realised it would to make each of those small requests for help.

Three people have said that the Universe is telling me something with this little interlude.  I’m not sure I fully believe that.  But I definitely feel there are some lessons here.

My oldest friend said to me that asking someone for help is giving that person something too.  It’s giving them a sense of purpose or feeling of reward, or something else that’s positive for them.  And thinking like that has definitely helped.  After all, I like to be asked for help and I am happy to help anyone in need in whatever way I can. 

The moral of the tale?

Every time you ask someone for help, remember that you’re giving something to that person too.  Remember how you feel when someone asks you for genuine help when they are in need or in a difficult spot – you happily help as much as you can, right?  Well, when it’s your turn to ask for help – that’s how they feel.

Oh, and don’t jump on wet grass like a 5-year old.  Your old ankles can’t take it.