Why is it so hard to ask for help?

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“Asking for help is not a burden nor a sign of weakness; it’s a sign of humanness.” 

If you’ve ever shied away from asking for help because you fear that you may seem weak, you are not alone. I often battle with this misconception myself, and no matter how many times I reinforce the message that asking for help is actually a sign of bravery rather than weakness, I still find myself hesitant to reach out to others at times of crisis. 

The past week has been a tough one for me. The recent hot weather, lack of sleep, and the unwanted arrival of my period, meant I was exhausted and struggling to cope. This exhaustion triggered my anxiety and panic attacks, as it often does. My anxiety levels soared, and I felt hopeless and weak. 

It doesn’t matter how many times my anxiety peaks like this, or how many years I live with anxiety as a close companion, it still knocks me off balance every time. But often I’m my own worst enemy. I don’t always recognise the signs straight away, and when I do I’m always hesitant to admit I’m not coping, and accept that I need help. 

Lessons relearned

I know I talk quite a lot about how asking for help takes strength, and that showing your vulnerability and reaching out to others takes courage – it is certainly not a weakness and it is something that should be embraced. But I’m not always good at applying this to my own life and struggles, especially as through my blog I aim to help others, not burden them with my emotions. 

But I relearned a few important lessons this week:

  • It takes strength to ask for help
  • Other people want to help if they can
  • Just sharing your thoughts and struggles, not only reduces the negative impact on your mental health, but also brings you closer to others
  • The comfort of knowing you are not alone in the way you feel or act, in these moments of crisis, is very empowering

Let me rewind and explain what happened. My anxiety levels were so high last week, I found it impossible to rest. My mind was racing, which left no room for the calm I needed to sleep. The more I tried and failed to rest, the more frustrated, anxious and irritable I became. 

These feelings are all too familiar to me, I know the signs well and I have written about them many times. The following is taken from my post Trying to rationalise the irrational

“When my anxiety levels are high, I doubt myself – I doubt everything I do and say. Anxiety steals my confidence, even my ability to carry out familiar tasks which are like second nature. I often find myself irritable, short tempered, angry and confused. I become really needy and I need constant reassurance. My mind becomes so overactive, racing from one negative thought to another – it doesn’t stop. One question triggers ten more; it’s like having a 2 year old child in my head constantly asking: But why?”

I knew deep down that the cause of my increased anxiety was exhaustion and my hormones, but sadly this didn’t help. I unsuccessfully fought my overactive mind for days, before I was forced to admit I needed help. 

I reached out and asked for help (sort of) 

So I turned to my Twitter friends. I posted a succession of tweets about anxiety, humorous at first because I didn’t want to come across as a moaner or attention seeker (another misconception my anxiety drives me to believe). These tweets were honest, and left me feeling vulnerable. I fought the urge to delete them straight away, but almost immediately I started receiving messages of support, and also comments from fellow anxiety sufferers who could relate to everything I had posted. 

My Twitter friends rallied around me, not only offering support and making me feel less alone, but also adding humour to the mix which put a big smile on my face. Humour is a coping mechanism we often use (not always successfully) and this time it worked well. 

I was actually surprised at the response I received (I have no idea why). To be honest it was only a half-arsed attempt at asking for help, but my fellow anxiety warriors could see the signs I was struggling. They read between the lines of my humorous tweets, and saw I needed encouragement. Humans are amazing! 

I often say that Twitter brings out the best and worst in people. I have to deal with my fair share of trolls, but this week the Twitter community proved that social media can be a lifeline to those of us living with chronic illness or mental ill-health. 

Concentrating my attention on the tweets rather than fighting against my anxious, out of control mind, was such a welcomed relief. Distraction is sometimes the best medicine. I was still exhausted, and I desperately needed to rest, but sometimes you have to put your mental health ahead of your physical health. 

To all my Facebook friends who are asking: Why didn’t she reach out to us? Somehow it seemed more anonymous, and less scary tweeting about it rather than posting it on Facebook. I know you would all have been tremendously supportive of me – I just didn’t have the emotional strength at the time. 

To allow yourself to be vulnerable, is the bravest thing you can do

Deciding how much I should share on my blog is a constant balancing act for me. I want to be honest about all aspects of my health, but I don’t want to come across as a whinger, or an attention seeker. And as most of you have your own personal battles, I don’t want to add to your emotional load. 

But I guess the biggest reason I don’t want to talk about my struggles, while I’m in the middle of the battle, is because it makes me feel so vulnerable. I don’t want to admit I’m not coping. I don’t want to admit I need emotional support. I don’t want to admit that I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing. I don’t want to admit that I don’t have the ‘control’ I so desperately crave. I don’t  want to admit I haven’t got my shit together – not even close. I don’t want to admit my failings and ask for help. 

So this post is a reminder to myself, and anyone else that needs to hear it: 

  • Asking for help is an expression of strength and wisdom, rather than weakness
  • To admit you are not coping takes immense courage
  • To be open about your struggles, and to allow yourself to be vulnerable, is the bravest thing you can do

Breaking the stigma 

The only way we can break the stigma surrounding mental illness, is to talk about it – shout it from the rooftops. Being open about how I have felt this week, and being brutally honest about how much I was struggling, has brought me closer to my Twitter friends. It’s allowed me to make more emotional connections, and most importantly it helped me survive the anxiety hell that was consuming me. 

Many of us are all too familiar with the emotion of depression, and the fear of anxiety. But unfortunately, too often people are unwilling to discuss this for fear of further rejection or judgement. As far as we have come with the advancements in mental health, stigma still exists when it comes to issues like depression and anxiety.

When you feel like you are not coping, and find yourself overwhelmed by everything, it’s important to ask for help – it could be vital for your wellbeing and safety. If you would like some tips on how to survive bad mental health days please read this post. Please don’t be afraid to reach out. I promise it’s not as scary as it first seems. Take care x 

Do you find it hard to ask for help? 

For more personal stories, reviews, news, inspirational quotes and in-depth discussion, please head over to my Facebook page.

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3 Comments

  1. I know exactly what you mean! For me the problem arises from a different angle: my husband and mother-in-law both suffer with severe anxiety and depression, and my husband has OCD thrown into the mix (but he refuses the visit a doctor about it – he thinks he might lose his job). So I am left trying to help both of them through their crises, my MIL is full-time carer to her husband, and I have our young children to care for. It is a huge weight of responsibility when I feel like the only sane and healthy adult in the room. Luckily I have a fantastic network of friends locally who will pick me up, take me out, give me a hug and listen while I vent my frustrations. Without them I think I would have lost the plot a long time ago… Sometimes all you need is a sympathetic ear and someone to hold space for you without trying to fix anything.

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