On the one hand, I felt better today than I have since New Year’s Eve — yay! This despite the fact that I occasionally feel as if my sinuses are filled with mucilage. Which is a mental picture no one needed.
(Not sorry enough to take it out of the post, though. 😉 )
On the other hand, damned near every day this week it’s been too damned cold in the office. Since I seem to run about 10 degrees warmer than nearly everyone I know, when I need a sweater, everyone else is bundled up like they’re ready to hike through snow.
Okay, maybe they’re not wearing quite that many layers, but still, I’ve started to wonder if there’s something wrong with the heating system.
On the other other hand (wait, that’s three hands… “I’m four-dimensional, darling.” </Heinlein>), tomorrow is Friday, and payday, and while I don’t have anything officially on my agenda beyond spending much time with the washer and dryer, there is A Local Burner Thing Happening on Saturday evening that would be fun to attend, were it not for the 2.5-hour commute.
And so, on a post on a BRO-related page asking if anyone was attending the event, I commented that if anyone is going to be driving through/near my neck of the woods on the way to the event, I would happily buy said driver a beverage or two of their choice if they could give me a ride. No response yet, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
It’s still very hard for me to ask for help, of any kind. I don’t want to be a burden, or a bother, or put anyone to any trouble. Mostly because for most of my life I’ve believed I wasn’t worth the effort, or rather that even if I did ask no one else would consider me worth the effort, so why waste my time.
This is a nasty variant on my mom’s “you have to rely on yourself because you can’t rely on anyone else” routine — only in this iteration, it isn’t that you can’t rely on others because of some fault in them, it’s that you can’t rely on them because they don’t/won’t/couldn’t possibly actually care about you.
That is, about me.
And so asking for help rarely occurs to me, even though I know for a fact plenty of people care about me, and my friends in general will help me if I need help, if it’s within their power. I know it intellectually, of course. And most of the time, I know it in my deepest heart. But as one of my favorite fanfic authors put it in a story, “What the mind knows and what the heart believes aren’t always the same thing.”
There are days, more than I’d like, when my heart doesn’t believe what my mind knows to be true: that I am, in fact, worth it.
I’m grateful I remember it as often as I do. 🙂