A burden shared

Last night my little 89 year old grandmother pushed her walker up to me, leaned in and said, "You don't have to shoulder this alone. You need help, you just ask for it. Don't worry about money. Stop trying to carry it all by yourself." Except it's cuter when she says it with a British accent.

And she's right. I don't have to carry the load of unemployment and depression all on my own. But I'm really bad at reaching out for help. I've never really done it before. I'm just bad at asking because I believe I can, and should be able to, take care of myself. I'm an adult, right? Adults solve their own problems? Apparently it still takes a village to support an adult.

But I did ask for help. I moved in with my dad. I asked my mom to take the dog and car. I asked my dad to help pay for meds. I didn't hesitate to reach out on any of those fronts. But the depression is just crippling. How do you accept help when you're so low that you don't even know what would help you?

It's funny: my dad leans on his sister and his mom for support. Know how I can tell? Cause the two of them have been trying to help and talking to me about how it's all going to work out all week. Ever since I told my dad I wasn't doing so hot, suddenly his family is all over me. And my aunt just came into town last night. She brought me a good luck charm, too. It's nice to know you have family who care.