There's no shame asking for help

There is always shame for not asking for help

Getting help is meant to fix solutions

Not cause more problems

I know that there are times that I can be quite prideful

Sometimes I'm too embarrassed to ask

But unless I ask, I still be stuck in a messy situation

So seek help in any way possible

I fight myself everyday

to tell myself it's not weak

because I can't do this alone

When the opponent is yourself,

it's a pretty even match without reinforcements.

and you can only fight yourself for so long before it kills you

I had let it go on long enough

My anxiety leading to body dysmorphia leading to anorexia.

My mental fight had turned to a physical one.

So I asked for help.

And I'm still crumbling.

But maybe a little less.

"Mommy, why are you crying?"

Kara wiped her eyes and gave her four-year-old son a half smile. "Mommy's just tired, sweetie."

Her son Jason put his hands on his hips and gave her a very serious look. "Mommy, do you need a nap? It's ok to be tired and take a nap."

Kara was caught between a sob and a laugh. If only her problems could be solved with a nap! But seeing her son parrot her oft repeated words back to her made her smile.

"Oh Jason, it's not that kind of tired. I have a lot of things to think about and sometimes I just don't know what to do."

"If you're bored you could read a book. Or play blocks."

That's not what Kara meant, but she nodded at Jason. "Those are some great ideas. Good thinking! Speaking of blocks... how is the living room? Did you pick up your toys like I asked?"

Jason twisted his hands together and didn't meet his mother's eyes. "Yes... I mean no. I mean yes. Kind of. Mostly?"

"Well, which is it? We'd better go take a look," Kara said, leading Jason by the hand.

She could see that some of the toys had been put away in the corner, but there were still blocks all over the floor and books sitting in a heap near the bookshelf.

"Books and blocks, huh?" Her boy was clever. "Why aren't these blocks put away?"

"I can't do it. There's too many!"

"Sure you can do it. Just start with one block at a time. Start with that red one. Ok now that green one. Good job! Just keep picking up one after another."

Jason got about halfway through before he flopped on the floor and said, "I'm tired!"

"As soon as we finish picking up you can go down for a nap."

"And you too?"

"Maybe," Kara answered. "We'll see." She helped her son finish putting away the blocks and then directed him toward the bookshelf. It was a mess. The books were stuffed in every which way but some were falling out and some were piled on the floor.

Kara was about to ask Jason about the books when he announced, "they won't fit!" He proceeded to demonstrate by trying to stuff a Uhlenstain Ursines book into the shelf at a 45 degree angle. It butted up against the books already on the shelf. He looked up at Kara with deep chocolate eyes and said, "Mommy, will you help me?"

Kara couldn't help another smile and the warm feeling that filled her. Oh, she'd be happy not to shelve another book in her life. But she was pleased that he asked her for help instead of whining or giving up and lying on the floor again. "Ok Jason. Let's do it together."

Kara straightened the books on the middle shelf and held them upright while Jason put books away in the new found space.

When they were finished, Kara gave her son a high-five. "Good teamwork!"

"Good teamwork!" Jason repeated back. "Better together!"

"Better together, huh? Where'd you hear that one?"

"Ms. Christopher at school says it. When we help each other she is happy and says 'better together!'"

"Sounds good to me!"

As Kara was ticking Jason into bed for his nap, he said, "Wait a minute Mommy, I need to tuck you in!"

"Me?"

"Yeah it's your nap time."

"But if you tuck me in, how am I going to tuck you in?"

Jason brow furrowed in concern.

"I'll tell you what," Kara said, "Scoot over and I'll snuggle here with you and tuck us both in. Sound good?" Jason nodded and moved over. Tucked into his mother's arms, he soon fell asleep.

Kara listened to his even breathing and sighed, letting out a little bit of her stress and soaking in a little bit of peace. She marveled, as she often did, how much her little boy internalized from his surroundings. She smiled at him telling her to take a nap and giving her ideas of things to do when she was bored- repeating back to her the same things she often told him. He was soaking up information at pre-K too...

With a start, Kara opened her eyes. She must have fallen asleep. She carefully extricated herself from the bed and headed to the kitchen. She had too much to do. And too much to worry about. And too many things that she had no idea how to handle.

As she passed through the living room she saw the neat bookshelf. Better together her son had said. In the kitchen she sat down at the table and checked the phone lying there. No missed calls. She tried to will herself to take action, to do something, but she felt so overwhelmed that she crossed her arms on the table and put her head down.

Ten seconds later she lifted her head again and looked at the phone. Better together. Swiftly, without giving herself time to change her mind, she grabbed the phone and called her best friend.

"Hi, Tina? It's Kara... Yeah it has been awhile. How am I? Oh fine, fine. The usual. Yourself? That's good to hear." There was a brief pause as both considered what to say after the initial pleasantries had been exchange. Kara broke the silence first.

"Actually Tina... things aren't that great. It's been really hard..."

An hour later, Kara and Tina said their goodbyes. After hanging up, Kara hugged herself. None of her problems were solved by the phone call, but she did feel less alone. Tina even confided that she was having some struggles of her own. They promised to talk again soon.

Kara got up from the table when she heard Jason call her name sleepily. As she walked to his bedroom, her steps felt just a little bit lighter. Better together. She and Tina didn't have all of life's answers, but they'd help each other through it.

opening up about your problems,

asking for their help,

anticipating for them 

to aid you to splinter this dreary silence,

hoping for them to fathom,

waiting to hear their car pull in,

expecting the doorbell to ring,

while gaping at the same old furniture,

till white blurs into black,

from the gloom of death.