I was able to hang out with a friend, more like sister, that I haven’t seen in what seems like forever. In reality, it was a few months but to us, it felt like lifetimes. We used to see each other every day. She is my sorority sister and we were colleagues. She left the job that we shared because of mistreatment so we didn’t get to see each other every day. Well, we both knew how difficult the job is so we would take turns doing something every week for each other. It helped keep our sanity and our depression in check. Well, she quit and moved to Ann Arbor with her boyfriend and got a new job. Now, neither one of us got the mental break we needed. Today, she came over to the apartment that is provided by my employer. Her exact words were, “You live here? It seems like a jail.” My apartment isn’t necessarily empty. It’s just somewhat bare. I haven’t had the energy or motivation to put up decorations. I just don’t feel at home and it makes me want to run. Here is the where the epiphany starts…
Today, she called me and we met up at meijer to do some grocery shopping. We don’t live very far apart. I only bought some hot dogs, bread, and chips because that’s all I can really afford right now. I think she knew that. She paid for my food and that was really generous of her. I hate taking charity. It bothers me that she had to do that. After that, she said that she wanted to take me out for dinner. I told her she didn’t have to pay, especially since she just bought my groceries. We agreed. We brought her groceries back to my place so that they could stay cool and I drove us out to Red Robin. The waitress told me that my dinner was on the house. I just found out that my sister paid for me. I stopped to get gas at a station with the money I saved from groceries and dinner and before I could get out, her boyfriend and herself jumped out. One leaned against my door, pinning it shut, while the other pumped gas for me. They filled my tank. For those of you who like details and context, gas is 3.79 a gallon around here.
When they got back into the car, I looked at her, very frustrated and upset and I said something along the lines of, “Why would you do that! I feel awful now! You didn’t have to do any of that!” She looked me dead in the eye. She wasn’t mad or upset with me. She just laughed and said, “I work damn hard everyday. I know how hard it is. I wanted to help you because of the bullshit you go through. It’s my money and I’ll do what I want with it! Let me help you and let me pamper you!”
It later occurred to me, as you can all tell as I write this long ass post…Why don’t I let people help me? Every time someone tries to help me in any type of way, I resist. More often than not, I flat out refuse. I do not let people help me? I wondered if it was how I was raised but after thinking about my childhood, I realized that it wasn’t really because of that. I remember asking for help often…actually more than I really should have but I never was able to get help. Not from family, not from friends no one…I think that maybe I ended up internalizing that even if I asked, I was never going to get the help that I needed so I found ways to become more and more independent. The only question is why do I get so upset and emotionally unstable when people help me? I become suicidal and my self-worth plumets to zero in less than a second. That is my epiphany. The realization that I always refuse help from people no matter how close…It may not seem like much to others but to me, it’s a huge self discovery.