• Fiona Martha

The Power of Asking for Help

Dear readers,

I am aware it has been a while since I last posted anything. Truth be told, things haven't been easy going for me recently. Things have happened that I never thought would and mentally it's left me all in quite a vulnerable place.

After one of these events, I was frightened, and didn't feel I could talk to anybody about it. The situation had been crafted so that I thought if I opened up to someone about what had happened, it could somehow turn on me. Dysfunctional thoughts began to rule me again, and I felt locked in to my own mind, afraid to take any steps.

I solved the situation eventually, but despite that, I felt incredibly drained with all that had happened. I decided, finally, that I could talk to my closest friends about it all. And I was met with incredible warmth, understanding and support. Of course, my friends would support me, but the fear that had ruled me had convinced me that they might not. Knowing they did made me want to cry.

I decided to talk to my therapist about it, and once again found myself being met with understanding, concern, and help. It was such a relief, because I felt as though I had taken control of the situation, and its consequences, even just a little bit. Slowly but surely, I have been able to talk to, and trust, more people. And the rewards of overcoming that fear are wonderful. It makes me angry to think that I allowed myself to be manipulated into silence.

Despite the wonders talking works, I haven't been myself lately. I feel like the world is constantly tilting on an axis, and it's all I can do to keep crawling. My mental state started reminding me of when I was at my worst, approximately two years ago. I got scared, because I can't be in that state of mind again. So I decided, again, to talk about it. To talk to my friends, my parents, and when I see them tomorrow, my therapist. And even though each word feels like I have to choke it out, I am minisculely lighter every time I do. And if you add all of those miniscule parts, it ends up being a weight I can bear much more easily than before.

I'm still working through things, and kind of stumbling a bit, but the most important job is done: I've acknowledged that I need help, and that I'm not okay. And the most difficult part?I've admitted it to other people, so they can help me. And I know that because I have great people around me, I'm going to get through it. Probably not in a straight line, and probably not always forwards, but through some kind of labyrinth, I will make it out again one day.

I hope that I can throw myself into writing here a bit more often. I'll do my best. And to all my lovely friends, I'm so very glad to have you. And to any people struggling: ask for help. Talk to someone. The stigma is not as bad as you think it will be. I promise.

- F

(Picture credits to @thisthingtheycallrecovery on Instagram)

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