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Lake Geneva Chiropractic

The trouble in asking, or texting, for help



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March 24, 2015 | 04:32 PM
Last week, my car died.

It was giving me some signsthat I ignored on the way to an assignment. I just acknowledged them, then forgot.

A flashing battery light? I don’t even know what that means. Trouble accelerating? My car just needs a nap.

If that doesn’t tell you how bad I am handling automotive issues, just find me at a gas station when my tank overflows and gas is gushing down the side of my car.

So, on Tuesday, I left my car to rest in a parking lot for an hour. Really, I didn’t even think about the trouble it was having driving out to Geneva Ridge Resort.

When I came back to my car, I thought that the trouble on the way out was a fluke and on the way back into town it wouldn’t be a problem.

So I tried to start it. It declined. I tried again. It refused. All I got were clicks and wheezing from the engine.

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Geneva Ridge is about four miles from home for me. Completely reasonable distance to walk when the weather is good.

My first thought was to walk home and call a service station in the morning for a jump start.

I didn’t want to bother anyone, my roommate or my coworkers. I thought to myself, they’re probably too busy for me.

But I was wearing flimsy, girl shoes and a skirt that wasn’t meant for evening weather in March in Wisconsin. So I finally bit the bullet and called a few people.

Actually, that’s not true. I texted my roommate first. Much less scary to ask for help via the keyboard.

Which made me think, why is it so hard to ask for help?

I would gladly leave my couch on a Tuesday evening to pick up one of my friends if stranded.

Yet it was so hard for me to text her, and then it was hard to follow that with a call to my boss.

I like to think that it’s because I’m so strongly independent. I’ve lived on my own for a while, and I like to make my own decisions.

Asking for help makes me look weak, makes me look dependent on others, a stereotype about women that I hate. (Even though my automotive skills are completely stereotypical.)

Just because I was dependent on someone for a ride, doesn’t mean I need someone all the time.

So maybe it’s a pride issue. Asking for help is very humbling, the opposite of pride.

When someone suggested that my inability to ask for help stemmed from pride, I nearly shouted no. Which probably proved his point.

I struggle with even realizing I’m too proud. It’s hard to admit to myself that I’m not a subject matter expert in all things, despite my best intentions.

That’s quite a revelation, but what’s my next step? Do they have meetings for people who are full of pride?

It’s probably the act of consistently humbling myself — asking for help when I need it — that will help. So next time I’m not sure of what to do, instead of just working it through on my own, I’ll call someone.

Or maybe just a text message.

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