Asking For Help is Hard

Tomorrow is finally my doctor appointment. Of course, now my anxiety is up because I have to explain why, once again, I chose to suffer for weeks instead of contacting my doctor for some help.

I just don't know how to ask for help. It took me into my 30s before I got professional help from my mental illness even though I knew I was suffering from depression back when I was like twelve (probably earlier than that even). Then every time something happens--like a downward turn--I just suck it up until the next appointment. Meds don't seem to be working anymore? Suck it up. Feeling so anxious, I'm sick to my stomach every day? Suck it up. Suddenly manic and doing crazy things? Suck it up. Suicidal? Suck it up.

And every time I get a lecture about being proactive and stuff, but I just don't know how to ask for help. Probably because in my experience, asking for help does nothing. I'm usually ignored. Either that or the other person starts complaining, and then, it's not worth the trouble. I don't want to put anyone out, so I've learned to just do everything on my own.

Like tonight I was struggling to cook dinner for everyone. I've gained so much weight that my body can't support it for long periods of time on my feet. My legs and feet were cramping up. I was in a lot of pain. My back and knees ached. And I kept messing up the recipe because I couldn't focus. But not once did I think to ask for help because my family in the room with me (husband watching TV, daughter playing on the computer, son playing with his nephew) would either not even hear me despite being feet away or would whine and moan the entire time until I just did it myself.

My husband did end up running to the store for milk, but I didn't ask him to do that. I just said we didn't have enough milk to make the pasta I wanted to make so he decided to go on his own. If I had asked he probably would have said no or made a big deal about how I should have been prepared (the family motto--"always be prepared") and gone to the store earlier. Never mind, he said he would pick that stuff up on his way home from work so I didn't know I wouldn't have milk. Sigh.

Anyway, asking for help is not an easy task when everyone is resistant to help. It's just easier to suffer and do things on my own as best I can than be at other people's mercy. And of course, when I do get help, the moaning and whining just make me feel bad because I'm making them miserable for having to help me. If that makes sense. I'm too sensitive to everyone's feelings so when they're upset, I'm upset.

I just need to get through tonight and not forget about the appointment tomorrow. Then I can get my dosage increased and my prescriptions filled. My husband might even be able to pick them up on his way home. Or he could take me to Target to get them on Friday (and maybe I can get that pen set I wanted--I have a minor obsession with Pilot G-2 pens and Target has a new set with colors I don't have yet). Probably not, though, since he said no to the pens once already (because I already have pens so why would I need more? He doesn't get it).

Then maybe in a few days I'll start to feel better. At the least, hopefully, I'll have a new bottle of anxiety pills that I can take twice a day every day and not ration them for when I need them most. When I did the pre-appointment paperwork, I had to check off "almost every day" side for each question about anxiety and most of the ones for depression were bad as well. Ugh.

I just want this to go away. I was feeling so much better a couple months ago and then this. I really don't think my life is ever going to get better than where it is now. I'm never going to experience happiness or what it feels like to just not be depressed 24/7. What even is that? You mean there are people that aren't depressed? I don't know what that means. I don't understand happiness or how to enjoy things. I don't do that. I don't get happy for more than a few minutes at a time. And I rarely enjoy anything. Now I'm even more depressed thinking about it.