The Benefits of Swallowing One’s Pride and Asking for Help

I’ve been working so hard to try and come up with ways to earn some money – ‘side hustles’ if you will. I am still working on my notebooks, tee shirts, etc… but none of those have taken off as of yet. I’m lucky if I sell 1 notebook per month. I make about $2.00 or less on each sale. Granted, that’s $2.00 I didn’t have before, and I am very grateful, but it isn’t going to help me keep the electricity on through the colder winter months. I need to find more realistic and sustainable solutions. I cannot keep begging online for handouts. That isn’t me. I HATE it. I want to earn my own money, not constantly have to beg and borrow from friends. That certainly isn’t fair to them, and… it isn’t fair to my mental health situation either – forget pride, I swallowed that a LONG time ago… BUT… sometimes being forced to swallow our pride is a good thing.

I have had some beautiful things happen to me as a result of ‘baring my soul’ online to the world. I’ve had a local friend really step up, step in, and become a real savior to me – someone who has become a best friend, a confidant, an adviser, a cheerleader, a transportation supervisor/driver – and so much more. I would not have been able to go to the physical therapy sessions that are helping me to walk again if it weren’t for my friend Ford. The same goes for many of the medical appointments with specialists I’ve been able to see over the past year or so. Ford started seeing some of my posts a few years ago on Facebook, and he reached out to me. We had known each other a little through shared theatre projects many years back in the Chattanooga area and had been friends on Facebook for about a decade. At first, I was very reluctant – I couldn’t believe anyone would really want to help me. I mean, I had gone for so long thinking the world had pretty much just flushed me down the loo and washed their hands of me. I felt that I didn’t have much worth. I still struggle with feelings of that nature. (Repeatedly being largely ignored, refused, and ghosted by people will do a number on one’s psyche after so long…)

But Ford persisted, and… I let him in. I’m so glad that I did. He was a huge support to both me and my late father during the last year of Dad’s life. Dad simply adored that man. And the feeling was mutual. Ford loved my Dad so much. The two of them could talk about pretty much anything and everything. Dad really enjoyed his company and often said how lucky we were to have him in our lives. Fordie was with me when Dad passed – he was holding one of his hands while I held the other as my beloved father and lifelong best friend took his final breaths. Since then, Ford has been my absolute rock. He’s gone to the hospital with me on the many occasions I’ve needed to go. He has come over in the middle of the night to just sit with me when I had MASSIVE panic attacks. He’s come over (sometimes with his amazing hubs, Rodney) and had little “game nights” with me. He has quite an extensive library of board games, and it’s always so much fun to play a “new to me” game. (I have a handful of games, myself, but I never got super into collecting games because I didn’t have anyone to play them with.) Not many folks would have done what Ford has done for me these last few years. He’s a true angel and one for whom I am very grateful. The point I am trying to make with all of this (although it really just sounds like a “Ford is great!” essay… which he IS, but that’s beside the point…😂) is that if I had NOT been crying on the internet’s shoulder and wailing out into the ether, so to speak, Ford would never have known about my situation. As a result, he would not have had the opportunity to help.

I might add that Ford is not the only person who has stepped up to help, he’s just one who is here, and local to me, who has really gone above and beyond. I have had another couple of friends locally who have given me rides to and from medical appointments and hospitals a few times, but their demanding schedules have prevented them from doing much more, and I completely understand that! Other friends, and indeed, even internet strangers, have pitched in to help by sending me gift cards, Amazon wishlist items, donations, and more. Another very dear friend who lives quite far away (the majority of my friends do not live anywhere near me) has helped me in even MORE ways – some pretty massive ones at that, both financially as well as from an emotional support standpoint. One example is that I am able to see better as a result of this friend, who so generously paid for me to get new eyeglasses very recently. (Sjogren’s and the severe dry eyes that it causes has really done a number on them.)

I also have a little posse of far-away friends who ALWAYS share my silly little links – whether it be the ones where I am trying to sell my tee shirts, or my notebooks on Amazon… or the ones to my wishlists… etc… people who may not be in a position to always help financially, but who are so kind to share my links with their networks every time, without fail – that is really so special to me. It’s special because I KNOW what it is like to see friends struggle but also feel helpless as to how I might be able to make their situation better. Those link shares are every bit as important to me as financial donations, etc… and I know that each and every one of the people who are sharing those links is doing so from the heart. As a result of the link sharing, SO MANY kind people have jumped in and bought things for me off my “ongoing needs” wishlist. Anything from toilet paper to mouthwash to mobility aids, to accessibility ramps for my home, to physical therapy items, to grocery items I can’t afford on food stamps, and MORE… I have a stack of the little gift slips that come with the wishlist items, and I keep them in an envelope and look through them all the time to remind myself of the generosity of these people – and to feel the love when I REALLY need to feel it. I also think of them each time I use one of the items they sent me. As if that weren’t enough, I have internet friends (via the Twitter Good Omens and Doctor Who fandoms that I am a part of) who started their own tee shirt shop around the time my Dad took a turn for the worse and passed away, and they uploaded their own artwork to it, donating the proceeds to me. It was such a lovely thing to do for someone they didn’t even know! It never made a lot of money, but the amount of heartwarming it did for me is positively priceless, and I will always be forever grateful for their generosity and love. Sometimes, it’s not about money. It’s about feeling unforgotten and being made to feel like you matter.

About 3 years ago, I even had an anonymous person (*I* know who it is, but will never share because they donated anonymously) jump in on a GoFundMe I had, and basically pay off all of the hospital/medical bills I’d accumulated at the time. It was a sizeable donation, too! From a person who didn’t even know me. Dad and I were really struggling and I was trying my best not to let my credit get so messed up. Sadly, I’ve since had to give up on THAT particular struggle, because our medical system here seems to be rigged to set people up for financial doom and failure. It wasn’t long after paying off those medical bills that even more emerged. It wasn’t possible to keep up. I’ve had to make my peace with that because I am just a tiny little blip on… really NO ONE’S radar right now. My voice is pretty much unheard. It is what it is, and for the time being, I just kind of have to accept it. But, I am not doing so lying down… (at least, not anymore).

I will continue to try and find ways to pull myself out of the massive hole I seem to have been relegated to for the past several years. I will keep trying new things and looking for ways that I can earn money for myself. I WANT to be independent, and I NEED to feel like I am not a drain on society. Right now, though… at this very moment in time… I am thankful for the help I have received, and I’m REALLY glad that I swallowed my pride and shared my struggles online. If I hadn’t, there’s no telling where I would be right now. I shudder to even think about it…