i hate asking for help. i don’t care who you are, whether you’re my parents, my best friends, my boyfriend, a total stranger- i hate asking for help. any kind of help. emotional help, financial help, help with folding laundry, help at work, etcetera. i don’t like to feel like a burden and genuinely anytime i ask for help that’s all i feel i am. a burden, an inconvenience, annoying. i feel like i should know how to do everything and then do it all myself. with that, however, comes a constant uncertainty that manifests itself into full-fledged anxiety and it follows me around for weeks. so i’m feeling myself slipping lately. i’m not on my game when it comes to getting my shit done without asking for help, and i know that’s a sign of my anxiety becoming too dominant. at every little inconvenience i’m finding it harder and harder to fight back that pit in my stomach. therein lies why i’m writing this post. i’m forcing myself to sit down and write because i haven’t in about a week. i know that when i become disinterested in things i know i’m passionate about deep down that it’s time to recenter and buckle down to get back on track. granted, there’s not actually a “track” that i run on. i’m not in school and i’m an adult, so i can pretty much do whatever i want, whenever (so long as money and work allow for it). the track i mean is my emotional track, i guess. my mental network of highways designated for different things. my emotional freeway is not the happiest of campers at the moment- specifically NW Anxiety Lane. it all has to do with one thing, too: money. that great green stuff that actually lets us live our daily lives and lets us eat and have a place to live and creates an actual living hell for those of us whose only concerns have to do with money. it controls me and literally, LITERALLY, there’s nothing i can do about it because i need money to live where i live and pay my bills and buy groceries. so i try not to think about it, and i push it down and down and down and down, but you can only push so far until you reach the bottom. i can feel myself inching on down and with that comes the realization that i’m also retreating further into myself. so here we are. i knew that if i didn’t write today i wouldn’t for another week, and then another week, and then another week, so on and so forth until my parents say something and i’ll feel bad that i’m not writing and then i’ll write something half-assed and not very good or real or anything, and then i wouldn’t write for another week and then another and basically the cycle would repeat itself (lol sorry, ADHD kicking in there). so again, i’m trying to get back on track. this is my year to finally become better in every way (including being better to myself!) and i’m gonna kick some ass doing it!