I need help.

I have been encouraged by many friends, and sternly instructed by those who know me best, to ask for help when I need it. It is very difficult for me to admit to myself that I need help in the first place, and even more difficult to admit it to others. Accepting offers of help still causes me some discomfort but openly asking for help, especially when it is truly needed and not just something that might be nice, is close to impossible for me.

The truth is, I am in the most difficult situation I have ever been in. During my entire life, I have never needed support and help more than I do right now. This injury is the worst I have ever had, in terms of incapacitation - though thankfully the prognosis is good, and the incapacitation will ultimately be temporary. This situation would be difficult and painful for anyone, but those who know me will understand that my weaknesses being what they are, I am perhaps more vulnerable to this hardship than some.

I am not patient. I live in the moment, my world is what it is now. Knowing what tomorrow or next year will be has very little resonance for me. I bitterly resent anything that undermines my self-sufficience. Incapacitation is a personal nightmare. I once had a cast on my left wrist which immobilized my thumb completely, and 10 days later tried to tear it off in the single time I have ever experienced what can only be described as a fit of rage. I have great difficulty, as I mentioned, asking for help.

I know some people would be thrilled, minus the pain and back brace, to spend a summer free of obligations reclining and watching tv. I have always been utterly baffled by these people. I am not an "indoor" girl. I dislike days which pass without some type of strenuous activity, and when 3 or more of those days stack up in a row, I start to have trouble sleeping and my mood is seriously affected.

I am a climber. I have obligations to school and to my job, to my family and friends. I need to sleep and to eat. When I'm not doing those things, I am climbing. When weather and health allows, I climb. This is something you either understand or not, so I won't elaborate further. Being unable to climb for 3 months, or 6 months, is a serious emotional hardship for me. This goes far beyond that, to being unable to shower without assistance, to drive, to reach anything below my waist or above my head, to look over my shoulder, to sit up, to sleep through the night, to pick up a gallon of milk.

I'm not making (or asking for) value judgments on any of this. I'm not saying that any of these things are good or bad, unique or common, things to be proud of or ashamed of. I know that there are many, many people in situations far worse or far better than mine and I'm not making comparisons. These are just traits I bring to the table and the situation that I am in, and I'm just laying it out there. Read about it or don't, care or not, it's perfectly alright.

If you're still reading, here's some things that I need and that maybe you can help with, if you would like to help. I apologize for the long melodramatic introduction, I suppose that venting is one of the things I needed.

1. Above all, company. Distraction. Conversation. If you are in Boulder, think of me when you are doing something fun (that I'd be capable of doing - if you're not sure, never hurts to ask). When you go to the grocery store. Watch a movie. Make dinner. Short walks around the neighborhood with some good conversation are wonderful. Driving me somewhere else to walk is great too. This is very uncomfortable to ask because it feels like I am inviting myself places, especially when I may not be the most exciting company I have ever been - but the point is, always assume I'm not busy and would love even short visits or mundane errands.

2. If you are not in Boulder, and have always wanted an excuse to visit, you've got one! More realistically, any communication is good. Emails, real mail, phone calls, text messages, facebook notes, it's all good. Sometimes I am in too much pain or too tired or too drugged to answer the phone, or write back right away. I promise you I will still enjoy the voicemail. Every little bit helps, and reminds me that I am not as alone as I feel and lots of people care.

3. Driving. I am on less painkillers with each passing day, and I am hopeful that I will be able to drive soon. It is still too difficult to turn my head and look around for me to be comfortable behind the wheel. I depend on others to get me to the grocery store, pharmacy, and Drs. appointments. I wouldn't say no to trips to other places too.

4. Patience and understanding. I know that I am not my usual cheerful, optimistic, joyful self. I know that about 80% of my end of conversations usually turns into venting, and about 5% uncomfortable tears. I am excruciatingly aware of this and feel really, really bad about it. If it bothers you, avoid talking to me. I don't blame you at all. If it doesn't bother you, reassure me of this. Be patient, trust that I will be myself again someday soon. Maybe reassure me that I will be myself again someday soon.

5. Entertainment! Movie suggestions (I have netflix). TV show suggestions. Addictive online game suggestions. Brilliant creative ideas you have for things you can do in a lawn chair. Ideas for projects. If you are more of an indoor person, what do you do with your time? I'm seriously intensely curious.

6. Encouragement. The thing that I fear most right now is losing myself, who I'm really very fond of, in a rising tide of bitterness and frustration. Tell me that it will be ok, that I'm still an awesome person even in a lawn chair, that I am strong enough to get through this with my personality intact. I consider myself to be a strong person, but this is hitting me in all my weakest parts while depriving me of many of my usual coping mechanisms. This should go without saying, but if you believe that I "had this coming" or "brought it on myself" or would be stupid to ever climb again, then we should probably not talk for 3-6 months because I'm simply not in a position to stand up to that kind of thing right now.


It is probably strange to write so openly about my weaknesses and needs and then post it willingly on the internet. I have always been very open, at least with my friends, and trust that most will be understanding and supportive. Oddly, it's easier to do it this way than to call anyone individually and say flat out "I need your help today." So really, it's pretty much a cop-out. I'm ok with that. Baby steps.