It seems like addicts, as a group, struggle big time with asking for help. It’s like H.E.L.P. is a dirty four-letter word. It’s one of the main reasons that so many alcoholics and addicts have to circle the drain for so long before they finally admit they have a problem. ​

Leaning on others is simply counterintuitive.

It turns out that the universe decided to have me revisit my relationship with asking for help. I broke my foot last week and there is no getting around that I now am dependent on others to get some of my basic needs met. ​

It’s not easy. I can’t walk or drive and I’m pretty hopeless on crutches. I literally have no choice.

The minute I slipped and fell, I knew that something was wrong but I didn’t really want to know. That’s how addicts think. Years of denial help stave off pain of all sorts. It turns out – even in recovery, this knee-jerk response can kick in with lightning speed.

Minimization is another one of the top 10 strategies. I sat myself down on a big boulder and tried to catch my breath and figure out what I was going to do next. A kind lady walking her dog told me that she could give me a ride home – that it wouldn’t be a problem at all. ​ And yet here’s how I responded, “No it’s OK, I can walk.”

And I did. I walked six blocks home.

I didn’t know that my foot was broken at the time, but I did know that something was wrong.

I’ve come to realize over the past few days, that the aversion I have to dependency is a long-standing survival mechanism. It’s not that I don’t intellectually understand that we are all interdependent and that there are times to give and there are times to receive. Of course, I understand that. The fascinating process for me is to see just how entrenched this response is in my nervous system. I’ve worked for many years on my early childhood trauma and I’ve read a lot of literature about what it takes to be a healthy, functioning human being. ​ And yet, what is happening viscerally in my body, bypasses all that ‘knowing’.

My survival mechanisms scream out, reminding me that it’s dangerous to depend on others. As one of my mentors commented matter-of-factly, “Well when you were young you trusted others to take care of you and you were hurt”.

Just like that, the raw and simple truth. ​ ​

My nervous system, from day one, knew that if I was going to survive I had to rely on myself to do so. So for me to now surrender to this dependency on others, goes acutely against my early survival training. It’s probably why I’m so fascinated with the Navy SEALs. I watch everything I can on them. I couldn’t quite get the identification process until now. The skill it takes to survive a violent alcoholic family intact – when you are tiny and have very few resources at your disposal, is similar in ways. And just as I revere the SEALs, I see why it’s important that we also revere our own ability to survive horrendous circumstances.

So what to do about this? ​ Here it is and again, it’s simple.

I love to help others. I love to give in ways that I’m able to when I’m able to. It makes me feel good. I feel useful and value that I can share my love and my caring with people who matter to me. As long as I can recognize and manage my survival instinct to ‘do life alone,’ I instead can allow others to feel good about helping me.

Like the infinity symbol – the movement around and back-and-forth allows us all to know we are interconnected, interdependent, and never alone.

I can allow myself to receive the goodness and love that others give and feel good knowing, that they feel good too. I just have to connect my heart to theirs. Acts of kindness and caring are the only things that really matter in life. Who am I to deprive someone of an opportunity to feel good?​ ​ It’s a beautiful win-win. ​ Let me know what you think and whether you have this challenge too.

​ Respectfully,

Sue Diamond

Lisa