I don’t want to talk about it.
I’m so proud. I would have tried to make it on my own, even though the wind would have probably introduced my face to the sidewalk. Just two weeks ago I carried a 50lb air-conditioning unit across town by myself, even refusing help when a stranger stopped and offered it. My back hurt for a week afterwards, but I couldn’t allow myself to ask someone for assistance. When I do, I feel as though I shouldn’t. I think I must do everything on my own.
Is that really the healthiest society? One in which each person is capable of achieving only what they can achieve alone? Weren’t we meant to give and receive help? It may just be my personality, but I’m never happier than when I’m helping a friend. So why do I feel as though I’m a burden when I ask for help myself? What is this disease that makes us think we are islands, though we are surrounded by land?