Just Ask

img_2701Oh boy… I think that blogging regularly again should be a New Year’s resolution. What do you think? Also, taking more selfies with my adorable niece.

I’ve said it before, that I can tell when depression is creeping back into my life by what I’m creating…or, rather, what I’m not creating. And lookey here: nary a blog post or DSLR photo to speak of recently.

Stupid depression.

The good thing is, I can recognize it. I can name it. And I can do my best to kick it. HI-YA! While that sounds brave and awesome, what it really consists of is humbling myself to do what I’m really bad at: ask for help.

Here’s the thing: no one wants to be that person. The person that always has something hard and sad and…well, depressing to talk about (like depression). I certainly don’t. I don’t even really want to write about it. That’s probably why I haven’t been writing…

I’d like to walk around pretending there are cartoon birdies flitting about my shoulders while I cook a healthy dinner every night between time spent exercising and supervising my children at their quiet play time.

HA!

I couldn’t even finish that sentence without laughing. My life is so incredibly different than that ridiculous imagining, but you know what? That’s because it’s real. And real is ok.

And real means I ask for help. I call people. I ask Andy for a break. I ask forgiveness from my children for yelling at them.

Again.

Being real means I let myself cry in the shower without adding the guilty “Why’s?” Why can’t I handle this? Why am I sad? Why can’t I be a good parent/wife/friend/sister? Why is this so hard? Why…I cut the Whys off at the pass and just cry. Because that is ok.

I called my sister, Jess, a week ago. On a good day. Of course. Because it’s almost impossible to ask for help on bad days. But then on good days, I feel so competent and confident that my attempts to explain sound embarrassingly silly, “Hi Jess. I was, um wondering, if, um your offer to come out and stay with me for a couple days was, um still…um..good? Because I’ve been, um…”

“Yes.”

Her response came before I could even finish my ask.

And I nearly burst into tears.

This is what happens when I am humble. Swallowing my pride and asking for help gives the Loves in my life an opportunity to be merciful. They jump at the chance to love me, to help me, to be with me. As much as I don’t want to be that person who is always talking about depression, they don’t want me to be that person all alone.

“How about tomorrow? I could stay till Wednesday!” Gah! I’m crying just thinking about her loving response.

We didn’t do anything crazy. We were just together. She helped me parent. Watched some combination of my kids when I did all the school driving. Gave me advice on parenting my sixteen six year old. Stayed up way too late, discussing all the things and none of the things. (All while minding her own 5 month old, by the way!). She gently held my hand or my baby or my heart or my soul or some combination of those things and was just present. Present to me in a way I desperately needed. Present to me in a healing way.

All I had to do was ask.

I just changed this post from its original title, Recent Miscellany, because it turned into something completely different than a catch up about our latest adventures. This was apparently what needed to be written during my precious nap time writing hour. Miscellany will have to wait till next time…

I will, however, leave you with these adorable photos of Miss Anne and Baby G. Jess and I were conspiring about ways to make them best friends…cousins (who share a middle name and were born 3 months apart) is just not enough 😉fullsizerender-2fullsizerender-3

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One Response to Just Ask

  1. Jessie Wagnon says:

    Wow, Cait! Thank you for those kind words. I’ve been looking forward to your next post, and it was quite an honor to be a part of it. It was wonderful to be with you 🙂

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