A while ago, I wrote an article about self-help books. I made some not-so-nice remarks about the genre but it was all in good fun. Though it was a pitiful attempt at humor, I found myself asking: Why the stigma behind self-help books? Then I was thinking of all kinds of stigmas. The stigmas behind mental health and emotional stress. And I eventually asked myself, "Why are we so afraid to ask for help?" Thus, this article was born.
Disclaimer - I will use the word "we" at times when I really mean "I" because owning up to vulnerability is really, really hard.
I grew up in a household where I had to be independent. My childhood was not particularly difficult or traumatic, but I didn't have many opportunities to ask for help. My mother was always working to provide for the family, and we didn't spend too much time together. When we did, she always told me I needed to be able to take care of myself. To this day she proudly says, "If I die, my children will be able to take care of themselves."
I did everything I could possibly manage by myself. When I did need help, I stubbornly struggled through it. I could never ask for help or receive it. And I was proud of this, I felt like an accomplished human being. I thought I was independent but really, I was just afraid of being weak.
Sometimes, people make the mistake of assuming that this is something that pertains to a particular "race." There is a definite shame in talking about our problems in the black community but this is not a racial issue. This is a human issue.
Recently, I saw a video in which someone documented questions given to a few Republicans about welfare and unemployment. These people were white and male. Before I get eye-rolls from my non-conservative friends, these men were part of very poor rural communities. They are in dire need of help. On the subject of receiving benefits from the government, there was a resounding
"We don't take handouts."
"Our family has survived without help all this time."
Liberal folk like myself are quick to point out how silly this sounds. We're quick to say, "Help is great!" Yet in the same breath we can easily deny the need for a mental health day. According to the Anxiety and Depression Association of America, 40 million people age 18 and older suffer from anxiety disorders in the United States. That's 18% of the entire country's population. These are highly treatable but only a third of the affected receive treatment. We really need to start talking about this.
Even those of us who read self-help books are quick to call them personal development literature. We can't even admit that we're helping ourselves. How is this thinking different from that toxic phrase "Pull yourself up by the bootstraps"?
Why is it so hard to ask? Perhaps its goes back to a base need in our genetic coding. Asking for help disturbs a part of us that says only the strong survive. Any weakness could actually get you killed. Or maybe, these thoughts about weakness and strength are fed to us by our respective communities. Classic nature/nurture debate.
The truth is, our lives are incredibly singular. We're all flying solo. Most of our lives are spent inside our own minds. But while we're here, we can't make it alone. The lone individual that has the "me against the world" mentality is hurting themselves. Everything we do requires the help of someone else. Everything. Without others, we'd have to fend for ourselves. And I don't know about you but, I'd bring a whole new meaning to the word "helpless."
The point is, we need to think about it. Because we're stronger together and all that jazz.
