I can’t ask for things. Objects, time, help. I was trained early to be ultra-independent, to rely on no one but myself. My father left before I turned two; my mother was left to raise four children, under the age of five, by herself. She couldn’t cope. It was the sixties so the medical community’s solution was happy pills. My father’s parents favourite grandchildren were not us and my mother’s parents held a grudge against my father, who I am named after.
Emotionally, no one ever gave me what I needed. So I learnt early not to ask. Instead I became the perfect child and made no demands. It is a hard habit to break.
Right now, I need bedroom blinds. My bedroom is too light, too early, now that it is Spring. My building manager has mentioned there are blinds available. I can’t get around to asking about them. Even simple questions like “what size are they”. Harder questions, like “how much would they cost” or “could the landlord put them up for me” are impossible to ask.
It would be easier to buy my own blinds and put them up myself. But the cost stops me, not knowing how to hang blinds stops me. But I’m tired of waking up too early and tired of being scared and indecisive. Tired of being independent.
I wish I knew how to do this. Intellectually, I do know how. You start small, you ask a small non-important question. You ask for a small favour. And you get what you want; what you need. Except I don’t think I will (ever) get what I want or what I need unless I do (get) it for myself.
And thus the self-fulfilling prophecy continues.