The value of the help I get and give cannot be measured even with the big ruler. I would never, ever ever have gotten to feel the cradle of a helping hand- whether it be a pen pal, or a friend, or a group, or my own backbone without first asking for help.
8th Good Reason to be Sober
Helping hands
When I was drinking I could never ever ever ask for help. Ever. I just drank and remained helpless. Helpless.
When I quit drinking the one big big biggest thing that made me not jump in the car and buy ninety four bottles of wine to chug while I made dinner was this: I wrote an email to a woman I'd never ever met or heard of and said, "Hey, I'm trying to quit. I'm scared." And then Belle wrote me back and said, "I'd be glad to be your pen pal." And she help save me.
Because I asked.
As I got more sober time I learned something: I could ask myself for help. And then I would show up. Every time. Reliably. I became my own help. I help save myself.
Because I ask.
Then I prayed to the universe for a face-to-face friend and Universe Amy showed up. I call her when I need to say "Gah, life is a plane crash today and my heart is breaking into pieces." and she reminds me that I'm OK. Makes me laugh. Values me. She is help.
Because I ask.
And then I joined a women's recovery group. I cry and laugh it out loud over and over: "Help me. Help me. Help me." All these hearts and hands reach out and save me.
Because I ask.
Some say you gotta sin to get saved. But I think you have to ask to get helped, and when you get helped you get saved more that you ever imagined could be real for your one living life.
You reach out your scared hand and heart and say "Help me. Heal me. Save ME. SAVE ME. HELP ME."
Just ask.
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