I Feel Like Giving Up

My friends joke I’m not the best about responding to texts. I’ve gotten worse lately. I’m sleep deprived, and on those days I feel less like interacting.

“I’m worried about you,” texts my sister. “You say everything is fine but I feel like you’re not telling me the truth.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I text back. “It’s not a great time but I’ll be fine.”

“I just want the Colleen I grew up with back,” she responds.

Her words pull at my heart.

A lot of things have been converging at once in my life. These past few months have been the most difficult since my divorce. But I’m even more frustrated.

My sister had just been getting the Colleen she grew up with back.

I was reappearing.

Now I feel like I’m disappearing.

My sister isn’t the only one checking in. My best guy friend calls soon afterward. It’s hard to hide things from him. He knows when I say things are fine, and they aren’t.

“I feel like giving up,” I say.

I’m surprised I’ve said these words out loud.

“Colleen,” says my friend. “I’ve known you nearly your whole life. I’ve never heard you say you’re giving up. It’s not who you are.”

“I know,” I say. “I’m tired.”

“I’m worried about you,” he says. “This doesn’t sound like you. I’m coming to visit you.”

It’s true.

For the first time, I feel like giving up. I want someone to walk into my life and tell me it’s going to be okay. I’ve got you. You can have a respite. You can regain your strength.

Don’t we all feel that way sometimes?

Maybe it’s okay to vocalize it.

Maybe it’s okay to say I want to give up.

It’s not the problems that get the best of me. It’s the cycle of barely getting ahead of one after another. The leftovers of divorce. A vicious cycle my ex-husband put into motion.

I didn’t anticipate the past few months.

Things had gotten better.

I’m not willing to travel backward.

It doesn’t take long for others to circle the wagon. My high school friends begin pinging me. I have a pretty happy personality so they realize something is up.

My phone rings.

“What can I do to help?” says my one high school bestie.

She lives a few miles down the road. In the past, we’ve typically approached problem-solving the same way. We both worked at the kennel/vet while we were growing up, and went on to get business degrees.

We can take the emotion out of problems.

She can be as pragmatic as I can.

But now I was emotional.

As I’m talking to her, I’m reminded of the beginning of my divorce. We’ve known each other for so many years. She’s like a sibling. She wanted to help me back then.

“You need to let people help you,” she said.

It was a sentiment my sisters had echoed.

I didn’t want help at that time.

I wanted to solve my own problems.

I had already surrendered to a certain degree of help. My neighbor had lent me her car while my husband withheld mine. People had brought food those first weeks when he withheld grocery money.

“You know what,” I say. “I do need your help. I’m not sleeping and I’m feeling down. I’ve got a bunch of things I have to get resolved financially and legally. Maybe you can come over and help me get through some of the paperwork.”

“I will help you,” she says.

It feels like a weight has been lifted.

I realize something.

I did feel like giving up…but it was another way of asking for something else…help. Sometimes it takes me too long to do so.

I’m tenacious.

I always used to say I never met a problem I couldn’t solve. It energized me. I liked the challenge. It’s probably why I gravitated towards marketing consulting. A failing business is a riddle to solve.

But sometimes we need another set of eyes. Sometimes we need another perspective. Sometimes we need others.

There’s nothing wrong with feeling like you want to give up…

OR asking for help.

It’s human.

But somehow we feel like there is.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.

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