It had been a really hard, really long day.
I was super emotional – everything just felt like too much. And I couldn’t even tell you why. Nothing had really happened. But I was at a point where I felt like I just couldn’t cope with life.
I was a few months sober.
Long enough to know how to get through a hard night without drinking.
But even though I had no intention of drinking, I still felt utterly and completely overwhelmed. Like I was drowning in emotions I couldn’t explain. It felt like I could barely breathe.
I had been doing the whole alcohol-free thing for long enough to know that the thing to do was reach out to someone that I could talk to. But I couldn’t do it.
I thought about it.
I didn’t want to just sit in whatever it was all by myself. But the thoughts that kept coming up stopped me from picking up the phone.
“I should be able to handle this – there’s not even anything actually wrong!”
“There’s nothing anyone can do or say that’s going to make whatever this feeling is stop anyway, so why bother?”
And the loudest one of all: “I don’t need to burden someone else with my problems.”
People are busy.
They have their own lives, their own emotions, their own problems. The last thing I wanted to do was bother someone with mine.
I hated feeling like a burden.
At the heart of it all was this belief: “My problems aren’t important enough to bother other people with them.”
So I sat there alone that night. I went for a walk and cried. I listened to music as loud as I could to try to drown out the sadness. I tried journaling but nothing really came out. I finally curled up in a ball on my bed and just sobbed. Eventually I fell asleep.
It’s been almost 5 years since that night, and I still remember it so vividly.
When I woke up, I told a friend – the person I leaned on the most in my early days of not drinking – how I’d felt the night before.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked.
“Because I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve got enough going on. You didn’t need my problems on top of your own.”
And it was in the ensuing conversation that I vowed to rewrite the way I see asking for help.
Imagine this:
Imagine a friend reaching out to you when they’re having a hard time.
“Hey. I’m really struggling right now. I’m just not okay. Do you have time to talk for a bit?”
How would you feel? I’m going to guess – if you’re anything like me – that you’d feel pretty dang honored to be the person they felt like they could trust.
The people you love will probably feel the same way.
When I started looking at it this way, I vowed to stop seeing myself as a burden. Because I’m not.
And neither are you.
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Podcast episode: Why Do I Feel Lonely? Here’s Why You Don’t Feel Like You Fit In
Julie Miller, RCP is a certified recovery coach and the founder of Create A Life So Full. After a decade of too much drinking, she found her way into an alcohol free life and is now thriving. Her recovery is founded in overcoming shame, finding her authentic self, and creating a life so full there’s no space left for alcohol. Through her coaching, podcasting, and the recovery community she has built, Julie has found her purpose in helping others find their way out of addiction and into a meaningful, purpose filled life of freedom.