I have only recently changed my perspective on this and now I’ll be an ambassador.
I read this quote and it was meant to encourage me to reach out when I'm in a dark place. The quote says, “Asking for help is an act of service. Don’t deny the people who love you the honor of being there to support you.”
To be blunt—I think it’s backwards.
When someone is in deep depression or carrying grief that feels unbearable, they’re not sitting around thinking, “Let me serve my friends by asking for help.” They’re thinking, “Let me find the courage to get out of bed… let me remember to feed the kids… let me find the strength to put the breakfast food away before dinner time… let me survive walking into a party where everyone’s joy makes my sadness spiral.”
Most of us, especially guys, don’t ask for help. We say we’re fine, even when we’re drowning. At our lowest, we don’t have the mental clarity or strength to reach out. The burden is already crushing enough just to survive the day.
That’s why shifting the responsibility onto the hurting person feels like a cop-out. It lets the clear-minded friend off the hook from the harder, braver work of being proactive. Because if I am one of “the people who love them,” it’s on me to show up. To risk being intrusive, awkward, or even offensive. To bring my presence, my vulnerability, my words. That’s what can save a life.
I once told a brother that when I was in my darkest place, I felt like I’d fallen into deep water with sharks circling. People stood on the bank with lifeboats, ropes, life preservers—everything I needed. They looked on, talked about how dangerous it must be, hoped I would survive, some even prayed for me. But they didn’t jump in, because in their minds, “If he wanted help, he’d ask.” The reality is, when you’re choking on salt water and fighting off sharks, you don’t have the breath to yell or a free hand to wave. Everything you’ve got goes into surviving the next wave.
That’s why I can’t agree with this quote. Asking for help isn’t an act of service—it’s often not even possible. The real act of service belongs to the friend who decides to step in uninvited, who risks everything for the chance of maybe saving a life.
All this being said, I realize the burden being on the clear-minded friend is situational to an extent. Sometimes you simply won’t know the depth of someone’s struggle unless they tell you. I spoke to someone recently whose close friend confessed they had been in such a dark place that they considered suicide in the past year. This person said they had no idea, they thought their friend was happy, cheerful, and doing fine in life. That’s a sobering reminder.
Being a close, good friend means we can’t settle for surface-level friendship. It means actively looking for ways to truly be there, paying attention to what might be concerning, and being willing to proactively ask hard questions. Don’t just assume because someone looks okay that they are okay. Don’t be a surface friend.
No comments:
Post a Comment