Giving and Receiving

There's an old adage that says “it's better to give than to receive.” Most often, it's used in reference to material things, in which case its purpose is to keep folks from being selfish. In another sense, though, it justifies people in trying to be their own personal heroes. In my case, I can concoct a heroic tragedy to compete with Sophocles.

For many of us, like me, it is far easier to give than to receive. In the midst of sickness and depression, asking for or getting help is one of the last things I want to do. Even friends conscious of my pride and trying in spite of it to care for me find it (and me) just about impossible. Today has been one of those days. I've been completely incapable of accepting any giving from anyone else; yet, at the same time, I curse the world for choosing to ignore me (or so I think). How does this paradox fit into one little mind?

Friends, forgive me for lacking the grace to accept your help and love. Though I refuse to acknowledge it some days, I desperately need it. I hope that someday I'm wise enough to recognize the need for balance in the giving and receiving category, but I'm not there yet. In the meantime, will you keep trying to love me, in spite of my pride? Will you continue to hug me, to pull me off the couch, and to make me dinner—even if I swear vehemently, in spite of all evidence to the contrary, that I'm capable of doing it all myself? I promise you that though I may not show it, I appreciate it deeply. At the end of the day, your attempts to care for me mean far more than my damnable pride.