So everyone tells me I'm one of the strongest people they know.
Okay, so I'm strong, but where does that get me? I have no idea what all this strength does for me. Why do I bother? I could complain and whine and just be miserable, but I'd rather not, so I'm strong. I guess.
I don't always see myself as strong.
For example, my brother has spent the last week with me, cooking, cleaning, helping me with everything I wanted and needed to get done. Which has made me deliriously happy, and at the same time I am now really sad because I realize how much better I feel when I have someone around to help me all the time. Now I'm terrified that he is leaving. How will my laundry get done? What will I eat? And worst of all - I'll be doing everything, so I'll need more naps, so I'll have less time to get things done, so fewer things will get done and they will pile up until I can't stand it anymore and I finally break down and ask for help.
I don't like asking for help from people other than family members - and even with my immediate family I wait until I'm pretty desperate. Maybe I don't want anyone to think I'm weak in any way.
But really, I am. I'm weak.
France won the World Cup and all I got was a lesson in how to chill out - On Sunday I befriended a 20-year-old French kid named Etienne while sitting on the concrete railing of a walkway leading down to the Seine. We were gathere...
4 days ago