It was the day after the white supremacist congressional coup.
Haha, remember that?
I had spent many hours the night before scrolling.
Stuck in a habit.
A habit that often makes me feel overwhelmed, numb, low level depressed.
I felt particularly embarrassed because the day before I had posted a bunch of stuff stolen from my therapist about recognizing trauma responses, particularly routine, seemingly innocuous ones.
You know, like scrolling without end, immobilized.
So, that morning, still stuck in the same scrolling pattern I had been the day before, I was frustrated with myself.
I finally got myself to put down my phone for a second to go make breakfast, a piece of toast.
Then I realized…
Well, this part is kind of sad.
I couldn’t open the freaking jam jar.
Ugh.
And suddenly, I was somehow back on my phone again, scrolling just like I had been doing before.
What the fuck?
I knew that if I was going to do anything for the rest of this weird day, even just “sit quietly and try to figure out what was going on with my activation pattern,”
I had to eat.
And to eat, I had to stop scrolling.
So even though “getting up, walking to the kitchen, and making toast without jam,” was the easiest thing in the world in THEORY-
In PRACTICE, I wasn’t doing it.
So, I did the only thing that didn’t require moving or changing anything about what I was already doing at all. The easiest possible move.
I hit “Tweet” and wrote “ guys, I can’t get this jar open. Does anyone have any suggestions on how to open a jar? “
Okay. Look. I get it.
In some ways, this is very dark.
In a different story, this question sent out to the masses could be a rock-bottom moment.
Showing how the need for social media validation was so necessary to function that I couldn’t complete a single task.
But, here’s the thing.
It made me stop scrolling.
And also, something else happened.
Something I kind of didn’t expect.
People have a lot of really interesting things to say about opening jars.
Who knew?
Someone shared an old trick they learned on a homesteading Reddit forum with pantyhose.
A lot of people had different perspectives on the old “hot water “trick, particularly because it didn’t work for me at first.
There was a whole discussion about how hot the water had to be in proportion to the age of the jar.
Since I didn’t have pantyhose, any of those jar lid opener things, or, The Claw, a heavy duty tool a friend from high school linked to, I tried many of DIY options without success.
Finally, someone mentioned that without panty hose, you could use the elastic from a pair of underwear.
I did have that.
It worked.
A relatively petty and kind of ridiculous success.
But a success nonetheless.
I shared the results with everyone on Twitter, and promptly logged off.
Listen.
Like…
No one saved society that day, not even in the way like in Very Special sitcom episodes where they’re like “ we made the difference in the life of one man… “
But I got to eat toast.
It was nice.
It was a break from the scrolling through Twitter that can often feel like reading through endless cries for help and depressing hot takes.
Here’s the thing: people wanted to help.
Even people who tend to post deep Internet jokes that go over my “old enough to not get Internet jokes” head suggested interesting ways to get this jar open.
There are a lot of Instagram embodiment wellness memes out there that say how important it is to ask for help.
How much you need to do it, when you feel alone, or stuck.
And honestly… even though asking for help is a thing that I struggle with, I don’t often find these memes particularly helpful.
Because in the past, I HAVE asked for help — and it sucked.
When I was really desperate, struggling, or trapped in a pattern of activation that was eating me alive. I asked for help and regretted it.
Because in those moments, no matter how good my intentions were, or the intentions of the people around me , the way I asked for help meant I left both of us feeling frustrated.
I didn’t ask for the thing this person could actually help me with.
Or I didn’t ask for what I really needed/wanted.
So I stayed desperate, and they were like “…What am I doing here again?”
The problem is: I’m bad at asking for help.
I waited to practice until I was desperate.
Which is never a good time to practice anything.
By asking for help, even as a joke when the stakes were low, I got to practice.
And I also got to see something pretty cool (especially for Twitter).
Something I know is true in theory but I don’t always get to see in practice.
It’s this:
PS — In a similar vein — a friend is starting work on the fair tax campaign in DC and wanted to talk to someone who worked on the fair tax in Illinois. Is this you? Does this conversation sound like it would give you energy? Let me know and I will set you up!
Not in a date way. Well, maybe in a date way, but in a work wife date way.
But with good boundaries, okay?
Bye.
Originally published at https://notesonfeednet.substack.com.
