You Just Can’t Help Some People

There’s no shortage of people that need help. Some of those people realize they could use a little assistance, and some of those people don’t believe they need any help at all. They’re fine just the way they are.

The first group tends to require aid of some sort for reasons that are obvious. Like their house is in flames, and so the fire department arriving would be nice. This group is aware that the flames hurt, and that smoke makes breathing challenging. These type of predicaments have a tendency to remove the last vestiges of the pride component that people possess. The component that discourages asking for, or accepting a helping hand. Everyone knows someone like this. Somerset Maugham wrote a short story about people like this called The Bum, and in a few paragraphs he managed to capture the essence of this particular mindset.

Somerset. There’s a name that you don’t see too much. Kind of like Adolph.

Anyway.

These people are actually in a third group. They’re aware that assistance would be nice but they refuse to ask. If someone else calls 911 then they’re fine with the trucks arriving, but they’re not going to ask for help themselves. I actually understand this behavior because I’ve done it myself. Not with a house fire, but there have been plenty of times where I refused to ask for some help I could have used. If the help was offered then I eventually learned to accept it, but for some strange reason I wasn’t very good at asking or accepting any aid when I was younger.

Pride I guess.

But there was another component to my refusal to ask that took me a while to identify. I think I was kind of O.K. with being a martyr. I guess I thought there was something honorable in attempting to accomplish things on my own. I struggled with tasks that would have been much easier to get done had I asked for another set of hands, or another approach to resolving my predicament of the day.

Or, it could be that I felt that asking for help meant that I would owe that person or persons a return favor, and I hate being in any kind of debt.

I still behave this way from time to time. Not anywhere near as much as I used to, but I haven’t entirely stopped the practice either. What I find perplexing is that I find myself getting angry when assistance isn’t offered, and then when the aid is offered, I still turn it down.

When I try to understand why I’ve acted this way, it always comes down to pride depletion because of having to ask for help. My preferred solution to this dilemma is to twist the situation around in my head, to where I feel like I’m doing them a favor by allowing them to help me.

That’s admittedly a bit weird, but I don’t think all that uncommon.

There are also people out there who obviously need help, but their refusal to accept that help is because they believe their situation or mindset is perfectly fine. Alcoholics, drug addicts or Trump supporters are just a few examples. As a rule, these people require a come to Jesus moment, before they admit that their lifestyle has an issue or two that could use some improvement. Of course the come to Jesus scenario is just replacing one addiction for another. The general public then gets to determine if believing in sky beings is more detrimental to society than inebriated vehicular carnage at a school crosswalk. If you look at the big picture it’s probable that religious beliefs do more damage, but in the short term it’s hard to ignore the visual of mangled kids.

These people are best left alone and without an automobile until they gather some self realization, but the collateral damage they inflict until the epiphany can be considerable. An intervention is evidence that these societal anchors still have people around them that give enough of a shit to try and help.

Then there’s another group. People that could use some help but no one gives a shit. No one cares because they need help perpetually and the world has grown tired of their incessant need. Blanche DuBois types, dependent on the kindness of strangers.

Almost everyone has a friend or a family member that fits into this category, and that person is either a Somerset bum or a Tennessee Blanche. Indignantly indigent or pathetically penurious still adds up to needy, but with one critical distinction between the two types.

The bums are dangerous and the Blanche’s aren’t.

The Blanche’s have pretty much shrugged and decided that their life sucks and they could use some help, but they’re mostly resigned to their fate. They’re like the little kid in some impoverished country commercial playing barefoot with a board that has a couple of nails in it, or like the caged puppies in an S.P.C.A. commercial. Sad but not demanding.

The Somerset proud beggars are another matter altogether. These people feel that their predicament is someone elses fault. They feel that they’re owed assistance, and eventually they gravitate toward forcefully taking something they think they deserve or are owed.

Both groups are hard to help. I think the Blanches tend to garner more sympathy than the aggressive bums who are pissed at anyone who has more than them.

I guess if you’re looking for the charity and kindness of strangers, then it’s best to not be an asshole. But, I think we’re hardwired to think that asking for assistance is a sign of weakness. It doesn’t matter if you’re being asked or asking. You either see yourself as weak or accept that someone else see’s you as weak.

And that’s the pride component I was talking about earlier.

Pride isn’t entirely a terrible thing though. Without it, the human race would be constantly seeking help to accomplish things we can manage alone. Everyone’s busy and have their own problems, and so the trick is knowing when to ask for help so you’re not a perpetual pain in the ass.

Because you can’t save everyone. You just can’t.

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