Tales of Toxic Independence

A while ago, I read about the concept of toxic independence, where a person goes out of their way to avoid asking for or accept help, even when they need it and it would be willingly offered. This is likely rooted in some kind of trauma from younger years. I don't want to think too hard about that part because this is a trait I have really started to see reflected in myself. 

So - today's tale. I was hauling my little cart of archive materials to a classroom for our after school archive club. I bought the little cart so I don't have to keep borrowing the caretakers' cart. I brought it to the room, which was up a small flight of three steps. Somebody passed. 'Do you want a hand? It's not very heavy, we can lift it up.' 'No, no,' I replied, 'I'll be fine.'

For, at the top of the steps, I had long noted a couple of eyelets - it was clear to me that the platform lifted up and, I decided, it was going to be a ramp. I would just wheel the cart up. No need for anyone to help. 

I positioned myself behind the eyelets and prized them out. I yanked hard - one side came free, but the other was stuck. Repeat but the other side came free. I decided it must have been a long time since anybody did this. Nobody knows it's here! I thought. I wiggled myself into a better position, channelled all my deadlift training and yeeted the ramp up, whereupon it became obvious that it was not a ramp but a hatch, concealing a dark pit that had clearly not seen sunlight for at least half a century, and into which my phone had tumbled, thrown out of my pocket by the force of my yeeting. 

At exactly this point, the caretaker appeared around the corner. Sometimes the universe messaging is just too strong to ignore, so I allowed him to retrieve my phone since he was not wearing a skirt ('Not today, anyway,' he replied) and there was the filth of ages in the pit. He resealed it, and whatever plagues were threatening to waft free, for probably another century. 

This could have all been avoided if I'd accepted the offer of help in the first place. I sheepishly requested help to get the cart back down at the end of the session. 

You really think I'd have learned by now but no.