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The year after my dad died was so bad I don't remember 90% of it. I moved to a new apt and was unable to unpack. For MONTHS. I was ashamed I couldn't unpack. How can you be UNABLE to unpack? Just open the g.d. boxes. That was the year I cried for 19 days. Straight. /1
My good friend David - whom I've known since high school - knew I was struggling and he felt helpless. He said "you are loved" "we need you". I was like, "Doesn't matter, but thanks." So he took a risk. It very well could have ended badly. I could have lashed out. /2
I could have been really REALLY offended. But he took the risk. He sent out an email to a group of local friends (w/out my knowledge) and said, "Sheila is struggling. She needs our help. Let's all go over there and unpack her apartment for her. Bring food. Let's make it fun." /3
David sent me an email saying "will you be home Thursday night? Can I stop by?" I said "Sure." Sitting surrounded by 200 unpacked boxes. /4
At 6 pm on Thursday night the doorbell rang and 10 of my friends barged in, bearing platters of food, cleaning products, and complete unconcern for my 'wait ... you CAN'T COME IN HERE I HAVEN'T UNPACKED YET" protestations. They ignored me and got to work. /5
They unpacked my boxes. They put away my 1,500 books. They hung pictures for me. They organized my closet and put away all my clothes. Meanwhile, someone set up a taco-making station in the kitchen. People brought beer. By the end of the night, my apartment was all set up. /6
I literally was unable to do THE SIMPLEST THINGS. And nobody judged me. They were like superheroes sweeping in. One friend arrived late, stood in the hallway, looked at me and said, "PUT ME TO WORK." /7
One of my friends basically took over hanging all of my posters and pictures. "I'm really good at measuring stuff. Let me put all these up in your hallway." I hovered, not wanting to give up control: "wait ... put that one there maybe?" She said, "Go away." I did. /8
And she was so much better at hanging stuff than I was! Here are my friends putting away my books. /9pic.twitter.com/YM87gF1pLs
Here's a break for dinner. Please note that my friend Sheila's dinner plate is resting on my DVD player. /10pic.twitter.com/L1izHmR30P
I was overwhelmed at the sight of all of my crazy friends turning themselves into Santa's workshop. On my behalf. W/out asking me. They just showed up and barged in. I was embarrassed for like 10 minutes but they were all so practical and bossy I had no choice but to let that go.
At the end of the night, I looked at my friend's husband - a quiet tactiturn guy who drives a tugboat on the Hudson - practical, man of few words - and I just looked at him, speechless, not knowing how to say Thank You, especially to this tough resilient self-sufficient man.
He looked at me, saw the look on my face, understood the look, understood everything that was behind it - and said, “Listen, baby, what we did today was a barn-raising.”
That's the end. The "ask for help" advice is well-meaning but not really thought through. There's shame, there's enforced helplessness, there's the feeling you're not worth it, etc. My friends didn't wait for me to ask. They showed up. They took over. They didn't ask.
When they all swept out of there 4 hours later, my place was a home. Not only was everything put away - but now it had a memory attached to it, a group memory, friends, laughing, dirty jokes, hard work. These are the kinds of friends I have. Be that kind of friend to others.
To reiterate: this plan could have backfired. I very well could have been offended, insulted, hurt. David took that risk. Being a friend takes commitment. A willingness to take that risk.
Here's a pic from the tail-end of the night. When you hang Christmas lights for your bereaved friend, you never know what will happen. My favorite part of this is Liz's head low in the corner. She's not even paying attention. She knows it's happening. She just doesn't care.pic.twitter.com/EIoA0pzMeX
"Listen, I'm washing Sheila's dishes so I can put them away. I don't have time to glance upwards at the lascivious Santa's elf in a derby hovering over me. I know it's there. But I've got shit to do for Sheila."
My mom passed away in 2014, and I’ve yet to really I guess be able to cope or deal with the loss. Reading this has been really good for me, and I wish that I had friends, or just anyone that would help me like your friends did. I guess it’s different for guys maybe. Idk 
I'm very sorry for your loss. My friends and I were just talking about showing up for our men friends - who don't ask for help, or who are there for others, not themselves. I mean, I was that way too - but it's important to remember the struggles of others. Hang in there.
Thank you 
so much for your kind words. I’m always there for my friends, family, and even my co-workers, but I guess I just may not know how to let anyone know that I’m struggling and hurt also. I wish I did know how tho
You never know, people may sense you're struggling but not know how to help - or be too shy to address it. They may welcome the chance to be there for you. It sucks to have to ask for help - but it may very well be transformational for you (and them!)
You sound like a good friend. Your friends may be ready to return the favor but not know how.
I try to be there for my ppl in whatever way they may need me to be, and hope that would also be extended back to me if the tables were ever turned. I guess I never act like anything is ever wrong, so no one ever thinks to ask am I ok
Right, people are caught up in their own lives and may think "He's got this. He's fine." People may be like "I had no idea! You should have asked for help months ago!"
(Not that that's fair. It's frustrating especially if you don't know how to ask for help.)
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