Wednesday, March 17, 2010

What if

What would the world be like if I woke up tomorrow and just told the truth? The whole, unblemished, sometimes dark and twisty, truth? Not on the obvious does my butt look fat in this? Some little white lies are necessary for the world to continue on harmoniously. But what if I was to tell my mother exactly what went on under her roof when I was a child? The ways that I was used, broken and messed about. What if I told her about the anger I harbor, that she didn't protect me, she didn't love me enough to notice, that I was so inconsequential to her. What if I told my grandparents that their expectations suffocate me to the point where I feel like I will never breathe freely again? That I am less concerned with completing my degree than with completing the lattice work of self harm scars tatooing my thighs? What if I told my older sister that, in fact, what happened to you in our childhood was not the worst, and although I don't know it for sure, I am pretty sure it is I, who retain the most scars, despite your aptitude at being the victim in the family? What if I told my little sister, that it is not my job to continue to protect her, I have sacrificed myself for her, but I am not her keeper? What if I could ask them to be foundations for me, when the gremlins seem determined to drag me under. What if I told my therapist how attached I have become to her, and how very angry and scared that makes me, because, she is, and all she ever can be is a therapist, who by very description will leave. That I am angry that she can not be available to me at the times when the gremlins are worse? That she doesn't have any magic answers? What if I told her the depths of depravity I have been a party to and she turns away? What if once I get angry, once I feel the pain...really feel it...I can't stop it.

Through the counsel of another, and some self reflection today, I realised I am not doing as good a job as I thought keeping this under wraps. Everybody knows I am not being entirely truthful. Would the truth actually be better for them, then the worry of guessing. Does the truth really set us free?


  1. How does it make you feel to contemplate telling the truth? I almost had a panic attack as I read this - thinking about how I would feel, what would happen if I told *my* truths. An immediate - not going to happen - response in my entire body. I'd like maybe to think that one day it won't matter. That at the very least, it won't matter to me that things have happened that I have kept hidden, or lied about in order to "protect" others and that I will be free, even if the truth is never disclosed. Perhaps just a pipe dream. Take care of yourself. N xx

  2. I think it can set us free, when we're ready to begin to heal.

  3. In a way the truth can set us free. I once told my mother how I felt about the way she treated me as a child and she got very upset, not in an angry way. She cried and she apologised to me. In a way over the years since then, I have made some level of peace with her. I think if you can 'say it', got for it. I found it hard to say but it felt good on the other side. Thinking of you!

  4. Someone once told me something like this: When speaking a difficult truth, it must be said at the right time, in the right way, and for the right reasons. I think there was a little more to it than that, but that's what I remember. I find it is important to consider my intentions and the desired results I want when I wish to say something difficult. Not that I am always so good at thet, but it's still a good principle.