I consider myself a pretty moral person. I don’t steal, cheat, murder…..or lie. At least not much….on the lying part that is. Did I just admit to the blogging world that I’m a big fat liar? Erm, yes. There. That was at least a bit more honest than I’ve been in a long time.
Now don’t panic and wonder if you really know me at all. It’s not that I’m a bald face liar. I won’t lie to get out of things, I won’t lie to get what I want, I won’t lie to your face (unless it’s a courtesy to spare your feeling.) What I will do is omit the truth. A LOT.
The truth is (yes the TRUTH!) that I’m an excellent faker. I’ll be having the worst day of my life and yet you’ll see me and I’ll smile sweetly, ask you how you’re doing, tell you I’m fine and leave it at that. Now that’s not such a bad thing in my mind. Who want to be burdened with everyone’s problems on a daily basis? We all have our own traumas that we’re going through and if we had to shoulder everyone else’s, we’d crack.
The danger (for me, at least) comes when I don’t think I’ll be able to fake my way through the day… or week or month. Then what? Well, I stop going out in public where I may need to fake it. I tend to go silent and become absent from my favorite social situations and social networking sites. If you cared to hunt me down during one of these times when I’m suddenly just missing from online and elsewhere, you’d probably find me curled into a little ball in my bedroom, watching episode after episode of ANGEL or FIREFLY or DR. WHO. Really, there’s no shortage of my favorite shows on Netflix to keep me in self-imposed exile indefinitely.
So what does all this have to do with honesty?
It has everything to do with it. The reason I fall into these bouts of depression (well there are many) but one of the reasons is because I’m not being honest with myself. Just like when I smile sweetly to your face and tell you I’m fine, I do the same thing to myself. You’re fine, Christauna. Everything is fine. Now pass me the cheetoes and a leaded Dr. Pepper.
In the past couple of months I have had to face myself, look myself in the eye and become brutally honest. I may not have to shoulder everyone else’s burdens but I for darn sure need to shoulder my own.
Yes, I do have issues with depression and have for many years. I’m beginning understand exactly what that means and how to deal with it. This involves being honest with myself and confiding in a trusted few when I find myself curled in my room with my Dr. Pepper and remote.
It’s no longer good enough to lie to myself, survive and be an excellent faker.
Which is why in conjunction with the reboot of my writing career and this new blog, I’ll tell you right now, I will be totally honest here. If you’d rather not shoulder a particular burden of mine, you’re welcome not to read the blogpost.
That being said, I will not generally pour out my darkest secrets and desires here. I enjoy a certain amount of privacy, but for things that are relevant to this blog, you may get an earful.
Today is a beautiful, sunshiny day and I am happy and fine. And that is the honest truth.