This will be my therapy. Until I stop blogging about my problems and I fall back into being angry, being sad and being ashamed again.

I would love to say that I’m able to be a consistent human being and practice this act of self-care daily or, even more realistically, monthly. However, today I’m telling the truth. I don’t often tell the truth. I wake up drowning in truths and hold my tongue when people pass by and ask how I am. I say, “Doin’ good, how ‘bout you?” The lie isn’t really  the words I say in the moment. It’s a culmination of every little lie that’s led to that moment.

It’s the lie that I put on professional dress, makeup and a smile even though I felt like dying today. It’s the untruth that I deserve to be here amongst all you fine people when all I really did was skate through. It’s the deceit I perform when I pretend that I don’t have secrets that no one can know because, dear God help me, I would likely be fired and shunned. I pretend that the absolute rage I feel, I can control…even though many times I can’t and I don’t.

I lie every day, all day long. It’s exhausting.

So, today, I tell the ugly truth.

I don’t want to be saying hello to you.

I don’t want to smile.

I can’t control all these emotions.

I do have dark secrets that would change the way you look at me.

I just can’t tell the truth when everyone I know wants me to lie to them.

Here it is. Here I go.

But I can’t, because you’re looking at me. It’s too vulnerable, it’s too much openness.

There’s the rub, eh. No matter how much I want to tell the truth, I can’t. Even when the only One who knows everything, loves me more than I can imagine. Other humans are not welcome. Maybe a bit at a time, but not all at once and not so freely.

If there’s anything I’ve learned about other humans it’s that there’s a cost for everything. My secrets are not free. Your soul for my soul. That’s my price. No more, no less.

So, tell the truth. You might see in others your own secrets.