I have notebooks all over the house filled with writing. Frustrated thoughts, helpful ideas, paranoid delusions all share the space of the unedited manifestations of my mind.
I am filled with an unease when I review these entries. I don’t remember the certainty with which I wrote about ideas that don’t seem like my own.
If what I find is too revealing, too upsetting, or filled with too many things I don’t want to see, I rip the page out, ball it up and move it to the bottom of the trash, where it won’t have the ability to unsettle me any further. I am a deleter. A destroyer of the past. A dissolver of unpalatable truths.
I deleted a whole blog once. Dozens of posts with important information about myself, removed and destroyed.
There are some things we don’t like to admit about ourselves. Maybe we wish we weren’t so loud, or needy, or that we didn’t eat or drink our feelings.
Maybe we have some troubles that are even bigger than self-doubt, that it’s time to start addressing. These are the kind of troubles that are hard to ignore over time.
Maybe we push people away so they don’t get close enough to see what’s really going on.
Maybe we have used guilt, or control, or manipulation in the past, to to try to get the things we needed, because we didn’t know how else to get them any other way.
Maybe we are tired of working so hard to keep our pieces sewn together, and we just stop trying and let them start to fall.
This is our story of falling down, and getting back up again.
As many times as it takes.
We won’t be deleting, denying or censoring here.
People talk an awful lot about vulnerability, but it is my experience that most are unprepared for the demands that vulnerability place on others. If being emotionally honest with others was easy, and compassion was plentiful, healing would be a much less daunting process.
If we are being honest, my vulnerability is worthless without your compassion. The truth will die unheard without the benefit of being heard. I am hoping that my heart isn’t leading me astray by demanding more from myself and others. I am hoping that curiosity, intelligence and a desire to understand will help to create a dialogue about mental illness, and that the chasm between you and I will begin to shrink.
Perhaps then we can focus on our shared humanness, and how we are all more alike than different. We will all experience the dark moments of chaos that life brings. When we stand beside each other in compassion and understanding, we surrender the power of our ego, and feel the bonds of solidarity.
We are here to collaborate with each other. I hope you will find some resonance here. When we are seen by another, we can no longer be alone.
I am ready to be seen as who I am, rather than the collection of behaviors I have amassed to live in the world around me.