Well… I’m inspired to do this now… Does that make me a follower?
by Sweets and Sweaters
There’s something grounding about saying all the things. And reading someone else say all the things is a relief. I can take a breath and say, “Okay. It’s okay to stop pretending, now. Thank God.”
I woke up this morning anxious and did not want to get out of bed. This is not unusual for me, by the way. Every thing on my to-do list today, I don’t want to do. Didn’t want to do. But I slept a full nine hours and couldn’t go back to sleep. Mind too busy. “I want to stay in bed. I can’t be impressive today. It’s just going to be me pretending I wouldn’t rather lay in bed and fade into blackness all day… I have obligations every day this week. When will I ever get to sleep in again? I want nothing to do. Poor me” etc etc etc.
Not able to sleep, I rolled over, grabbed my computer and knocked one thing of my to-do list (literally a google search). Then hopped on Facebook, clicked on my friends blog and read her latest post. My anxiety released. She was real and from her realness I remembered mine.
So… What do I have to say that’s real? Especially now since I feel like I have to be profound because I’m like “Oh hey. My friend is on this really honest journey and she’s blogging about it. I’m gonna try to do that too…?”
Why would I do this? Why would I start to share the corners of myself with the internet abyss? Not just to be like my friend, right? That would be adolescent. Which I’m not…. (Questionable).
No- I’m doing this because I hide a lot. My friends don’t know what’s going on with me. I don’t tell people anything unless they ask. And if they don’t ask I get mad and tell myself they don’t care about me. “They’re not interested in me or my life. They just talk about themselves.” (Poor me.) It’s a test to see if people care. I do that a lot. And mostly… I gather evidence they don’t.
But I’m thinking about connection and how it changes things. It turns a stupid world kind of beautiful. It turns isolation into love. It turns fear into gratitude. In order for anyone to connect with me, I would have to show them me. And me is something I spend a lot of time trying to hide. ‘Me’ is too vulnerable. I don’t know what ‘me’ will do. How ‘me’ will react. But amidst the hopeless effort of making her disappear ‘me’ sits screaming in my gut. I can feel it. I’m exhausted. I just want to let my freak flag fly, you know?
But I’m real scared. Because like… Pretending is what I do, now and I do it well.
I am hoping that the more I share from the safety that is this computer screen, the more acquainted I’ll get with what’s true for me. And maybe everyone will leave me once they read this. Maybe you will judge me and maybe someone will read this that I wished hadn’t because I want to protect myself. Because it’s safe to have everyone not know. Maybe I will stop this in a day because it will get too confronting or I’ll get busy. Maybe I’ll delete this and pretend to myself that it never happened and no one saw.
But I think of the people who have died in my life and the ones I have regrets about are ones I didn’t know. Ones who didn’t share with me and were a mystery to me. I wished I could have seen every corner of their mind and soul because they mattered to me. I loved them. I would have listened and learned and still loved them no matter what they showed me.
I’m thinking even if there is no one who feels this way about me (which I’m thinking not, but also hoping so and testing it out again. Oops). That at least I won’t have friends under false pretenses and maybe I won’t be so tired all the time because I won’t be trying to pretend so hard. And maybe I’ll find that it was really okay this whole time to be myself because people still love me.
I’ll leave it at that. Maybe, maybe this will be okay. Maybe it will also be the worst. I don’t know.
I’ll look I do look to you for inspiration.