I had an epiphany last night, and I don’t know why I never thought of it in these terms before but I am not honest. I don’t mean I’m untruthful, as in someone who lies. I don’t cheat and I’m not dishonest in that sense of the word, in fact I think if you polled any number of my friends and acquaintances they would tell you I’m a “stand up” kinda guy. Maybe even one of the “truest” and most honest people they know. Where my honesty falls down is (at minimum) here, on this page and perhaps in the interpersonal baring of my soul. Certainly I don’t think I’m honest with myself.
I am still reading a book called “The Right to Write”, and found in the current chapter is the spark that lit this fire. The author talks about how here, in the written word, is where we should be most honest, the most real. And in doing so we will be honest and truthful with ourselves, asking and answering those tough questions, in search of the truth. If not here then where else? Of course we should also be real to our friends and family, but perhaps not quite as real, not as blunt, or perhaps less aggressive in our cutting to the chase. Don’t challenge your mother-in-law as to why she’s such a crappy driver, that may be a bit too honest. Here though, in a blog or journal, we should be able to ask those questions. And in the asking we would hope to find the answer.
So now my honesty is in question. I am not completely open here, I don’t tell the whole story, I think I deceive myself in areas of my life where I should not. I tell myself things will be ok when I don’t really believe they will. And to be clear here I’m not referring to depression, in that area and some others I continue to try and be optimistic, it’s more about who I am inside.
To be fair to myself I do believe I’ve made some headway over the last number of months, and my path through depression and counselling has taught me some things about who I am. In order for me to grow completely, to heal fully and really be the best I can be I must acknowledge those deficiencies, recognize where I’m deceitful to myself and work my way back towards honesty, to myself and to my future. I’m hoping I have the strength, the intestinal fortitude, because Honestly…..I’m scared.