When you die, then I’ll share my story?

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 I don’t want my truth to destroy you. Because, it may.

How many of you have dirty little secrets? Who do you share them with?

Anyone?

Our closest friends, family, therapist perhaps? With whom are we truly safe to share these secrets ?

Does “sharing” release the feelings and the family dynamics associated with them? Are they magically lifted into a vortex that sucks out the sting or unhappy memories ? Do we suddenly become NORMAL.? Does “sharing” change your life? Does it release your hurt?  Can “sharing” possibly change someone else’s life by helping them realize that they they are NOT alone in their confusion and solitude.?

What is in a “share”?.

In my early 30’s I was very lucky to find an excellent therapist who I shared my inner most secrets & feelings with. He helped me very much. From panic attacks to social anxiety, agoraphobia and depression “Oh my” ! No-one knew the extent of the chaos that lived inside of me except for a few close friends who could not fathom my inner struggles that manifested physically. I felt so alone and didn’t know what to do with the overwhelming day to day fears I faced alone. I lied, …. a lot.

Albert passed away after only 2 years into my therapy, just as we were ( imo) hitting pay dirt ! He was 52 ( the same age that my father was when he passed away) I never found another Albert.

Now, as I am getting my feet wet with my blog, finding my voice and getting to the heart of the reasons for sharing my life in book form, I am finding that I get stuck between my desire to be completely transparent and not wanting the truth to hurt anyone else in the process. Being a recovering co-dependent and people pleaser, this goes against everything I ever stood for. ( notice the past tense, “STOOD” ) I have spent my whole life hiding, which may seem odd to people who know me. Just because someone is great at performing, doesn’t mean their performance is true.

This is why the truth, MY TRUTH is so important to me. It is my desire to be more authentic and less afraid to show my vulnerability. I want to learn to ask for help and not have to always be the strong one. I could be holding onto stories, STANDING in STRENGTH,  hoping not to hurt anyone, while possibly the very person I am trying to protect may be holding on to the very same pain and shame, praying for someone to open that awful box. I will never know unless I am real and honest. Will I change the names to protect the innocent?…. of course.

So, ….I have a lot of anxiety that many will disapprove of some of the content I plan on sharing in my book. I am sure, like in most families we were always taught not to “share” what went on at home. I know that my experiences will comfort someone else. My responsibility is to myself and others. I have to remember that I am doing this for the ones who feel alone and ARE alone. For the people who hide under blankets of feelings that terrified them, while putting on happy faces for the world to see. I want you to know that your secrets and feelings are not as crazy as you think.

So, now I ponder…  It’s down to who dies first I guess.

Shall I share now, before you die ?….. Or never, …..after I die?

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