Saturday, August 25, 2012

Secret keeper...

Tell me what you want to hear, something that were like those years. I'm sick of all the insincere
So I'm gonna give all my secrets away. This time. Don't need another perfect line. Don't care if critics ever jump in line. I'm gonna give all my secrets away.
-One Republic, Secrets

Those who have been reading and paying attention might recall that my blog is, for the most part, a secret.  For the longest time I told NOONE. My goal was to keep this as private as possible so that I could be as honest as possible.  
Since I’ve become April, I’ve shared with a very small group of people, that I keep (albeit halfheartedly) a blog. I used to keep a blog on myspace (ha!) and that was public. All my friends and family knew about that one, so I kept it pretty tame.  Since the demise of myspace, some friends and family have asked me if I have thought of having one.  So I’ve told them. Yeah I do, but you can’t know about it. It’s private.  This caused a shit storm that I found pretty surprising. I never would have thought that it was so important for some people to read what I had to say. The more they pushed the more I pushed back. Here is the thing. I’m not sure how I feel about writing.  I don’t know what I think about my skill level. I don’t know if what I have to say is worth listening too.  I know for a fact, that the people who love me, and I am loved, would try and be encouraging.  I can’t help but think about all the hot messes we see in the audition process of American Idol.  I, for one, can’t watch that part.  I always ask myself. Who are these sad sorry people who don’t have people in their lives to tell them… ummm this is not for you sweet heart.  Instead they bolster them and mislead them into thinking they are better. It's an injustice and a disservice.
Again, if you have been paying attention, you know that I am also in group therapy. One day it came out in group, that I had one. So, now the group people knew. And I think that occasionally one or two of them read it. Which is actually great and I don’t mind per se; I lucked out with the group therapy. I enjoy my fellow nutters and am looking forward to seeing them again soon. (We’ve been on hiatus for the summer) A little bit at a time I’ve started telling people that I really trust, that in addition to being me, I’m also April. Each person that I’ve told, I’ve sworn to secrecy. So far so good.
Here is the not so good part.  I’ve written posts. Things that cross my mind. Things that frighten me about myself. Things that I know would shock the people who know me.  Things I’ve never told anyone about myself. Things which make me nervous about my character. I’ll never post those things. Why? Because am not ready for the people who think they know me to really truly know me. Once I say it, it’s out there. The good. The bad. The ugly. The weird. The sick. The dark and the light.   Trust me, I am a mixed bag of stuff. 

 I had this great talk with a friend of mine where we spoke about secrets. When she told me hers, I was relieved almost.  It was way more tame than I thought it might be, based on her build up to it. Lots of pacing and such. However I do get that for her, it was huge. I feel like I’ve done and thought way worse things than that. But she might not think so. It is all a matter of perception.  Obviously some shit is just bad. i.e; I killed someone and hid the body in my bosses closet and now I'm going to let him fry. Not every secret is like that. But all the things that we keep to ourselves mean something. Letting it out does something to you and for you.  This same friend told me about postsecret.com.  According to the website, it is a "community art project". That idea is that you can either email or send a post card to this guy about whatever your secret is.  He has complied them into books.  I am now obsessed with this. 

Say what you will, but I think that there is nothing like a judgment free confession.  Being raised catholic and going to catholic school, I went to confession.  Confession was weird for me. I hated going, but I felt like I had to go. Secretly, I think I sort of wanted to go.  I remember feeling oddly compelled to confess about some sexual exploit I had when I was about 15 or so. It was a strange feeling of both, guilt and relief.  Father Whatever likely didn’t care. I’m sure he had heard way more scandalous stuff than my feeling guilty on giving my boyfriend a blowjob. Or, and this sickens me, maybe he got off on it and jacked off in corner somewhere.  What would happen if I told someone my deepest and my darkest. Would they judge me? Shun me? Think me disgusting or evil? Or would they say, oh that’s it? Really?  That’s nothing!
I think that we all have something inside of us that we’ve never told anyone about that needs release.  How do you get that release? Do you ever? Or do you just stuff it down with food, drink, drugs, depression, sex, shopping etc?  I have no answer.
One of my friends has called me a secret keeper. She’s right, and there is a reason for it.

2 comments:

  1. " therefore, since the world has still
    Much good, but much less good than ill,
    And while the sun and moon endure
    Lucks a chance, but troubles sure,
    I'd face it as a wise wo-man would,
    And train for ill and not for good.
    But take it; if the smack is sour
    The better for the embittered hour;
    It will do good to your heart and to your head
    When your soil is in the souls stead;
    AND I WILL FOREVER FRIEND YOU, IF I MAY,
    In the dark and cloudy day."

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    1. Ah thanks for stopping by doll face... Glad you know who April is.

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