Comments/Correspondence to:

Truth is a funny thing. I think the most amazing thing about truth is that it usually happens when you least expect it, or when you have least prepared or planned for it, or when it comes from a direction you could not have possibly imagined. I am pretty sure that most of you, who have thought seriously about truth, have already come to this conclusion.

Another thing I realized about truth is that I am definitely not privy to some sort of truth that the rest of you don't know about. I used to think this. I used to believe that the truth I thought I saw in my mind was so different than the truth I witnessed around me. I won't berate myself too much for this misinformation, but I do wish I had seen this so clearly at a much earlier time in my life. Truth.

"If I knew then what I know now." How many times have we heard that haunting refrain before? Oh my God I thought I would strangle the next person I heard say that, when I was 18 or so. Now it is on my mind so much sometimes I think I might strangle my self. [Editor: Note the spacing in "my self;" author is no longer suicidal.] But sadly, it's so true. Truth.

Actually, if I had known then what I know now, the magnitude of the mistakes I could possibly make is so great, it's mind-boggling. The truth there is that we know what we're supposed to know when we're supposed to know it, and not a moment sooner. Tough s**t, that's just the way the cookie crumbles. There is another truth: we know what we're supposed to know for a specific reason, likely only for that reason alone, and we aren't supposed to know why we know something until the time comes for us to reveal what we know. This I know. Truth.

Hmmm. I think I just heard the world mutter, "Duh!" Or was it you all?!? Either way, call me late for this E-ticket ride on the "Train of Truth," but don't call me late for dinner. And don't call me Shirley, either.

Well, I've been hung up about the truth of my diagnosis for the better part of a decade and I just simply must get over it already. I've been so afraid of letting people know "the real me" that I've kept this "dirty little secret" tucked away in my favorite mortuary of personal revelation ever since I've received the knowledge. The day I received diagnosis I felt like the most depraved, felonious convict as had ever existed. From that moment on, I assumed many things, mostly false of course, and I proceeded to drive myself to the brink of extinction for the next ten years. Truth.

Where did I get such a skewed perspective about this disorder, anyway? I certainly cannot accept it as a truth, logical or otherwise. Was I force-fed these erroneous conclusions, or did I just delude them up all by myself? [Editor: "Myself."] In either case, or from whatever etiology, I am glad to be able to, today, begin shedding my baggage. It's been a long time coming, but I can finally feel the vestiges of my "Decade of Dearth" slipping away. I am feeling an emergent freedom beginning to envelop me in its warmth with womb-like familiarity. Truth.

You know what I have to call this feeling? I have to call it coming home, really. I am coming back to myself after having stepped outside of my self so long ago. I am no longer being the snake that eats itself, but am becoming merely the dog that chases his own tail. I think that's much more appetizing, proverbially. It is a much more comfortable place to be, too. It's alot easier to be yourself if you're not trying to destroy yourself. It's also amazing how crowded that lonely road can be.

I trusted someone with my truth today, the truth of my self as I've come to inter it. It was ironic that I made so much of a big deal of it, as it turns out. Apparently, as I had come close to outing myself during a conversation, my subconscious (or super-, really) decided that close wasn't close enough. My self shared with this person a piece of paper that had nothing to do with my little secret, or so I believed. Turns out that this particular piece of paper had my diagnosis written on it. So my friend, in reading the paper for a totally different reason, had advertently read about my diagnosis - AND I HAD NO IDEA!

Well, tonight I hemmed and hawed all around the subject, not consciously knowing why I felt it was so important that I reveal my self tonight. Man, it felt like I was mentally trying to birth a 20lb baby! All that strife and struggle and the truth was already in my friend's hands and heart. Apparently, God had already decided that this person was someone that I could truly trust to not subject me to ridicule, defamation, or otherwise demoralize my self. Truth.

For this experience I am eternally grateful, for the first and foremost reason that the truth is now undoubtedly known about me, between my friend and myself. There is a fresh sense of freedom that I almost don't know how to contain. I am starting to see my self (and myself) in a much different way! And in this way, at least for today, I can look at myself in the mirror and say these words:

I like myself, I love myself, I accept myself, and I respect myself.

I don't ever want that to change again, not ever, no-sir-ee Bob! Thanks for letting me share, and thanks for reading. Namaste

To live is to wonder.
To wonder is to live.


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