Friday, 8 March 2013

Free of deceit and untruthfulness

That's the dictionary meaning of honest. And yet more and more I find honesty difficult to come by. For is it not deceit and untruthfulness when we hide the truth even though we may not utter a complete lie?

When someone asks me how I am they expect to hear a calm, placid 'I'm fine.' Maybe even a pleasant 'I'm good.' No one wants to hear the truth. No one wants to hear the wretched thoughts that I have. The constant chaos in my head, one thought colliding with another, none reaching any fruitful culmination. Does anyone want to know how vulnerable I am, how scared and insecure? Hell, No! Let's see the cool and collected strong, independent single mother. She's handled it all so well. Umm...reality check...No she hasn't! She's a wreck and hasn't even allowed herself to figure out the full extent of the wreckage.

Which brings me to how deep this aversion to honesty runs. It's not just others who can't deal with honesty. It's so incredibly painful for me to be honest to myself.

I am hateful of people who are successful. If they are friends there is a small tiny piece of me which is happy for them but the rest of me is hateful. Because they have what I don't. They have what I want. They have what I could have had but for the fact that I never figured out how.

I am jealous of people who seem to be in happy relationships. For the same reasons.

I am suspicious of people who seem to be happy in relationships. Because I have no faith any more. In love. In men. In relationships.

If you're thick with your cousins or're on my list buddy. Cos that's what I always wanted and never got.

Live abroad? Holiday internationally? Got a wad of money? Yup, I may smile when you tell me about it but inside I am seething.

Now here's the thing. It's been so difficult for me to write this. To admit to these horrible, petty thoughts. If I were to do it in person you'd say 'Aww c'mon you don't really mean it' or 'You'll get there, look how hard you've worked and how far you've come'. Well, I do really mean it. And I don't want to be placated. This is how I feel. And it makes me come across as vulnerable, insecure, petty and jealous because that is all part of who I am. It is not all of me but it is a part of me. So there's honesty for you. Not pretty huh?

So that is why we all run, as fast and as hard as we can from the truth. We all dance around it. A waltz where we carefully step around any truths that may slip out of another. Play the game. The eternal game. With a partner, never let on to your feelings. You play hard to get and he'll follow, you run after him he'll bolt.  Why can't we both just say this is what I need and find happiness in that knowledge?

Professionally, project an image. Play the game. Talk the talk and walk the walk. Why? I'm new here. Why can't I say that instead of pretending that I know more than I do so that I can get work so that I am not new to it while I am still new to it?????

I don't want to play the game. I want to say what I feel. I want to be honest. I want to be free of deceit and untruthfulness as ugly as that may be.


  1. I think a lot of people -- most people -- feel the same way you do. It's wonderful that you've gone out there and said it. It takes the power away from those 'petty thoughts' because that's just what they are -- thoughts. It's not a crime to think them. Evolution has schadenfreude and jealousy and rivalry wired into us. I think it's an achievment enough to not ACT on those thoughts :)

  2. It's petty, it's natural.... I think humans are petty petty by nature, we just like to aspire for exalted status and emotions but we are petty. Period. And it's not all that bad because this pettiness drives you to struggle, the struggle drives you to grow, the growth makes you reach a better place than where you are today. The irony of life is that apparently we need to be miserable to be able to achieve.... go figure :)

  3. I feel deja vu reading some of your lines, because I have felt them with such exactitude. But I also think that this must be that precious moment of really becoming a writer: when we come to terms with our ugliest flaws, and thereon resume the business of writing, knowing that it is not what we supposed it to be. It is not, as we thought, the process of finding ourselves on the page or becoming someone --- but just that enormous, enormous task: to observe ourselves living.

    1. Thank you, I loved what you wrote