Honesty Equals Getting Help
No one, including me, can help unless I am honest about what I need help with. Honesty equals getting the help that so many of us, myself included, need so desperately.
That honesty? It isn’t only about being outside with those outside yourself, but yourself first and foremost. That level of honesty only comes from self-reflection and self-examination.
If I can’t be honest with myself (brutally so at times), how can I expect to share and be honest with others? And how can I expect to get the help and support I so desperately need?
Honestly, I Need Help
Honesty equals getting help. There was a time, years ago, when I so desperately needed help. But I didn’t understand what I needed help for.
I wasn’t honest with myself. I couldn’t be honest with myself. The truth about who I was and how I grew up was all too painful to admit to, let alone talk about and share.
But I had to share what I knew to get help, therapy, and medication. I had to unburden myself of the secrets paramount in keeping—for keeping those secrets meant my survival all those years ago.
I thought I had to keep those secrets for the rest of my life.
Do you know what happened when I shared the secrets? Nothing. The earth did not suddenly open up and swallow me. And lightning did not strike me down for my transgressions.
Do you know how I felt? A great sense of relief. I felt unburdened for the first time in my life.
Honesty and Clarity
I recall a recent intake conversation with a new medication management doctor.
When the intake coordinator asked me about my history—why I needed medication—I shared everything. I am not kidding. I shared everything. And she thanked me for being honest about my life history.
That was a new moment for me.
I was proud of the clarity I gained over years of therapy.
I began to understand what I had been holding inside and how toxic it was to me and those around me. All those secrets held within my body and mind my entire life were poisoning me. Oh, I held all of that until I no longer could.
And that was when the alcoholism and the anger started seeping through. It was at that moment my husband came to me. And what he said would change my life. It would change our lives for the better.
and it also means gaining relief. I never realized how much keeping my childhood secrets weighed heavily upon me. As I shared my truth that day and the days that followed, it was as though I was finally exhaling for the first time.
But within that relief, there was also a sadness. Relief that I no longer am the keeper of secrets that are not my responsibility to keep. Sad because when laid bare, I realized what I should have had in childhood that I was not allowed.
I have an immense loss I carry with me. It isn’t a hole of things that could have been. It is a true sense of loss. Unfortunately, the type of loss is typically only recognized when a person dies.
But there was a death, my death. And I mourn myself. I mourn what was taken from me. I mourn what was never provided. And most of all, I mourn what perhaps could have been.
And I wonder, as I have throughout most of my life, how would my life have been different had my life not been taken?
Are you an adult survivor of childhood abuse and trauma? I encourage you to seek therapy. The burden of shame and guilt is not yours to bear. I found therapy a place where I can heal. I know you will too.
I recommend Online-Therapy.*