If you haven’t ever visited http://www.postsecret.com/, you should do so. People mail postcards containing a secret to the site’s creator. Every Sunday, new secrets are posted.
I’ve never sent in any of my secrets but there is usually at least one secret each week that I can relate to. And sometimes being able to relate to something can be helpful.
Take the past two weeks for example. I spent them fighting off depression. Nothing new. I’ve struggled with depression on and off for most of my life. But since I quit cutting last November, things have been especially difficult. Cutting was my comfort blanket, my pain reliever (how’s that for irony?), my quick fix.
Cutting was like an abusive boyfriend that I couldn’t leave. I thought I needed it. I thought I couldn’t live without it. And though I eventually worked up the courage to leave that “relationship,” I still have Cutting’s figurative contact info in my figurative phone. And I am still tempted, almost daily, to give it a call. When I’m depressed, that temptation only grows.
After bragging about my time on the cutting bandwagon, I felt guilty about how much I really wanted to cut. I couldn’t tell others about my desire to use my HM of choice (pokemon humor…heh). People look up to me. People are proud of me. I couldn’t let my ego take a stumble like that. I had an image to keep up.
But I wanted to cut.
These were my thoughts for the past two weeks until I visited Post Secret and saw this secret (sorry if the profanity offends anyone).
My feelings exactly (profanity included).
I wasn’t alone.
And knowing I wasn’t alone reminded me that it’s okay to not be perfect. It’s normal to miss something that was such a big part of my life (even if it was bad for me). It’s okay to be honest about my humanity. It’s okay to tell my secrets.
So, here I go, pushing my pride off the balcony. I miss cutting too. The months since November have been some of the worst months in my life just because I’ve had to face them without cutting. I’ve been acting like quitting has given me happiness and freedom. But really, I’ve just felt weak, needy, and lost.
And, more than anything, I’ve felt alone.
But when other people tell their secrets, I know I’m not.
So, tell your secrets. And I’ll tell mine. And we’ll get through this mess that they call life together. And it will be easier because we won’t be alone.