Secrets=Sickness

Everyone has their secrets, I know I sure do. My secrets are those burdensome things that I carry around with me daily. They wear me down a lot of times, they hurt when I remember them, and they are embarrassing. They are the things that I don’t want anyone to know. Things I don’t even want to know. Sometimes they haunt me and I fear that if other’s knew some of the things I’ve done or allowed to happen I’d be ruined. An interesting perception huh?

The truth is, that my secrets are regrettable but they aren’t as bad as I think they are. In fact, they are minor but because I’ve held on to them for so long they’ve been magnified in my mind. Truth is, no one cares about my secrets, they only care about what I’m doing now. They care about my future not my past.

I’m the only one who cares about my secrets. I nurtured them back to life every time they attempted to die. I willingly went on the sick rollercoaster ride with my hands high in the air screaming for the ride to be over but silently enjoying tormenting myself. The bible tells us to confess our sins to one another so that we may be healed. However I did the opposite. I painted a smile on my face and peered through imprisoned eyes in order to impress people who were only passing through.

I became sick in a hospital of one and attempted to prescribe my own medication through diagnosing myself with multiple personality disorder. Of course that would be fair right? My past was one me and I’ve grown into a new me, but I never let go of her. My past haunted me as I walked around with nervous knees knowing that at any moment I could fall back into old ways of being. Crippled by the images in my mind I failed miserably and often times purposely.

Secrets can hurt other people but they hurt the person holding them even more. They force us to retreat to ways that are so abstract that we barely recognize ourselves. We ask, who am I? Do I have worth or does this occurrence define me? They distort our perceptions, self-awareness and cause us to settle in ways never meant. We struggle, we fall and we labor over them.

They aren’t worth the trouble. In fact I guarantee someone has had a similar secret if not the same one. Is saving face worth it? Is it worth your health and sanity? Just think about it: if your health fails you won’t care how you look, right? You’ll stop trying to impress people who really don’t matter because they won’t be there to care for you.

Choose life. Choose you. Get free!

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