I’ve Gotta Be Real

It Hurts To Be Human

I’ve gone almost 24-hours without opening my mouth to speak with another human being and it dawned on me…

This is the quietest I’ve been since before landing in the hospital 9-months ago.

I’d been in survival mode for a while prior and fighting for my life much longer than a year.

What does that mean — fighting for my life?

I suspect that you can probably relate, though you might not realize it for what it is.

When we’re quite and calm, everything is easy. We just “are”.

No rush. No hustle. No explanation.

It’s only through conflict we must effort.

And the more we effort, the more we mask.

We mask our feelings. We mask our fears. We mask our pain.

Because in interactions with others we must put ourselves aside.

We perform. We entertain. We please.

I’ve been a trooper — going the distance to get through.

On Monday I finally broke down and realized that I had to allow myself to check out from all that, in order to really check in.

On Tuesday I showed up for the things and people who matter, then cleared my calendar for the rest of the week to finally get some proper rest and regroup.

What IS my next move?

I had an outstanding day visiting with fantastic friends then once I got back to my hotel — it hit me.

And it’s been hitting hard ever since.

I hurt!

My Spirit’s never changed, perfect in every way.

But my body — oh my body. My body is finally feeling the battle wounds.

While getting stronger and stronger every day since surgery, that strength has been necessary to overcome vulnerability — the physical condition.

One of the many realizations I’ve had over these past 24-hours is that you don’t need more information from me — you can get that anywhere.

Why should I be just another teller?

I’m a teacher. I’m a friend. I’m a lover.

You want to know me, that’s why you’re here.

You read my words to connect, so how can I continue to put up walls to protect?

I didn’t feel worthy before. I didn’t feel like enough.

I know better though.

So from now on, I’ll write to You.

Not you collectively — efforting to offer some idea of “value”.

Just You alone — an extension of Me.

Dear Diary, as they say — raw and unfiltered.

As Your Friend, As Your Confidant, As Your Love.

I want to let you in on my secrets — to tell you all of my thoughts.

It’s taken me so long to figure out how to express without concern for your comfort.

I think I’ve got it now.

And I look forward to our next chapters.