And so it
comes: the eve of the New Year, the end
of the Old. A time when – wanted or not – we start to think back on all the
things we have achieved and the many more we may regret.
I write to
you now, before I forget them, all the deep and meaningful things which came to
me in a moment of inspiration in the shower (of course, as all great
philosophical moments do).
First of
all, allow me to apologise for the absence of a name and proper address. You
see, it is not without some amount of anxiety that I draft this little attempt
to vocalize the thoughts in my silly head. Maybe I have over-thought these
things, and no longer follow any form of logic in my words. Perhaps I have
under-thought instead and will proceed to make false accusations. No matter. I will proceed to put down these
words (foolishly wise or wisely foolish, as they may be) because at one small
point, they made sense to me. As well, the marvellous (bath-time) thoughts
revolved around not one, but various persons who have walked in and out of my
personal – and often volatile – space. You, my “friend”, are therefore hypothetical
and absolutely generic. I think you may even be myself.
I will
start with this confession: I have not always been honest with you. Not on any specific topic, but rather a few
throughout the time we have known each other. “Well now,” you might say, “That
is completely normal. White lies and non-committal hums and nods are completely
necessary to keep a friendship going.”
“Complete
and unquestionable honesty,” You may continue to say, “Is surely the recipe for
the end of a friendship.”
Is it
really though? Of course, I don’t mean to say that I don’t think those same
thoughts. I have very often simply gone along with a conversation just because
I do not wish to irritate the person any further than he/she already is; Or
failed to point out a flaw (insignificant or otherwise) in the argument to
avoid becoming the subject of one’s ire; Or even allowed my own argument to
collapse in order for fires to be put out.
The truth
shall set thee free. So say the wise men. What the wise men failed to preach
was how much honesty may sting and how it can more often than not, backfire and
scar the truth-bearer instead. How often have I regretted speaking my true mind
(or what I perceived to be true) ? That being said, here is yet another
confession.
I have not
always been honest with myself. Bear with me. This will tie in with the above.
At some point.
I have lost
count of the number of incidences where I have convinced myself that all is
good, and the decisions I make are right. In fact the opposite may have been
more true.
You may or
may not have been privy to the fact that I had regular sessions with a psychiatrist
in the later months of 2012. Whether or not it has improved my mental
fortitude, I cannot say. Although it has made me more aware, somewhat.
One of the
things the doctor asked me consistently at every session was this,
“Why are
you so afraid? You desperately want everyone to approve of you. Why?”
I could
never give him a straight answer. Most times I could not answer at all. The
question defeated me every time. Yet through that constant interrogation, it’s
made me see some unpleasant truths about myself. One is this:
I allow
myself to be swayed. Not always, but so very, very often. The thought of being
left out or left behind terrifies me so much that I will usually go along with
any idea or plan that is laid out. I am so afraid of being wrong, that I will
be the first to agree that you are right.
I want so
badly, so impossibly, to be good in your eyes, I will strive to fit your model.
Sadly, a
poorly fitted gear is so often the catalyst for failure in any machinery.
Usually that failure is catastrophic, to say the least.
I break, without
a doubt. I get tired of saying “yes”, and I get tired of not saying anything
and of playing “Follow the Leader”. That’s when my reality starts to warp.
Suddenly, it seems that people are being unfair, even unjust. The alleged
injustices begin to add up and so, it would seem to me, it is time to go on the
defensive.
Here is
where the hurt and heartbreak fell all sides. You, my friend, who has only seen
a poorly constructed version of me will not understand what has warranted the
sudden lashing and will put up shields of your own. I will only further upset
myself for this, for I cannot seem to make you understand what injustices have
been laid against me. So the siege begins and the battle wages on until when
next we blink, being friends was just a myth.
So it boils
down to this: I am poor at being honest with myself. In doing so, I fail to be
honest with you, my friend. In being dishonest with you, I betray myself and so
the spiral into misery finds no end.
I see that
once again, I fail to end my tedious lecture before the New Year. It is now
some 30 minutes past. I’ll end it now.
I should wish
to be more honest with myself and all my friends, even if some may not
encourage it. More than that, however, I wish that I may be honest without fear
– fear of your pride (and mine); fear of hurting one another, and fear of
failing to keep yet another friend.
