Truth

Please feel free to skip ahead. This isn't going to be pretty, or short.

Truth. Such a small word, but with enormous meaning and often even bigger impact and consequences. This is equally true whether it is utilised or not. Recently truth, or the lack of it, has played a very large part in my life. I guess this can be said of anyone at anytime, but truth be told, I'm selfish and self absorbed, and more than a little bit of a drama queen, and this is my blog and its all about me, so you kinda should've expected that.

The truth is something we all grapple with daily. From whether someone's butt looks big in that, to who took the last biscuit at morning tea, to who stole the money from petty cash, and plenty more besides. Truth is something I often have trouble seeing, whether it be my own or someone else's.

To be honest, I don't really like truth. Things in this life are seldom as they appear, and even less often as you wish they were. "Telling the truth" is usually a phrase we use when confessing to, or admitting something. Its not usually a good thing, and even when it is, the good is often tainted by something less than ideal. Let's face it, most of us (myself included) are yet to taste perfection in anything in our lives.

I have had a less than successful relationship with truth. Whilst I am often honest, I am also often untruthful. Unfortunately, TO TELL THE TRUTH, I am quite the accomplished bullshit artist. I am a liar. I always have been. By this I don't mean little white lies, lies that keep the world turning and play into the social necessity of truth-bending. I mean full blown, complete and utter bullshit. I have told some real whoppers in my time, and gone to extraordinary lengths to make them believable. Unfortunately it is honest of me to say that I could have been an exceptional actress. I have previously, and continue to this day, to lie to some of the people I love most. Nay, all of them. I cannot think of a single person I have not told at least one large porky pie to. The webs I have weaved have been large and intricate, catching plenty of prey. I have said it was a habit, a hard one to break. I think it is an illness. And I am afraid it is one I will never beat.

Somebody very important to me caught me out at this and called me on it. He challenged me. At first I denied it. Then I tried to run from it as I had so many times before. Nobody had called me on it so openly before, my running was always pre-emptive. Pre-emptive but inevitable. I didn't run before I was caught, I ran before they got the courage to confront me in a way I couldn't avoid. This man didn't give me that chance. I would love to say that I had the courage to stay and face it with him, but that isn't the truth. My love for him, and my selfish desire not to lose him played a part in it, yes. I harboured that faint glimmer of hope that I could somehow weasel my way out of it and maybe by some slim chance, keep hold of him a little longer. I knew I couldn't keep him forever, that eventually I would be undone and discarded, but I just wanted to hold on, to reap a little more, as we all have at some point. I tried to lie my way out of it, knowing I never could, and knowing I was sealing my own fate. In truth I knew I already had lost him, I was bargaining for time. He wouldn't let me. He kept at me, pushing, pushing, pushing, never letting go, never giving an inch. He called me on it, all of it, left me no option other than to face it, one way or another. I could either admit it to myself, and run from it. or admit it to both of us, and deal with it. Either way I knew I had lost him, lost his trust, lost his love. I'd love to say I chose to admit it and face him, but I only partially chose it.

Both now and at the time, I felt that if I didn't take this chance to be real, that I would lose myself forever. I know that sounds overly dramatic, perhaps it is. But at the time, I truly thought that it was my last chance to change. That if i ran away again this time, that that was it for me, I would always be running, never able to stop, to change, to fix what was wrong with me. Now I'm not as sure, but I pretty much guarantee it was almost definitely my last chance, and if not the very last, certainly it was my very last GOOD chance. I would love to sound romantic and say I did it for him. A small part was, yes. But the majority I did for me.

It was terrible. No. It was worse than that. I was humiliated, truly humiliated. I slipped up many times, and I still do. And even though I promised myself I would fix things, and change things, and do certain things, and in certain ways, I didn't. I failed often, and I failed large. I still fail even now. I truthfully don't believe I will ever fully stop. And sadly, I truly think I could try harder and do better. I am flawed, and its not something small and inconsequential, its an EPIC flaw.

Somehow, strangely, I didn't lose him. He is still in my life. He is still an epic part of it. He reminded me constantly, daily, for weeks of my failure, of the damage I had done to him, to us, to me, everything. When the multiple-times-daily attacks to my conscience turned into once-daily attacks, they still carried the same weight and severity, if not the frequency, and were just as effective. They carried on for quite a while, and even now, 18+ months on there are still the occasional jibes. They still hurt. They remind me of how badly I had failed, not just him, but past people in my life, and myself, and serve as a constant reminder that even tomorrow i will cause new hurts for both myself and others because of my flaw and my inability to cure it. It is a weakness, and it is one that torments me. At times I loathe him for making me face it, for rubbing my nose in it as he did, for the pain he caused me, for making me face something so difficult, for him making it into such a big deal. Yes I am aware how this was right, how I should not complain, should not feel any animosity at all to him, and yes I owe him a debt of gratitude.

It WAS as big of a deal as he made out. I DID deserve to have it thrown in my face repeatedly.

Unfortunately, recently this same person has done the same to me. He has lied for many years, about something of epic proportions. And just like me, it started off innocently, no intention of harm whatsoever, and soon spiralled out of control. At some point he realised he needed to confess. And it was too hard. He couldn't find the right time, or place, or way to say it. I know the feeling well. The wanting to come clean, the knowledge that you are hurting the other person, the fear of the repercussions, the embarrassment, the attempt to wait it out hoping it will get easier/better to confess, the denial, the feeling you have no choice but to continue with it, and all the while knowing it is a mistake that will cost you even more dearly the longer you wait. The selfishness, of not wanting to lose what you have, of desperation as you try and work out a way to say it and not suffer.

I know how he felt. I know why he did it. I completely understand. At the beginning he was probably right to lie. He certainly wasn't wrong to. However we both know that at some point over the years that the lie changed from acceptable to wrong. And wrong in a big BIG way.

Even though this was HIS lie, I am not blame free in this one either. To tell the truth, I kind of knew. Not exactly of course, but I knew there was something off, on more than one level. And I hit the nail on the head too. My gut told me, it told me what the issue was. Not the details, but the core issue? Definitely. And I asked him, more than once, and yes, completely straight up, to the point, no way of misinterpreting or weaseling his way around it. And he lied to my face. Just as I had done to him.

I'm disturbed by this on so many levels I cannot even comprehend them yet. Completely ignoring for the moment the implications of the information contained within the lie, because I still cant fully comprehend them, the act of the lie itself has massive ramifications.

This lie was told by a man who absolutely CRUCIFIED me for having lied to him. A man who told me that was the one thing he could not abide by. A man who rubbed my nose in my own shit pile REPEATEDLY, SEVERELY, and over a PROLONGED amount of time. Who made fun of me for it in front of another. Who guilted me over it more than I have ever been guilted over ANY of my shortcoming throughout my entire life, and that is both an honest AND a truthful assertion.

This lie and its hypocrisy comes from a man whose hypocrisy on other things is a core issue for me. The double standards he lives by and attempts (and to be truthful more often than not succeeds) to place upon me are a major concern to me and a significant cause of conflict between us.

This lie comes from a man whose words and actions are frequently in opposition, and often oppose on core issues to me. Opposition which when questioned have always resulted in the request for my belief and trust to be placed in his WORD, rather than the results of his actions. His WORD being one that now has no credence whatsoever. I now feel that the confidence in his word that I have previously afforded is now required to be re-examined. How now do I reconcile these things? It is not as if there is only one or two items in this pile - there are many, many concerns of varying importance, including a couple of whoppers - deal breakers if you will. Where does all that stand now?

This lie is one I knew in my gut to exist. And I chose to go against my own intuition which has not previously failed me. This is not the first time I have chosen to ignore my better judgement. Why do I do this? Is this another flaw? If so, is it too fatal? Unable to be fixed? Does this make me a fool? Does this make some of MY truths false? Am I wrong to question this? Am I simply beating myself up? Or would thinking that be an excuse, a cop out?

This lie comes from a man whom I lied to. It is hypocritical of me to be considering whether this is forgivable or not. I'm hypocritical in my hypocrisy. Is it wrong of me to consider this lie as unforgivable when I was forgiven my own? Am I justified in thinking that his constant going-on about how bad mine was whilst committing his own bigger one is worse than what I did? Or is that SELF justification rather than just regular old fashion true justification?

This lie comes from a man I need to trust and no longer know if I can. from a man I have trusted blindly and invested upon. A man who I stand to lose alot on if I abandon him. A man who I was not 100% sure I could collect from. Does this make collecting less likely? If I was foolish for investing in him, as I was concerned that I was, does continuing to hold onto that investment make me MORE foolish? Or is it foolish to throw away a possible winning ticket, however unlikely that win is? (And does the size/potential size of that win have an effect?)

Can I ask forgiveness of others of something I will not forgive myself?

Am I a bad person for thinking half the things I am thinking?

Is this normal to think like this, or am I just asking that as justification?

If I continue, it is strength like I tell myself it is, or fear like I worry myself it is?

Do these things matter?

How do I decide any of these things?

I told him tonight one of my issues with the implications of the lie itself. Something that I can see stems from my childhood throughout all my life, that manifests itself in many of the things I do. Its something I want desperately and have never got. Does letting go mean admitting I don't deserve it? Do i deserve it? Have I never gotten it because I don't deserve it?

Is this all too hard, or am I just not who I think I am, or want to be? Is this situation proof that I am chasing an illusion, or testing my resolve/worthiness? Am I reading too much or not enough into all this?

Am I ever going to get to the problems and decisions surrounding the truth that was revealed?

Am I ever going to stop analysing this, go to bed, or actually make the decision?

Since he was so selfish, am I wrong to have selfish thoughts popping into my head? is that normal or rationalisations to make it more palatable/justifiable/forgivable/understandable/ right?

Does this decision even need to be made? Is this ever going to be what I want it to? Is that even possible? Is it even what I want, or am I so caught up in/used to the chase that I'm so used to wanting it that I cant tell whether I really do still want it?

Why am I protecting him? Why am I following his request of not discussing the details of the lie? I know it makes me look like a fool, but clearly I am one for being in this mess. Are "people" right and me wrong, and therefore not only will I be absolutely gutted but also humiliated in front of all those people who regardless of whether they find out now that it is questionable, or later definite, but either way will find out? Or I am right and none of their opinions matter and therefore who cares if they find out because I will be vindicated and they will be the ones embarrassed?

Am I being strong and mature and sensible by resisting my urge to do as I always do and run away, and instead stay put and work through it? Or am I needlessly punishing myself on something that I cant fix and might as well have had a break from to do me the world of good and assist in getting over?

But most of all, why have i spent countless hours beating myself up over somebody else's cock-up?

And what about him? Has he beat himself up over what HE has done to me? Or only himself?

Should he? Should I?


Is there any hard liquor in this house?





Well?