Follow up...

Often when I write, I'm able to leave the topic and move on to something else. Yesterday's topic is lingering. I grew up among predators. One was arrested coming out of church. He was jailed, all the while declaring himself innocent because he hadn't had intercourse with his victims. Yes, you read that right. He painted himself innocent because he swears that he hadn't actually had intercourse with any of his victims. I don't want to imagine how well that excuse will go over before the Throne of God. Remember that it would be better to have a millstone about the neck and thrown into the depths of the sea. That's better. It's going to be ugly. A predator lies to everyone, including him or herself. Maybe especially to him or herself.

I've recently finished five years of therapy. I'd been through two one-year rounds previously. The two earlier rounds saw me through some rough patches, but I don't feel like I actually changed. I was still struggling with almost exactly the same problems, with slightly different packaging. This time is different. It wasn't easy. It was incredibly hard. There were plenty of times when I did not want to face another day. Anyone who thinks therapy is wonderful hasn't had decades-old scabs stripped away, leaving you raw and vulnerable and feeling like the wound happened yesterday, again.

I think one of the hardest things I had to acknowledge was finally realizing how much I lied. I was brutally trained in the art of lying. I lied to protect myself. I lied to protect others. I lied to present an image of peace and calm and ease. I lied when I didn't have to lie. I lied without even realizing. I lied out of habit. Paradoxically, I did not tolerate lies from others. A part of me felt like I over-reacted. Now, I know why. I was calling others on the carpet for something I did myself. I really hate it when I point a finger at someone else and there are several pointing back at me.

Starting therapy this last time, I knew all the lies had to end. It wasn't easy. Sometimes it was a struggle one moment to the next. There were those who didn't want me to change. People who supposedly loved me. It was okay if I changed, as long as I remained the same with them. They didn't understand that all the lies had to stop. All the lies. Every single one. It hasn't been an easy lesson to learn. I messed up. A lot.

When I read the article, yesterday, so much rage surged back, though with a difference. I didn't try to smooth it over or pretend like it wasn't a big deal. I've stopped lying to myself. In my conversations with others, I check myself to be sure I'm sharing the truth. There are still those in my life that require me to hide who I am from them. They don't want the honest me. They want the me that makes them comfortable, no matter the cost to me. They will lie and say they want to know, but when I've tried to believe them, they've proven again and again and again that they lied. I've stopped lying to myself. I'm not perfect. I will probably have to stay aware all my life. I'm okay with that. There is an unmistakable peace that is mine, every day, because I've stopped lying to myself. It hasn't made my life easier, but it has made it more livable.

The truth will set you free. God never promised life would be easy. He did promise it would be worth it.