You Can't Handle the Truth
For the past few weeks or so, I've been struggling to figure out the reason for the anger and pain I felt over some hurtful words spoken by a “friend.” Such pain and anger that I ended the friendship with the diabolical speed and precision of a guillotine. But, damn it all, God gave me a brain and a heart and a soul, all those of a poet and that results in thinking. Or is that over thinking? At any rate, I managed to figure it out.
Truth can be an ugly thing. And truth we don't want to accept...well, we tend to ignore. Everyone has that overweight friend who no one would dream of calling a fat cow or the drinker who goes too far. Why call them a drunk, when they already know the ugly truth but keep it neatly tucked away? Only in the most caring and kind way does one approach deeply personal truths.
I was told the truth. Albeit in a mean and spiteful way, I cannot deny that the truth was spoken. A truth I keep locked in the deepest darkest recesses of my soul. I am a true exercise in denial. Yeah, I had a brain tumor and cancer and brain surgery and now I am physically disabled with a pronounced limp and paralyzed left arm. I know all of that but I'll be damned if I want to accept it. I have to.
I like sleeping. I love floating on my back in the pool. I like settling in for a good ball game or a movie. Why? Because I can feel somewhat normal. I can ignore my ugly truth and pretend it doesn't exist.
When those hurtful words were spoken, my truth was exposed and shoved in my face. I'm not going to lie, it hurt but it was a lesson I needed to learn to make me a better person. I learned that using people's ugly personal truths as a weapon is about as hurtful as you can get. I'm guilty of doing the same. That stops now.
