Speak My Truth

I’ve been in hiding.

Hiding from my friends and family.

Hiding from my blog.

“I’m too busy to write.” “I don’t have the energy.” “At the end of a brutal day, I just need to zone out.”

All true.

All a load of B.S.

I have plenty of time to write.

Three days ago, I spent thirty minutes lying face down in the carpet on my living room floor.

I could have been writing.

Last night, I watched back to back episodes of “Duck Dynasty” on A&E.

I could have been writing.

I’m not writing because I don’t like what I have to say.

I feel sad, lonely and depressed. I feel lost, confused and hopeless. If I were to fill out one of those depression surveys you sometimes encounter at the doctor’s office, they’d likely keep me overnight for observation.

I can’t stand feeling like this. And  for me, the only thing worse than feeling like this, is other people finding out about it.

So I keep it to myself.*

I fake it out in public and lie to my friends.

I refuse to write.

Three years ago, I trained to be a yoga teacher. Many mantras, life philosophies and spiritual rules to live by emerged from my teacher training. Of these, the most frequently referenced was”speaking your truth.” We talked about it constantly. What it means, what it sounds like, how it feels. The consequences of not doing it. I remember the conversations. Listening to people have epiphanies, reveal themselves, cry. I was present and conscious in the room.

I never connected to the experience.

I thought, “I’m an honest, straightforward person. I rarely hesitate to give my opinion, in some cases, regardless of whether I’ve been asked for it. Speaking my truth? yeah. I got that.”

But in the last three years I’ve considered the ways and circumstances in which I don’t speak my truth.

Hiding from my blog is a big one.

When I judge my truth, I don’t speak it. When my truth conflicts with the standards I’ve created for how I should look, act, and think, I don’t speak it. When I convince myself that other people don’t want to hear my truth, I don’t speak it.

When I feel less than myself, I go into hiding.

Right now, I want to stop writing.

Truth: Throughout law school I was pretty arrogant. I celebrated, sometimes gloated, about how easy it is was for me. When I thought about studying for the California Bar Exam I figured I’d have a similar experience. What feels torturous and overwhelming for most people will feel completely manageable for me.

Truth: I was wrong.

Truth: I’m struggling to be patient, kind, compassionate and human in this process. I feel disconnected, angry and unhappy.

Truth: I pride myself on being a well adjusted person. I’ve had a daily yoga practice for six years. I meditate. I write in a gratitude journal. I read self-help books and spiritual blogs. In my imagination, I have an arsenal of coping skills.

Truth: I cried all day today.

Truth: I want to erase everything above this line and share a light-hearted story about using the voice activation feature in my new car.

Truth: I’m going to publish this anyway.

*special shout-out to my mom, to whom I always speak my truth, from whom I can never hide, and who is constantly peeling my pathetic, tired ass off the pavement, dusting me off, and helping me get on my way. She never gets credit, or gratitude, or recognition, but I love her deeply for seeing me and supporting me, no matter what.

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