i'm taken aback by how personal yet accessible postsecrets are. i have a love/hate relationship with them for that reason; it's like reading my own secrets sometimes, but they've been written and submitted by someone else. it all makes me feel like a naked voyeur. the worst kind.
it doesn't matter how much i remind myself, "those very words, in that order, have slinked through your brain before. you have thought that very thought."
my secret (minus the postcard or any kind of art, for now, sorry):
i am jealous of each anonymous poster, regardless of their secret, for having the initiative i lack to send something in.
a few postsecrets have stopped me in my tracks... (like the one about being terrified of eternity, regardless of the notion of spending it in either hypothetical heaven or hell).
when i saw this...
... i felt a freight train go straight through my chest.
first words to zip-line to my mind: this is me.
then a correction: this was me a year ago. (that one made me feel better, especially when i realized it was true.)
i still have bad days. days when the numbing, pupil-dilating conclusion finds me: i'm using my diagnosis (for lack of a better word and disgust for other words like illness, disorder, etc.) as an excuse for other problems; maybe i have given up... did give up, at one time. then again, i can never tell if that's the self-deprecation talking, or if my instincts are right. makes 'getting better' that much more complicated...
but that heart-to-heart with vanessa made me realize a lot of things... and my heart-to-hearts with megan and gracie always help. that makes me sound broken and needy, but fine. having good friends to fall back on is comforting enough to inspire me to lower a wall or two.
so maybe i'm a coveter of secrets. i'm not proud of it.
but stealing secrets? i don't think that's even possible. that would be like stealing someone's religion.
sharing secrets...? well, we all do. we all do.
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