I got the newest Post Secret book for my birthday a few months back. I skimmed it then, but I finally had a chance to sit and really read through it recently. There I sat, in my swing, snuggled in with a pillow and a blanket. Cradling my Post Secret book. Knowing that I'm gonna be diving into a hole, by choice, and I don't know what will be when I climb out.
This book, in particular, struck me on a very deep level. It's my third Post Secret book, and I look forward to Sunday Secrets every week, but still. In reading this book, I realized something that I think I've known for a while, but never acknowledged to be true.
Reading this book, I realized that some of my darkest deepest secrets have been shared by others. Flipping through the pages, I saw at least three secrets that I was too afraid to send. Two of the three have never been spoken of outside my treatment team's offices. The third secret still resides solely in my head.
And apparently, they all reside in the minds of others, too.
Does this make me feel any better? I don't know. Not really, I think.
It does make me feel less alone, knowing others are struggling with my
struggles, too. But it doesn't make me feel better. Cause no one else
should have to deal with my struggles, these in particular, and I
wouldn't wish them upon anyone.
But clearly, others are inflicted, too.
And while occasionally, it helps to hear examples of what others have done in similar spots, usually, when someone on my team provides an example such as "you need to remember that you're not the only person in the world dealing with this?" That? That is not helpful.
See, I'm an overachiever when it comes to constantly comparing myself to others. I'm masterful at using others checklists to "score" myself. I like knowing that sometimes, when my dietitian has a ridiculous schedule, she will fit in a workout anyway, though it may only be 20 minutes, because it's better than nothing. That tip has kept me exercising on days when I was too busy to, knowing that if she is good with the concessional 20 minute workout instead of the full on hour, then I can be too.
So why do I still struggle with the idea of knowing that others suffer
from the same issues I do? Why do I cry when I see my secret on Post Secret, or in one of the books, though I never sent it in? Why can't I
find comfort in knowing that I'm not alone in my struggles? While I
might never know the answers to these questions, I'm ok with that. I
will continue reading Sunday Secrets, and continue reading the Post Secret books, and continue crying when I read one of my secrets in
someone else's handwriting. Maybe one day, I'll take comfort in those