I’ve got a secret, a big one. One that you don’t tell most people, you wouldn’t tell your best friend at camp this secret, no. You would tell your very best friend, the one you’ve been through the most with and have been friends with for years. This secret, the one that I keep so hidden from the rest of the world, it tears me apart. I can’t tell anyone this secret, every time I take a step, something breaks. Every time I’m ready to clean all the craziness out of my life, and get this secret off my chest, I step in something, and it gets everywhere, there is no safe place.
Even when I think I can get out of it for a few days, the stench follows me. I can’t breathe around the odor, but yet it clings to me with all of its might. It attaches itself to my cloths, my shoes, my bags and if I’m having a really bad day, even a blanket. I smell it on the bus, at church, and even at a friend’s house, it stinks and even though others can’t smell any of it, I can. Yet nobody understands why I can’t even stand to be in the room, sometimes. The worst thing is that I can’t help them understand because I can’t tell them… I can’t tell just anyone this secret that clings onto me.
I confess, I’m terrified to tell them this secret mostly because of what may happen next. I’m usually scared that they would judge me for what happens on a day to day basis, but surprisingly they never look at me any differently, but that’s not the biggest fear… the fear of possibly loosing everything if it slips to the wrong people. That’s the scary part of this secret, it can tear my life apart, and even more than it already is. It could make me truly lose my friends, my education, my family, and my gymnastics. So constantly I have to carefully decide who to tell.
When I do tell a friend, they usually ask how things are going on a two week scale, immediately memories of a horrible night flash into my head just as I’m about to answer them. I think it through, and though I’ve already told them once, I can’t get myself to say it again. Once was a big enough risk, and although they could have saved my life, been my best friend since I was born or even been a family member I can’t admit it a second time to anybody, so I never give a straight answer.
When I don’t give a straight answer some are smart enough to figure it out. They ask why things are back to the way they were but they don’t understand even after they know. They don’t understand that this secret is overbearing, and it’s not something that I can just get rid of. One’s reaction may be that it is something that is easy to fix, but this secret clutters my life, it takes time to fix, time I don’t have. The process of getting rid of this secret would take days and a ton of money to get me out of this hole. Boxes would need to be packed full of memories and stowed away to where nobody can get to them, and if someone were to find them, things would just explode all over again, but in a different time and place.
One thing I know between this secret, and all the others that I hide, is that I will make sure this one won’t happen ever again. Later in life when I am married and have kids I will make sure nothing ever gets this bad. I will make sure my kids have a solid place to stand and not a place that endangers them to trip with every step they take. I will make sure that history will never repeat itself that no matter what happens things will never have a stench this bad. That nothing has a chance to accumulate dust or to mold over. I will start from scratch, forget the terrifying past and make sure I never have to relive it because this secret is a mess, a big one that I just can’t clean up.
Even when I think I can get out of it for a few days, the stench follows me. I can’t breathe around the odor, but yet it clings to me with all of its might. It attaches itself to my cloths, my shoes, my bags and if I’m having a really bad day, even a blanket. I smell it on the bus, at church, and even at a friend’s house, it stinks and even though others can’t smell any of it, I can. Yet nobody understands why I can’t even stand to be in the room, sometimes. The worst thing is that I can’t help them understand because I can’t tell them… I can’t tell just anyone this secret that clings onto me.
I confess, I’m terrified to tell them this secret mostly because of what may happen next. I’m usually scared that they would judge me for what happens on a day to day basis, but surprisingly they never look at me any differently, but that’s not the biggest fear… the fear of possibly loosing everything if it slips to the wrong people. That’s the scary part of this secret, it can tear my life apart, and even more than it already is. It could make me truly lose my friends, my education, my family, and my gymnastics. So constantly I have to carefully decide who to tell.
When I do tell a friend, they usually ask how things are going on a two week scale, immediately memories of a horrible night flash into my head just as I’m about to answer them. I think it through, and though I’ve already told them once, I can’t get myself to say it again. Once was a big enough risk, and although they could have saved my life, been my best friend since I was born or even been a family member I can’t admit it a second time to anybody, so I never give a straight answer.
When I don’t give a straight answer some are smart enough to figure it out. They ask why things are back to the way they were but they don’t understand even after they know. They don’t understand that this secret is overbearing, and it’s not something that I can just get rid of. One’s reaction may be that it is something that is easy to fix, but this secret clutters my life, it takes time to fix, time I don’t have. The process of getting rid of this secret would take days and a ton of money to get me out of this hole. Boxes would need to be packed full of memories and stowed away to where nobody can get to them, and if someone were to find them, things would just explode all over again, but in a different time and place.
One thing I know between this secret, and all the others that I hide, is that I will make sure this one won’t happen ever again. Later in life when I am married and have kids I will make sure nothing ever gets this bad. I will make sure my kids have a solid place to stand and not a place that endangers them to trip with every step they take. I will make sure that history will never repeat itself that no matter what happens things will never have a stench this bad. That nothing has a chance to accumulate dust or to mold over. I will start from scratch, forget the terrifying past and make sure I never have to relive it because this secret is a mess, a big one that I just can’t clean up.
Written: October 6,2011
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