Chapter Four...Exposed

“A human being is a part of the whole called by us the universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Nobody is able to achieve this completely, but the striving for such achievement is itself a part of the liberation, and a foundation for inner security.”
~Albert Einstein writing to Norman Salit on March 4, 1950



Finally, you break down, you're diagnosed, you get the help you need because you don't want to jump off that proverbial cliff just yet. But now the real fear surfaces...the truth and how will your family deal with it. Does the truth really set you free or does it create more complications, and now that the truth is out there in front of God and everyone you love, will you feel you are being judged all over again? Probably, it's human nature.

No one likes to be exposed when you have found a smashing good hiding place. Do you remember playing hide-n-seek as a child? You found the absolute perfect place to hide from your friends and it was so good you'd rather pee your pants than to give up your location. Everyone gives up trying to find you and goes about playing while you're still hidden. You come out of hiding to everyone's surprise, but no matter how hard they taunt you or tickle you, you won't give up where you were.

Your mind is a hiding place, little closets locked with an array of different keys. Sometimes the doors can be opened easily, while others won't budge and remain covered with dust and cobwebs. Some minds are strong and never have to look for a way in. Those minds found resolve in one form or another, whether it was through forgiveness or being forgiven. Some find the key and willingly open the door ready to embrace what was hidden away. Others have their hand on the doorknob for many years wanting to force it open but cannot face the unapproachable. This was me.

First thing comes to mind is, I'll get it out into the open and then deal with the consequences of my actions. Then you do it. So, it's out in the open that's the first step, now what? Then, do you shout it to the world, or do you confide in one person you know you can trust? I told someone, someone I cared very much for (my trigger) and was reduced to being a scared teenager once again. That was three years ago. It was too late to turn back. Up until then, two friends of mine briefly knew, and an ex-in-law whom I could trust. Back then, you didn't press charges. In fact, you covered it up and hope it eventually goes away. Living in a small town, everyone one knows everyone else's business, (remember Peyton Place?) and the repercussions of telling could be worse.

I took a couple days off school, if I took anymore than that I would have to explain to my parents why the stomach ache wouldn't go away. I avoided eye contact with anyone, terrified they would see into my fragile battered condition. Soon as I came home from school, mom always had dinner ready, I reluctantly shared my day at the table, I helped clean the kitchen, did my homework, and went to bed. Soon, I gave up wanting an education and any dreams for the future. I gave up on me. I became one of those girls every girl whispers about behind your back, and the one every boy wants to go out with. I became an outcast amongst my peers and begun to seek out other “damaged” individuals who I could relate to, and believe me there were plenty of them. I finally found acceptance I needed and fit in somewhere. I skipped school to be anywhere else than there, and was back by the second ring of the last bell. My all A's and B's record became a thing of my past, and I was certain my fourth grade teacher, Sister Mary Gordon would suggest the convent wasn't for me anymore. My dream of being a teacher collapsed along with everything else.

Right now, I am going to stop and ask you some questions. Think of one “bad” girl you went to school with. Try to envision what she looked like, was she plain or pretty? Was her hair long or was it short? Was she shy or outgoing? Who were some of her friends and was she judged by them? Why do you think the “in” crowd put her down? Was she really “loose” or was it because of a cruel rumor started in the boys room? Did she become that kind of girl because of false accusations? Do you ever remember seeing her at Homecoming or the prom? Did you ever smile at her or did you look the other way? Did you feel dirty being anywhere near her? I believe your plate is now full and I'm curious how you will digest it. Share your answers, you can do it anonymously. It's clear, far more than anyone would care to admit, petty judgments are harmful. It's all pervading and supremely powerful.