WE ARE ALL LYING HERE: Vulnerability and Addiction, pt 2
I wrote my addiction post inspired by my friend's entreaty to all to #tellyourtruth. He had posted on FB last week his own story of addiction, which, while sad, was also beautiful, brave and inspirational. We had talked about his post over the weekend, at lunch, and I told him I was thinking about doing the same, joining the conversation. He said he was going to post again, with the sole purpose of encouraging others to share.
And I still haven't shared. I wrote it here, but no one reads this, so it's safe. My intention had been to link this to my FB, which doesn't have an overwhelming audience, but a few more eyes.
But then I started thinking about it. Yes, I can say, "I believe in being open and vulnerable," because I do. That's not a lie. For the majority of my adult life, even if I weren't acting it out, I still believed it. Vulnerability is good, even if only in theory, not action. Vulnerability is a strength. It's important to be open and honest, even if it is tantamount to putting yourself in the pillory.
And it is tantamount to pillorying yourself, isn't it? Setting yourself apart, putting yourself on blast, if you will, so others can see it, if they care to. It would be nice if people saw you there and were inspired to do the same, to see it as a group growth project, where we all go down together. In order to help build each other back up.
That's not how it usually goes, though. What happens: They can take this information you're willingly giving up to them, and they realize they can use it to hurt you. And most likely they will hurt you. All this information--all the better to judge you with. All the better to invalidate and disconnect you with. I've had people disregard my opinion by saying, "Yeah, but you're a cutter," or "Yeah, but you're crazy. You've been committed."
If being vulnerable is giving those around you ammunition, then doesn't it stand to reason that my wanting to be vulnerable is just another way of feeding my addiction to self-harm? Self-harm but with a "clean conscience." Yes, I gave those people the gun and the bullets, but they pulled the trigger! My hands are clean! I'm the victim here! All the while getting what I want (subconsciously? or now very consciously?), which is personally feeling like a giant bag of shit.
Feeling wounded.
Wounded and sanctimonious.
I do also want to be less guarded and less fake and to, if not remove the stigma of addiction (and vulnerability), then at least keep a conversation about it going. But which do I want more? Can the potential good negate the potential bad? Is it better to put it out there and hope for the best? Even if you know the odds are against the best happening?
How does anyone trust themselves?
And I still haven't shared. I wrote it here, but no one reads this, so it's safe. My intention had been to link this to my FB, which doesn't have an overwhelming audience, but a few more eyes.
But then I started thinking about it. Yes, I can say, "I believe in being open and vulnerable," because I do. That's not a lie. For the majority of my adult life, even if I weren't acting it out, I still believed it. Vulnerability is good, even if only in theory, not action. Vulnerability is a strength. It's important to be open and honest, even if it is tantamount to putting yourself in the pillory.
And it is tantamount to pillorying yourself, isn't it? Setting yourself apart, putting yourself on blast, if you will, so others can see it, if they care to. It would be nice if people saw you there and were inspired to do the same, to see it as a group growth project, where we all go down together. In order to help build each other back up.
That's not how it usually goes, though. What happens: They can take this information you're willingly giving up to them, and they realize they can use it to hurt you. And most likely they will hurt you. All this information--all the better to judge you with. All the better to invalidate and disconnect you with. I've had people disregard my opinion by saying, "Yeah, but you're a cutter," or "Yeah, but you're crazy. You've been committed."
If being vulnerable is giving those around you ammunition, then doesn't it stand to reason that my wanting to be vulnerable is just another way of feeding my addiction to self-harm? Self-harm but with a "clean conscience." Yes, I gave those people the gun and the bullets, but they pulled the trigger! My hands are clean! I'm the victim here! All the while getting what I want (subconsciously? or now very consciously?), which is personally feeling like a giant bag of shit.
Feeling wounded.
Wounded and sanctimonious.
I do also want to be less guarded and less fake and to, if not remove the stigma of addiction (and vulnerability), then at least keep a conversation about it going. But which do I want more? Can the potential good negate the potential bad? Is it better to put it out there and hope for the best? Even if you know the odds are against the best happening?
How does anyone trust themselves?