Every time someone asks me how I am at the moment, I am lying.
I tell them that everything is good.
I repeat lies I was indoctrinated in childhood to tell. No matter what “family is family, and you don’t wash family’s dirty linen in public.”
I have lied for so long and so hard it has become a habit that is difficult to break.
Right now, I am not okay. I am in a painful place. I remember the vehemence with which I kept telling myself that I had a good childhood…and I wonder if my sub conscious was not poking at me and saying “Perhaps, you do protest too much.”
I live a lie hidden behind the curtain, keeping silent about the years of abuse. I recognize now the amount of gaslighting that took place, that my mother tried to convince me I was crazy.
I recognize that I am not crazy, but I am not brave enough to confront the reality…to live openly with my whole history yet.
So I will keep lying to the world and resenting myself for it.