Tell
Posted on 2005-07-28
It's all about telling. It's about letting someone else know what happened to you. It's about trusting another, to let go of a secret that had been hidden for such a long time. It's making the truth known. But whatever for??? What good would it do??? Because what stays hidden within is like a poison that will slowly seep into other aspects of your life. Because what stays hidden is allowed to fester, even corrupt. Because when the truth is hidden in darkness, and no light is allowed to bring attention to it, however briefly, something about ourselves shrinks and slowly disappears.
It's about healing.
One might say, 'isn't she being dramatic???'
But it is dramatic. It is a drama that is played out quietly, affecting our hearts, our minds, and even our bodies. There are no histrionics, no voices shouting across a stage to make themselves heard, no clashing of cymbals or banging of gongs, though there are those as well, to be sure. It is more of a mime performance, where the players are faceless and without voice. It's only you who knows the perpetrator from the victim, for nobody speaks of it.
After having said all that though, it really isn't a performance, is it??? It isn't staged, it isn't meant to be seen by anyone. It's experienced.
If I could see into the future, it would be so much easier. But there is no magic, no crystal ball. There is only a family, like many other families, that experienced not only the good times, but also the pain, resentment and loss. If I did tell, something tells me it would be my eldest cousin who would be the most sympathetic. But still I tell myself, I don't know.....
As a young girl and later, as a teenager, I just lived life, not knowing what the future would hold, what memories would come back to haunt me, what heartache would return to keep me company. And whatever this experience means, whatever it's supposed to illustrate, I suppose I will just have to share it for the sake of sharing. And even though I can't tell my family what I'm feeling, at least it helps to tell my story on these pages.
For now, there are only these words. And if anyone should understand, I suppose my eldest cousin would, for I can imagine him saying these same words, 'So all that writing and isolation.....'. Yes, I think he would understand. The truth would be a little difficult to grasp at first, and maybe time would be needed to allow it all to sink in. But I think he'd understand.
As for myself - one who thinks a lot - I think I need to be certain. And in the absence of certainty, I then choose not to tell.