The best policy
“Boundaries don't keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy...that's how we're made. So, you can waste your life drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them.” – Ellen Pompeo
As a child I lied a lot and as I grew into adolescence Peg would lament on my pathological state and continuously banish me to my room. Over the years, I’ve gotten considerably better with the lying about stupid shit. Did I use your AmEx without asking? Yup. Did I eat the last cupcake? Hell yeah…and so forth.
Now it’s only the bigger things that I purposely lie about, but I suppose they’re not all lies, but rather things that I don’t want to share out of fear that I’ll be chastised. And let’s be honest, it’s not like it’s some great fantastic shit that I keep to myself…well…save for that one time with the substance and customs…(Spanish jail cells are none to pleasant).
I was speaking with a friend of mine the other day about different therapy options given that my former therapist is (A) too expensive and (B) clear across the city, in a land far off and away. This friend disclosed her apprehensive of ever mentioning it and I questioned why. In my drunken, slurred speech, I explained and rationalized to her that every fucking person and their mother gets depressed but since for any depressed person, realizing this about his or herself is a painful and arduous process, it makes it all the more difficult to disclose this to a close friend or family member, without feeling like you’ve done something wrong or be excommunicated for it.
So I guess the goal here is to divulge more…to take down the boundaries and get to this. Less hyperbole, more reality. Less Malbec, more Grey Goose.