Lying to Myself

I remember sitting in an extremely uncomfortable wooden rocking chair in a hospital labor suite looking at the red numbers on the monitor go up, up, up and slowly back down.

This was during the birth of child #3. I knew by this time, with two other experiences behind me, that it wouldn't last forever and that I could totally do it...all of it. It was going to be okay, but this already attained knowledge left room for knew information to be added to my arsenal of going-through-labor weapons. I had room to add to what I had come to know from the past.

As the numbers would rise, I would tell myself that it didn't hurt and that it would be over soon. I had to convince my brain of these two things. It was kind of like running uphill and training your mind to believe that the hill was going down. I did that a lot back in the days when I used to force myself into believing that I loved running. Sometimes you just downright lie to yourself.

And I guess that is exactly what this post is about--lying to yourself; making yourself believe things that just aren't true...until they become true.

I've been thinking a lot about the hardest things I've done in my life. There haven't been many, but there have been some. I now realize, looking back, that in order to get myself through them, I've had to tell myself lies. I've had to fib my way through them. I had to tell myself how happy I was doing them and what a blessing these things were in my life already--even though the actual blessings wouldn't come until they were over. If I didn't lie, I would never have seen those blessings come to pass. I would have quit long before.

I've, to be really honest, not been very happy lately. It's all based on a single incident of the past and trust that was broken. Oh, and forgiveness. That's a big part of this whole thing. I've prayed to get past this. I've begged and pleaded for help to let go of it and move on, but it just keeps coming back. I'm not able to let it go yet, I guess, which is really rough.  It comes down to a question of will I ever trust again. If I don't, will I ever be happy again? If I do, will my trust be broken again, and will I, thus, feel stupid for having trusted?

It's good to be putting this in words that I can view as opposed to feelings that lie inside me and just mush and gush around in there. As I view what I just wrote, I see that I have to forgive and trust. I really have no other choice if I ever really want to be truly happy again. I am only accountable for what I do. Forgiveness and trust are virtuous choices--the only options in this scenario.

Many times I have stated that I cannot make choices for others, but I also understand from that statement, that I, thankfully, won't have to suffer the consequences other people will either. Yes, their consequences may, in some way or other, touch my life and influence what happens to me, but in the long run, as long as I'm making the best choices I know how, I will be safe. Right? Again, here we run into trust.

Life just is what it is, huh? You never know what the next day will hold. It's all in how you face it and how you deal with what is dealt you. These things determine who you become, your stamina and strength. In any given situation, I can choose to run away and leave the hurtful things behind, but isn't it better to stay, face it and become stronger from it? I think I've decided that I'm a fighter, not a runner.

All I know is that I want to be happy--truly, downright, to the core happy. I feel that in order to do so, I have to train my brain to run uphill while telling myself I'm going down. I have to watch the red numbers rise and tell myself it doesn't hurt. I have to tell myself that I love this person who's wronged me even when I'm hurt and tell myself to trust even when that's the hardest thing to do. Most of all, I have to learn to forgive.

To be honest, I have to lie.