In theory this is what I want. Complete honesty, being able to stand there, completely (not literally of course, I’m 42 years old and slightly prudish) naked and just state what I feel or am or think or have done and so forth. To show vulnerability and admit how insecure I am or why I did a mistake and try to explain why. You know how it goes. So again, in theory? I am like a super-psyched cheerleader spelling out H O N E S T Y with my body. In reality? Weeeeell. I haven’t been able to concentrate properly the last two weeks. Almost all of my brain power is focused on sobriety (I tried to moderate, I really did.) and very little has been left to do my actual, paying job. This Friday I had a deadline. I have never missed a deadline before, ever. This one I did miss, and I did it magnificently by disappearing and not answering e-mails and having trouble breathing etcetera. Practicing one of my personal favourite coping mechanisms: avoidance. Not very honest, right?
Today I called them and told them I need two more weeks to be able to finish this in a somewhat competent way and BLEURGH. That sound they made on the phone. The double oh’s. First the surprised oh quickly followed by the very disappointed and troubled oh. That was just as awful as I feared it to be. But I survived. No children or legs were broken and the world still seems to exist outside my window. And now they know so I don’t have to be so awfully vague in my e-mails about progress which is such a relief because I really am the worst liar. I feel awful when I have to do it. In stead I have to work hard, both during the day and also in the evenings. I can do this.
So maybe I’m not being as honest as I wish I was but today at least I tried. And now it feels so much better. Maybe I’ll spell out the T and the Y with my body and get to work on the rest.
Now I’ll sing-a-long to this way too loud at least four times in a row before picking up my children.