Midnight Crayon

[Teresa]

The heaviest truths are nocturnal, a rising voice when our defenses are down; I've fought this voice a thousand times because I feared it asked for too much. I once pretended the voice was an irrational barrage of What if... questions, fanged neurotic riddles that loved torturing my happiness, but its truth was full of answers and urgent appeals for me to be honest with the truth -- Tell the truth... It tried to love me, but I ignored it as I would graffiti scribbled in crayon, afraid to tell the truth because he, she, they might leave me. It was easier in daylight to pretend the truth wasn't there, the voice that said I didn't really want to have another baby at 40, another baby for him...not another baby...and then another baby...another million years spent underground; I hushed the constant plea, Tell him no. The voice slept by day but talked in its sleep, projected her dreams, silent movies screaming, so I looked away, made lots of noise, kept my hands busy -- busy giving what he wanted... The voice is rising again, injured this time, hoarse like a lover left behind; it wants to know why I left me.

[Gita]

Nineteen hours ago I was exhausted, and this day took our family on a journey to a surgical ICU in another city. But now, back home and rested, I want to give your piece the attention I could not the first time.
I think that speaking truth -- to a spouse or partner -- is exquisitely liberating but fraught with dangers, too. What if the "other" has a map for his/her life that you cannot or must not follow? What if your inner compass directs you to a whole different true north? Do you utter the truth that could rend the relationship?
But: No matter how thoughtfully I approach these questions, I feel unmoored and unprepared to write about them in a brief, public fashion. You do it so much better than I ever could. I risk sounding -- what did Grey call it -- like a rant.

[Mike Handley]

What Bonnie said.

[Cita]

I am a late bloomer, and I came into true real matching love after I had already raised my kids, already given my "all" to a very nice man. One of the things my love and I promised is "truth." Above all, tell the truth. Don't wait until a better time... there will never be a better time. I applaud this piece for its very raw way of revealing that sometimes we keep moving foward, dancing, we shut up, shut down rather than tell the truth. Excellent exploration of a hard subject.

[Teresa]

Thanks all ~ This came about from reading the beginning of Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love (which I avoided for as long as I could). She cried in her bathroom at night for forty-something days, violently opposed to having a baby (while trying with her husband of 8 yrs) and painfully recognizing other parts of her life -- some coveted -- which seriously didn't fit. I'd never met anyone else in this situation. Of course, no two stories are identical -- I did continue trying and have two beautiful babies cough, smile which means I have to tread softly on or swallow resentment, and while more children wasn't on my "to do" list, they have in many ways "saved" my life. No crying now -- shut up and dance. True, true. But, my struggle with the decision and giving in despite giant reservations was a first (on that scale) so I wanted to explore it. Sheryl Louise Moller is quoted in the front of Gilbert's book: Tell the truth, tell the truth, tell the truth. Words like a chisel.

[Angela]

You are an unusually open person, Teresa, but this takes it all to a new level. I love the streaming of thoughts you wrote, moving us through your head, not just on paper, but in our heads, too. Family life can be psychologically deadening, and that truth is unfair (like most truth). You have stated the truth so clearly here, through internal dialogue, not through a rant - which would have been so much easier to do. Fine piece of writing that dealt well with difficult content. When I am underground and look up, the sky is the size of a quarter - but I know in my heart it is bigger than that, because it is the sky, and it will wait for me until I climb out.

[Bonnie]

Teresa~ You write about my own thoughts and actions here. The voice/intuition I heard but silenced while moving through places I should not have been - because I didn't listen. For me, this is about silencing ourselves, deeply, destructively. We must be in control of our lives, and many times, we give that control away, to our detriment. It does not have to be so.....and I hope you will listen to your voice..it is so important.

[Michael Brown]

Super writing. Absolutely super. I have tons of reading to do, work, here, and elsewhere, so I'm off to bed, but I feel certain I'm going to here a voice, and fairly certain it's going to be yours.

[Jeanette Cheezum]

These truths lie very deep for some. Great 6. Also, I relly like your new picture.

[Gita]

I can't right now address the various issues you raise except for one, which is birthing babies you don't want to have. It is my bedrock belief that women should have the final say about reproduction. So, if I had a voice that kept me awake at night, I would listen to it.

[Michelle Davis]

I think for givers, as you undoubtedly are, that question always finds us. Giving so much of self we forget who self is sometimes. I enjoy reading your writing so much. In many ways I find it cathardic because you write the thing I am to afraid to write myself. This one, however, may be my favorite yet. Superb 6!!!!