We all have one, a piece of us that stays hidden deep inside. A small little piece that fills up but no matter what, stays hidden, and tight, and buried deep inside.
It can be beaten, threatened, tortured, but no matter what it will never give in. Some may call it the unspeakable bellhop. No matter what, he will never tell his deep dark secrets. Some may call it the unspeakable baker. No matter what his recipes are his and only his to know. Or some may call her the unspeakable speaker. This one is rare, I suppose. This one is mine.
As you all know, I love to write, especially about me. And if you've read my blog, or maybe you are a friend of mine on Facebook, Google+, Twitter, or even a friend or family member in real life, you might think you know all there is to know about me. Think again, my husband doesn't even know all of me...and he knows the most.
There is a part of me that longs to scream out to the world, but I don't let it. I call myself an open book, but lets face it, no one is an open book. We all have deep dark secrets that we would never let the world know. We all have things we are afraid to open up about for fear of ridicule, or even worse, for fear of those we love using them against us.
I have always been extremely independent. I find it very, very difficult to depend on others. "If it needs to get done, it's best if I do it myself", has always been my motto. People will let you down, but what's worse is, we must all carry our own weight. I have always believed this (see again my motto). I don't know how many different ways I can say the same thing. I don't like having to rely on others for things I can, and should, do myself.
This fierce independence has proven to cause me a great deal of pain and suffering lately. It all started about...oh, I don't know...a few years ago. My husband and I had to go down to one car between the two of us. What this really means is that I have no car at all because my husband, being a typical man, insists on driving 100% of the time, leaving me with zero transportation...unless he is there to drive me (or I find a friend to give me a ride).
I have never gotten used to the no transportation conundrum. But now I have another problem to deal with. I had open heart surgery back in October and as a result I am on very strict restrictions while I heal. This means yet more of my independence is stripped away. I am like a naked baby lying on the floor unable to clothe myself whilst all the world watches and takes pictures of my little pee-pee.
What does this little story about my loss of independence have to do with the unspeakable speaker? Everything! One of my deep dark hiddens has been ripped out of me and displayed for all to poke and prod and use against me.
Don't worry, though, I have plenty more hidden in the endless well of the unspeakable speaker.
Is there a lesson to be learned here? Hmmm, maybe. Even though one of my deep dark fears came true, I am still here, still alive, still strong (although I don't feel as strong).