Revealing secrets

I've never been the type to reveal secrets but in instances where there might be harm. Okay, there was the one instance that my family never lets me down when I was very young and right before my mom opened her Christmas gift, I blurted out, "it's a blue shirt." But besides that, I don't reveal much. In this way, I've become the "keeper" of secrets, even my own.

Except for yesterday.

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When I decided to head back to therapy this time around, I told C. I really wanted to be as honest with her as possible. It's not that I try to be dishonest in therapy, it's just that I'm too afraid to say some things. I find when I get into these moments, I have to remind myself that I really want C. to know this, because it gives her better insight about me. By not being honest, how can she truly help me?

While it's true that sometimes it takes me a awhile to actually tell her whatever thing it is I am fearing, I do eventually reveal my secret. At my last appointment several weeks ago, I told her one small detail (okay big detail) why I was afraid of going on a medication. As always, she told me she appreciated me telling her and hopes that I can let go of my "safety net."

Yesterday's appointment, something similar happened. It was a gradual building. First, I talked about my blurred lines post, then about the babies post. The latter offered interesting discussion. In some ways, this was up C.'s alley, as women and pregnancies are one of her specializations. I told her how I had not ruled out the option to have children but was worried about passing on eating disorder genes. She understood all this and just said how the best you can do is be aware of it and if you see it, to intervene as quickly as possible.

Then I said, "Sometimes, I think if I had a child, it would...not necessarily make me more recovered but maybe...more normal."
C. replied with a simple "Yes, I think it would." This was a moment of direct eye contact, and it seemed we were both a little teary-eyed for a split second. It was quite a moving scene.

Then, she went on about how your focus is on something else other than yourself, etc. Later, she asked me whether I wanted to just have a child or have a male partner, husband, etc. My reply was I thought having some father, male figure would be nice.

C. asked, "so when are you going to open yourself up enough to have that?"

And then I found myself saying why I was this way.

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PSU

So that's how it all went down. When I walked into yesterday's session, I had not planned on talking about this secret. Most times it is just left in my distant mind, though it still lurks, reminding me of shame once again.

Although I don't regret talking about my deepest, darkest secret with C. which only very few people know, it leaves me scared, panicked, exposed, and vulnerable. Of all my issues, this is the one left virtually untouched. I say virtually, because in the past when I have tried to get past this, I go into a state of panic, feeling frenetic, feeling like I must run, thinking how fat I am, thinking how I don't really need this food. In essence, it leaves me a mess and easily headed down the relapse path.

Therefore, I've neglected it for both intentional and unintentional reasons. Intentionally, I know it opens a can of worms. I know I'd hurt all over again. Unintentionally, being out of mind, made it not seem so real. It made it buried at least in some shallow grave. But really, that grave is so shallow that no amount of dirt would ever really cover it.

I'm not always for rehashing your history or dwelling on the past, but this is a subject that's whittled at me for more than a decade. It's an issue that hinders me from ever having the life I really want, the life I used to dream about. I realize how much I'm missing out on things, because there is an intense fear.

This secret has left me emotionally scarred, and I want to learn to let it go. I want to learn to move on. I want to know that I won't necessarily be hurt again. But most of all, I want to learn to forgive myself. This is where I falter. I may let the secret out, but then, I don't know what to do next except panic, like some scared animal. The panic may eventually subside, but yet again, the remnants of the secret remain and I'm still left with myself.

What do I do? Where do I begin? Where does it end? Someone, please tell me I really do have the strength and ability to get through this, that I need to get through this healthily, because right now, I'm fragile like glass.