I have the quite inefficient, but abounding skill of lying to myself. I can make myself believe almost anything, or not believe anything. Sometimes I think this is because I think and overanalyze too much, and speak and vent to others too little. Even so, truth has always been something I searched and longed for. It is a wonderful thing to know the truth and to know for sure that someone is being completely honest with you. This is something that is so important to me: not being lied to. This is why I try to be honest with everyone. It is the least I can do. But yet, if this is so important to me, why do I lie to the person who is closest to me? Myself?
The truth is that I don't respect myself and I don't believe I am enough. I crave the approval of others. I never think I am doing enough. I am incredibly hard on myself, especially when I make a mistake. For some reason I aim for perfection; something unattainable. And when I don't reach it, the wounds from my fall take much longer to heal than I thought they would. Regret is an enemy that comes all too often. It is what keeps the wounds festered. I have heard people say that they do not live with regrets. I do not see this as possible. How can we as humans never regret? I sometimes think I am too dramatic. My life has never been terrible nor glamorous. And yet I make it so. But hey, saying the carpet I walk on is red instead of white and the animal I meet is a lion instead of a house cat isn't stretching the truth..that much. I just wish I could tame that lion.
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