It is time, Dear Readers, to fess up. Honesty is the guiding intention in my writing here. Not just a Tell-the-truth-when-asked-for-it honesty. The slippery version of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell which I’ve been practicing these days. “I’m doing better,” I say, deciding (Ha! Ha!) that I’m being asked about the Bipolar Disorder, not the Eating Disorder. Nor Dickinson’s “Tell all the Truth, but tell it slant—Success in Circuit lies”:
Q: “How often have you purged this week?”
A: Shrug. “I don’t know,” I say, which is a kind of Truth, because I don’t have some secret spiral notebook where I’m keeping count, but not true because I should say, “Almost every day.”
No, the truth I’m trying to adhere to is forthrightness. No reticence, no dodgy “I’m fines,” but truth even when it hurts or feels shameful. Expose IT to the light and like a cockroach, IT will scurry away to ITs hidey-hole.
Crooked Beauty: a film by Ken Paul Rosenthal. DVDs now available!
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