From House Wife To Film Maker

Con’t from the last post.
As I was saying…

I have a loooooooong history with lying.  Goes back to when I was a kid.  Lying was typically preferred to slaps in the face.  The belt across my legs.  Things like that.  I tried being truthful.  But somehow it just didn’t seem to work as well.  So if I sensed, and I learned to have the razor sharp, keen sense of a lion on the hunt, one of my parents weren’t going to be happy with a truth, I found a lie real quick.  They were happier.  I was happier.  I “wore” less welt marks that’s for sure…Oddly I found I was believed more for my lies than truth.

Then came the day I needed to expand the skill.  Use it strategically.  See when I was a teen I found this guy that made my toes tingle.  We wanted to see each other.

I was 13 he was 19. (I was always very mature for my age, had to grow up quick in my home)
We asked permission.
It was granted.
Things went along super till one day, I think a month and half into it, my step-father decided, game over.  Couldn’t see him anymore.
WHAT!?
“No way, we’ve followed all the rules, he comes to our house a ton…”
He didn’t want to hear it.  “No more…” was the firm and resolute answer.

Well, “No way,” was my resolute answer.  He was the best part of my shit life.  He loved me.  So I took lying to a new level.
I continued on with “Toe Tingler” behind their always very watchful backs…

Got caught once.
The shit hit the fan.  The street.  The neighborhood.  The town.
But I learned.
I learned what not to do.
And never got caught again.
I dated him for years.
The things I got away with right under their nose…That’s some fancy lying.

Then I married.
Not him.  Another guy.
My “ex”.
That’s a loooong story.  (Goes along with my series of posts: Peering Down the Rabbit Hole.  They began here: click here and if you don’t read any other read this: click here.  It’s specifically on the worthlessness I’ve carried and it’s impact.)
This guy, my ex, holds money till it bleeds.
Had to wrangle with him over money all the time.  For basic simple things for the kids, the house… like clothes for instance.
So, viola, whip out the lying/manipulating tool and we’re off to the races.

So.  Four years ago when John1 came up with this “Total Honesty”, let’s call it an “exercise”, so we can create more consciousness, that put me at like 36 years of lying.  What had begun as something that I used for the purpose of survival, had slowly seeped into all areas of my life.   It was littered around in small and big ways.  And a lot of the time I honestly didn’t see or think was even an issue.

So, yeah, this challenge was tough.  Add to it that John can smell a lie like a cat can a rat a mile away.  And well, can’t tell you how many times he hung up on me because I wasn’t holding up my end and being completely honest.  Holding to a shade of a lie like a dog with a bone.  Sometimes consciously, sometimes not.  But god if he didn’t know.  He insisted I see it.  Own it.  I always did.

Eventually…

Yup.
Not good.
Surprised he’s still my friend really.
But that’s what a true friend does.  That is love.  And believe me it is.  If you only knew… I’m a tough nut to crack.  I sort of resemble granite.  But he’s committed to me getting what I say I want.  The same as he wants…  Healing.  To wake up.  To become conscious.

  Happiness.  Peace.  Clarity.  And for me I’ll add: getting a life.  And finding me.  (He did those two for himself, years and years ago, lucky duck)

So back to the show…  Sex Rehab.  Needless to say I watched those people be unbelievably honest, in pursuit of getting their healing.  And that’s the part I admire.  How they just rattled off all their gritty stuff like it was a walk in the park.  I couldn’t help but be moved…

Some say Mozart moved them or a piece of art.  Seeing the Grand Canyon moved others.  Me?  A bunch of serious sex addicts moved me.  Moved me to decide a few serious things in my life.  To really walk out into the middle of the room and get real.  Publicly.  Here in my blog.

That’s what tomorrow is about. . .

Night, love ya,
Theresa Jane
-who’s going to bed and it won’t even be midnight

Tags: conscious, Consciousness, lie, lies, lying

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