the truth is a dirty word
really though, I teach my children, “there are no bad words, just grown up words, meaning certain grown up will get upset and possibly react poorly if you use certain words.” I personally enjoy occasionally cursing. Cursing is honest. But the word truth has always embodied a certain hostility for me. Truthfully often precedes monologues that were pure venom and demands of truth were difficult with a biography ripe with necessary omissions.
I think the concept of truth as finite is what I take most issue with my truth, meaning my perspective or understanding of events is often contradictory and so far off base from the observations I hear from others.
Truth as a word, I just find it almost offensive, and I hate using it. “Tell me the truth?” can be deployed when really, you are discrediting what you just heard and asking for a different story. May be I take issue with truth because of who I perceive myself to be, mostly other, as if part of me is inherently untruthful. I have at least 5 different legal names, these were all given to me at various times in my life and I can not combined them or settle on one with out spending money I don’t have nor do I want to ever deny any of those names. My great grandmothers were native american, Cherokee and Blackfoot, I have no documentation to support this claim just the words of my mother and my grandmother who recently passed. I am dyslexic, the documentation to support this claim was either burned in the district fire or taken when Dr. Sage the school psychologist left the district. I am a homeowner, my physical address doesn't show up on many computer systems due to our town not having street delivery and this prohibits me from applying for many jobs.
This is to show I am not being dishonest, I actively try not to lie. I want to be an open book it’s just a lot of my pages have been ripped out and I have an intense fear of being perceived as crazy, since the line between creative and chaotic and psychotic are so very thin and I can’t always trust. I have a hard time trusting my senses my immune system attacks my thyroid and my body is flooded with hormones that can affect my energy level, mood, temperature, this in turn affects my emotions and alters my perceptions. If you ask me, “how are you? whats going on?” I will answer but I can’t promise it’ll be a legitimate truth because I am just spewing out one of a dozen answer all equally valid and constantly evolving. My understanding is fluid and evolving, remember at one point the world was flat, rocks were our grandfathers, we were stardust, we are blood and bone.
I think my hope of faith was forever shaken by Bob Marley’s big toe. At a young age I learned of Bob Marley death and my understanding was he was killed by his own big toe. That is his toe had become mutinous fighting against the body as a whole and his faith kept him from letting doctors remove his toe and this lead to his death. This lead me to have a very deep distrust of both doctors and faith in general. Now I have a butterfly shaped organ in my throat laying siege upon the whole of me. I know not how to invite the butterfly into my heart or stomach as most metaphors would prefer it to be located. this butterfly is playing Blackbeard, a pirate with in me. There is no true path to walk from here. There are pills from the doctors which will still the fluttering till atrophy or cancer sets in and then the whole organ can be removed and I will have to take the pills every day that I take in breath or I can try to heal herbs and light and sound and oils, and faith to heal me. I am doing both. But there is no singular truth, no calculable cause or conclusion, there is the date I was diagnosed but the illness may have been in effect decades before . This disease is like everything else and amalgamation of possibilities both past and future and only the numbers are real and concrete but even they are just a snapshot of a bigger picture. I hunger for answers but i am letting go of hopping for any singular truth.
some of my truths. . . .
the truth is I spray painted my car as a theft deterrent, because it was once stolen from a previous owner
the truth is I spray painted happiness matters on my car cause i have known to many suicides to count
the truth is I feel like two of the suicide are partially my fault, I love those guys just not enough I should have kept in contact like I had promised I would
the truth is I struggle with depression daily
The truth is I have lost too many people to cancer
the truth is I have had cancer cut out of me
the truth is I believe happiness is very important
the truth is I am a bad driver but my car being happy colors helps others slow down and take notice of me and possibly forgive my bad driving
the truth is I did once drive a car through a plate glass window
the truth is I did curse out the pro lifer protester through the passenger window even though the door read love
the truth is I was recently mugged by a man dressed as a monk
the truth is getting mugged gave me the courage to busk numerology and do a pop up gallery
the truth is I am married
the truth is I am still a bisexual
the truth is I feel like my relationship with women were somehow invalidated by said women becoming either men or straight
the truth is I am afraid of my effect on others
the truth is I have two children
the truth is I have been pregnant at least 9 times that i can remember
the truth is I dealt with my miscarriages alone and did not seek medical attention, because i was ashamed
the truth is I welcomed some of my miscarriages because either i or the potential father was not ready to be a parent
the truth is I am an intelligent person who is often literally struck dumb due to internal unintentional chemical imbalances and often can’t think and forget words and the ability to do math and sometimes I even forget how to swallow
the truth is I have seizures
the truth is doctor’s have been unable to confirm my seizures are happening
the truth is I am terrified
the truth is my body is attacking itself, the immune system attacks sees me as the enemy
the truth is the white blood cells are conquering the red blood cells
the truth is my thyroid floods my system with hormones and I don’t know if the depression and elation are genuine or mere symptoms, which makes me scared to feel anything
the truth is I have been called dirty too many times
the truth is I like scalding hot water,
the truth is I used to believe if I scrubbed hard enough and washed really well I would turn pink, like my siblings
the truth is I don’t feel comfortable in my own skin
the truth is I know that I am loved
the truth is I have a very hard time asking for help
the truth is I want desperately to be around people
the truth is I need a lot of alone time
the truth is I make art to be remembered
the truth is art as commerce offends me deeply
the truth is I need to sell some art and buy some groceries
the truth is I am drowning in debt
the truth is i survived spinal surgery and ACDF of the c5&c6 vertebrata, and that helped to reduce the pain greatly, or maybe the maintenance drugs i am on keep me from knowing that the pain persists
the truth is overwhelming . . . and never ending . . and often at odds with itself.
-photo and writing by Nadine May Hall Lewis Bray, I am wife, mother, poet, photographer, artist and I have dyslexia, Hashimoto’s thyroidist, a camera and a hard hat.
