Secret (noun): Something That Is Kept Or Meant To Be Kept Unknown Or Unseen By Others.

I can keep a secret. 

And then again, I can’t. 

                          Secret (adjective)
                                  “not meant to be known or seen by others”
                                                         - New Oxford American Dictionary
 
I have been told things by others, who specifically asked that I keep this information to myself, and ONLY to myself.  I abide by that wholeheartedly.  Those kind of secrets are important.  Sacred, even.

                         Secret (adjective)
                                  “fond of or good at keeping things about oneself unknown”
                                                         - New Oxford American Dictionary

But I don’t really keep secrets about myself anymore.  

While I only blog about .01% of my life, that is only because no one wants to read a manifesto on what I ate for breakfast and exactly what I thought of Oprah’s last show, which I didn’t watch since I was too busy grocery shopping in the rain.

Otherwise?  I’m an open book.  Because for me, secret-keeping was totally destructive. 

At a recent therapy appointment, we discussed whether and when I need to alert others to the fact that I’m bipolar.  I was expressing some concern about being judged or even shunned by others, should they know when I’m cycling between a manic and depressive stage. 

“You know,” my therapist said, “You are not obligated to tell any one about this.  This is your personal medical information and it doesn’t need to be any one else’s business.”

I understand what she was getting at.  But I think she missed an important point.  I have a very hard time admitting to feeling anything but SUPER-DUPER-GREAT!!!!!!! So I keep what’s bothering me secret.  Ashamed of being sad?  Keep it secret.  Ashamed of being angry?  Keep it secret.  Ashamed of being afraid?  Keep it secret. 

And suffer alone.

So keep your secrets?  Absolutely.  For most people, I suspect, you need a part of your life that is yours and yours alone. 

After all, our life is ours to share or not share with whomever we want.  It is necessary to protect the concept of None-Of-Your-Damn-Business-That’s-Why.  And I totally understand why there are certain things you don’t want certain people to know.  Certain things certain people shouldn’t know. Certain things certain people have no right to know.

Even I maintain some personal, inviolable, secrets about myself.

But I use my blog as a means to being honest about myself instead of hoarding my secrets inside where they fester and rot.

Because sometimes sharing secrets is, at least for me, the right thing to do. 

P.S. I know this post makes it seem like I have some giant secret just waiting to be revealed.  Sorry, but there isn’t.  My life is just as mundane as ever.  It’s only that the idea of secrets has been on my mind ever since that therapy appointment, and I wanted to explore it further. 

P.P.S Fine, I’ll expose a secret about myself.  All this talk about secret-keeping reminds me of the concept of the secret-keeper in the Harry Potter books.  Yes, I’ve read the Harry Potter books.  In fact, I’ve read them all more than once.  Maybe even twice.  I might have even participated in a Yahoo Group for adults wishing to discuss, analyze, and fawn over the Harry Potter books.  When I obsess, I OBSESS.

*Title courtesy of the New Oxford American Dictionary.