Coming Out of the Closet

Not Waving But Drowning

Stevie Smith

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Nobody heard him, the dead man,

But still he lay moaning:

I was much further out than you thought

And not waving but drowning.

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Poor chap, he always loved larking

And now he's dead

It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,

They said.

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Oh, no no no, it was too cold always

(Still the dead one lay moaning)

I was much too far out all my life

And not waving but drowning.

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No, I'm not gay, but I've lived most of my life hiding in my own closet, or at least hiding big parts of myself, from the world, from everyone but Chris and my sister. I've shared lots of the "real me" with my best friend, but still I always feel like I'm never living an authentic life, never true to myself, always avoiding people to hide myself. So I'm coming out of the closet so to speak, one little step at a time.
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This is the poem I latched on to at about 12, and it continues to be my favorite poem. As a teenager, I didn't know how to wave, didn't have the words, would rather just drown. There is a lot more to that, a lot that doesn't need to be shared in a blog, and maybe will someday get shared wiith a select few as I continue to venture out in an attempt to make friends. As an adult, I avoid most people, I stay quiet, I put on my "normal" face. As a mother, I'm always trying to be strong for my children, have to be strong for my children, and I do. I honestly do protect them from my own internal struggles and depression, which is one of the few things I'm truly proud of. But still, there are so many days when I'm "not waving but drowning." It's probably partly due to pride - there are plenty of times where I'm not sure where to turn for help, but others when I could "wave" but believe I should be able to take care of everything on my own. This is especially true when I'm overwhelmed with my kids many unique needs. I'm a good mom. I know I'm a good mom, and somehow that leads me to delude myself in to believing that I should never need help. It's also partially due to fear. What would people think if they knew the "real" me, the me that still sometimes struggles with depression and the effects of my past (which I also don't share), the really weird me?
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The older I get the less I care what people think. If they don't like me, they don't like me. I'm an okay person - weird, but good hearted, good intentioned and not un-likable. What is there to lose? I intentionlly haven't made an effort to make friends, because I hate hiding myself and being fake and quite frankly, I suck at it anyway. People mistakenly think I'm authentic because I'm quirky, and the parts of myself that I do share are authentic, but they are just teeny tiny pieces of the real me. Maybe it's time to let the real me hang out, at least a little more than I have, with the people I'd like to get to know and be friends with, and maybe even with others, because what do I have to lose? I'm not all that sensitive these days. I doubt I'd really care if people I don't know rejected me. But there are so many good people out there, so many people I've avoided and haven't given a fair chance. So I'm going to make an effort to dip my toes in to test the water (not just in a silly blog, but in real life) because a couple of new not exactly friends/not exactly acquantiences have tempted me out of hiding. While I treasure my best friend in a way words can't even describe, two women have recently shown me that there are amazing, kind, brave, and interesting people out there that I've been missing out on for a long time. They've shown me that I want more - more friends, more connections, more people to learn from, more from life than just being a mom (although being a mom is great). So my new goal, which is probably a goal that I'm only going to accomplish in baby steps, is to start to "come out of my closet," get to know people, and let them get to know me, in an attempt to expand my world.