How Honest is Too Honest?

In my last post I wrote about how I chickened out of writing a submission for the Donald Miller contest. When I first read of the contest on his blog, I had just finished reading another blog entry from Donald about vulnerability in writing. I pride myself in my honesty and vulnerability and this entry had me feeling challenged to go even deeper into this idea by sharing even more in my writing. Having this blog in which I share pretty openly about what it feels like to struggle with anxiety forces me to be vulnerable. But if I said I didn't care about how many people read it or how people view me after reading a particularly revealing post, I'd be lying. I want to be an honest writer, but I also want to be liked. And I think popularity usually trumps honesty in my life. Here's an excerpt from Donald's post.

"It’s about coming to the typewriter completely vulnerable. And not fake vulnerability...but the real thing, the vulnerability that costs you, that can even shrink your readership. I had lunch with a friend last week that had quit drinking. He’s an artist, a writer, and I asked about his career. He’d just released a new project. He told me he was so busy trying not to drink that he really didn’t care whether or not his art succeeded...The art wasn’t what his life was about anymore, his life was about his life, and he wasn’t polling to see who was interested. He had more important battles to fight, and the writing was just an outlet. So as writers, that’s the place we have to find."

I read it and wanted it to be my battle cry, "Yea, you're right!" When I began this blog and wrote some especially dark posts about days when I didn't want to get out of bed, friends and family and acquaintances all quickly responded to me with support, praise, and appreciation for my honesty. There was no reason for me to fear. It was my honesty that made me worth reading.

However when I left my job I heard through the grapevine about a person or two (or more) who found me to be a very unhealthy person and commented on my job performance. I started panicking that I wouldn't be able to find a new job if a potential employer viewed me as incapable of doing a good job because of anxiety. I took my blog address off of my facebook profile page, stopped talking about the blog, and though I kept posting, basically didn't want any new readers at the risk that word would get out to people I was networking with that I am a sick person. I no longer felt safe to talk about my struggles. Whereas in the past, this earned me favor with others as I was able to comfort them by saying, "I know how you feel," now my discussion on anxiety made me a liability.

Daniel, in his much appreciated wisdom, shared with me that I shouldn't wear my struggle with anxiety as a badge of honor, but rather my triumph over it or victory in the midst of it. He's right. I shouldn't brag about the fact that I feel anxious and "woe is me", look how honest I am about feeling bad. But instead it's the entries where yes I may feel bad but look at the life I am living in spite of it. There's hope and comfort for others in my struggle only when I am actually living, not just complaining about it. One of the other things that my adversaries presumed about me was that I was not seeking help for it. I am indeed seeing a counselor. She tells me hard things that I often don't want to hear. But I believe I'm getting better because of it.

One morning after leaving my counselor's office I met up with a friend for coffee. She was having some difficulty in her relationship and it sounded like they would benefit from some couple's counseling. I shared with her about my struggles and about how me and Daniel go to counseling. She seemed to really benefit from hearing that she is not alone nor the first person to go through difficult relational issues. She asked for my counselor's info and I gave it to her. Afterward I got in my car and read an email on my phone from someone who stumbled across my blog. She was just a stranger wanting to encourage me in the midst of my job search and tell me that I'm not alone in my struggle with anxiety and depression. She told a story of how she had just gone to the doctor herself and was now seeking help. And I was glad that my honesty on a small, but public blog, helped someone feel like they weren't alone. Today I met with a Young Life girl who wanted to tell me that her doctor said she thought she was depressed. She wasn't looking for advice (I don't think). She just wanted to tell somebody who wouldn't call her crazy or think she was weird.

So here I am with conversations like this happening all the time with people who just want to be heard, understood, and told they're not alone. That's what I look for too. But I'm still afraid to go super public with my writing...at least until I have a new job secured that is. I am actively seeking treatment and I am getting better. But I am still terrified that I will be stigmatized because of my struggle. I am terrified that if people know of my struggle, anytime I make a mistake, or procrastinate, or under perform, that they will blame it on me being "sick" rather than just not being good at my job sometimes (just like normal people are viewed).

So I'm still a little stuck. What is the balance in being vulnerable and open, while still being discreet or wise in who I trust this information to? I want to be a safe place for people to turn to in their struggle, but I also want to be viewed as a healthy, responsible, capable, well-respected person as well. I don't have the answer yet or know exactly what this balance looks like. But as long as people continue reaching out to me, I will continue to speak.