I’ve given it a long thought whether I would use my website or not to write about my chronic change of life.
At the end of this long process – it started in 2005 and ended in 2008 – I decided that authentic me was the way to go. Otherwise I should have promised others better times. And they came but slightly different than I ever imagined.
So I sat at the table with my case manager and opened one of my files. Slowly bringing the horror of the past to life. And though I had only a glimpse of my past I realized that getting chronic ill or chronic better is a nasty privacy monster. My case files have gone to so many people that I imagined being a Britney or a Charlie. They just managed to go through this too.
Trust is a remarkable fragile balance between people. Therefore all I could do is give trust; trust the fact he would handle my file with care. Sometimes I feel that my life has an asynchronic state. Things happen in a different order than they should be. Like ratifying an treaty afterwards. I’ve put my signature on many open spaces or forget it or even refused it. Sometimes it felt like signing my own death sentence; unable to rewind the events that followed up on each other.
And I did it again building trust from scratch. Slowly putting my signature under open spaces. Unable to determine how I felt. Chronic better or chronic ill. Or chronic adjusted by The Adjustment Bureau.
So privacy is an continuum. From not workable strict to transparent open. And the latter was best for me. Truth is best preserved in the simple public knowledge. Everybody knows is the best kept secret. Getting help means getting naked, being vulnerable, being exposed. I believe that one of my freelance titles was therefore Nudafe. Naked believe. Because I sensed that in the end our souls are all naked.