"I would be lying if I didn't tell you the truth..."

I have this weird verbal tic (that annoys me) of using the phrase, "to be honest..." or "honestly..." a lot. The reason why it annoys me (unlike, say, my habit of saying "Anyway..." or "Awesome!") is that it makes me sound like I am not being honest when I don't say it. (Maybe this is why I say it more... eep!) Honesty is important to me, I don't like to trivialize it!
In college, I knew this person who had an extreme habit of repeating the phrase, "Can I just say?" and oh. my. goodness. It was truly funny. Especially when he was drunk. Every other sentence. Wow.

I don't think my use of "honestly..." is quite to that level, but it's something I've been working on for awhile, to try to curb my use of that phrase. (Since I have almost completely eradicated the use of the word "should" in my life, I know it can be done. OK, I still "should all over myself" but since I started really paying attention, it has dropped radically away from my vocabulary).

Anyway... the reason for this mini rant (and the title) is this: I've had the title line ("I would be lying if I didn't tell you the truth...' from "Le Ballet D'or" by Counting Crows) and actually, most of the song, stuck in my head for almost a week now, since I last listened to the album. Great song (one of my favorites off the album "Saturday Nights/ Sunday Mornings") but sheesh! Let's be honest (hahahaha!), what is it telling me that I don't already know? There is no point in regret. I know this. I am where I am today because of my past. Every detail of my past, from the great things, to the horrendous ones. And yet, and yet...

February is a hard month for me. Always has been. Between getting bronchitis a lot, the cold dark days, memories of the robbery attempt (in 1996) where I was held hostage and now the anniversary of my miscarriage last year, oy. It's just a difficult motherfucking month.

But the other song I've had stuck in my head (this whole time) is Florence + The Machine's "Dog Days are Over": "you can't carry it with you if you want to survive." And that, my friends, is the goddamn, honest, truth.

Let it go. Release it. Shit happened. Shit is remembered. But you can't carry it with you all your days, not every moment. Not if you want to survive. Not if you plan to thrive. Lay it down.

Spring is coming. Oh, let it come. Yes, let it come.