You’ve come into possession of one vial of truth serum. Who would you give it to (with the person’s consent, of course) — and what questions would you ask?
Truth is dangerous.
Each of us creates the story of our life, one day at a time.
We experience, react and then process, often within seconds. We do this all the time, usually without even being aware of it. A car merges in a little too close, resulting in the need to use the brakes. “That driver almost caused an accident” we think. “What a maniac”. The experience has now been turned into a story that can be told later.
What would happen to our big moments if there was absolute candor, complete honesty, no overlay of reaction to the action?
I’ve been through trauma and experienced the worst I ever thought would happen. Peace and acceptance came only when I could put those experiences into a story that I could repeat, even if only to myself. A story that answered questions, provided closure, made sense of what had seemed senseless. Would a truth serum be of any value? Would it be like the scalpel of a skilled surgeon, carefully excising diseased tissues while saving the rest, or would it be more like an IED, planted ahead of time, blowing up with no warning and indiscriminately destroying everything it touches? I hope the former, but fear the latter.
So, in summation, I gracefully decline the offer. Like Jack says, I just can’t handle it.