Tell it over and over like repeating a word until it becomes meaningless. Pick it apart. Read between the lines. Seek the real truth underneath.
After a while, you hear yourself talking, just your voice jabbering on, and you think, “Oh, I’m telling that one again,” and maybe roll your eyes a little bit. That’s when you realize your story’s not entirely true, not even totally necessary. It’s just a silly paper mask, and everyone can see you’re wearing it. No one really believes it. Might as well take it off.
You have to listen to yourself, of course. You have to cultivate some self-awareness. You have to be watching when it starts to dissolve.
Or not. Doesn’t matter. Before you know what’s happened, the story has dissipated into what it really is — just a bunch of words. Just a bunch of arbitrary sounds.