I’ve seriously got to find a rhythm that keeps me consistently rocking creative productivity. I write everyday but can’t get it posted. This is driving me nuts.
I wake to National Public Radio. To say I live by NPR would be a serious understatement. This morning I listened to I think a writer for the New York Times and I think another publication (perhaps online) about the power of Denial. I think the piece is called “In Defense of Denial”. I am not stopping to look all this up before posting because it will slow me down and likely impede me from publishing- I am choosing to not deny that too many things will pop up infront of me and get in the way of clicking “publish”.
My brief, goal directed thoughts, agree that sometimes denial is the way to go-for awhile.
Denial let me go on as I was, growing in areas that I could, until I decided not to anymore. Denial bought me time to prepare for when I absolutely had to fold and face up to being outed as someone with something seriously wrong with them. I needed to be ready for my world to crash, because it did.
Mental Health often asks the sufferer to suffer even more, and to do so in public. 12-step is the same way. In both cases, I have to put out there what is harming me in front of one or more people. I have to risk being seen as I truly am, to let others see the wounds I bare, to drop my cloking, to turn around and look at them. It’s like being naked in public. Living without denial is a form of nudity.
Now, I am able to do this. At the risk of serious backlash, I share my demographics. I am single, middle-aged, white, educated, employed, a healthcare worker, a parent, and live in a city in the Midwest. I was able to let go of the things that propped me up. Denial got me through a lot of life I wouldn’t have otherwise survived. I understand that it is not possible for every person to give up their denial. It could even be dangerous or disastrous for them and those around them.
For much of my life, I have lived on and off with a certain family member. I’ve taken some grief for not simply going back to that situation to finish school. A co-worker told me that I was strong, that I could have put up with my family member for the year and a half to finish if I really wanted to. Um, no. I wasn’t strong enough. I had reached my tipping point with denial and was already slidding in the opposite direction. Living with them requires maxium denial of Self. I chose not to return to their home because I chose Myself. I was no longer willing to deny my Personhood. I wanted to be an adult woman with an adult life doing the things I needed to do, that were real to me, not maintain things that were unnecessary to a healthy person. I needed to live without unreasonable demands of someone else.
I was not going to deny that every single minute movement on my part was going to have to be fought about with them. I couldn’t deny that I did not possess the energy to go to school, work, do clinicals, commute times three, and fight every single day with this person. I guess I gave up denying exhaustion. My thinking at the time, and even now, is that if I am going to get exhausted, forget it.
Exhaustion takes me down.
Giving up Denial took me down.