True healing made me feel like a fish out of water.
A comfortable coat of denial was what I grew up with; it’s old feelings enveloped me for years.
Stepping away from the comfort of making up stories that I could live with only happened when my life stalled time and time again with dysfunctional relationships and despair. Instead of peeling back the veil to expose the truth so I could grow, I was somehow washed away with the winds of deciet.
Isn’t that what denial really is?
We deceive ourselves into believing a different story.
I remember one day as a child peering into the kitchen where my mother sat on a tall stool, reading a book and slowly stirring a large pot of rice pudding. I said nothing to her, but just intently looked at the back of her. She was a woman I didn’t know. I’d never received her comfort and she didn’t really like me. That much I knew.
After everything she’d done to me? Yeah, she didn’t like me. And, as I’ve said, I didn’t like her much either.
So, that story stayed with me as a I grew, right?
Nope. The exact opposite.
I put the distasteful experiences of my mother far away in the deepest recesses of my mind. I never wanted to feel the misery she brought to my life again. And, I didn’t for almost 50 years.
Was that a good thing? Heaven forbid we should think that denial ever really does anything good for us. As children, we must put things away to survive the daily grind of abuse. As adults, we should seek the truth with everything we have.
And, that ain’t easy!
It is the only way out and through the desolate land of incest and abuse, but it still isn’t easy.
I have lived many years feeling like a fish out of water.
I ran into my older sister’s new webpage the other day. It’s a damn shame. The title should be, I Still Live in Denial.
All my time out of the waters of denial has dried up my scales and I think I’ve now grown legs. That is true evolution.