If the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, then I’m an orange. I rolled away.
I don’t like to think of myself as a reflection of my parents in any way. Sure, we’ll have similar features physically and mentally, but I don’t like having that comparison done to me. I don’t want to have to fall in anyone’s footsteps. Especially not those of my parents. They’re both very understandable people with personalities that are generally kind. I can’t say much beyond that. There’es a whole story behind “generally”.
Now this outright denial of my connection to my parents brings myself to ponder the roots of the sentiment. Denial, I mean. Why deny what’s in front of you? Why put up this front of resistance to a natural occurence? When it comes to mourning, why can’t we accept easily what has come to pass? Why do we refuse to believe that the love is gone and why do we refuse to let our hearts heal? This stubbornness, this irrationality confuses me. How can we deny so strongly what is clearly in front of us?
Pyschology is something I ponder about all the time. Reasoning things out, analyzing parts bit by bit. It’s a wonder why I’m not taking the course itself when it’s offered at my school. In poetry, I try to expand my feelings on a certain subject, write convoluted explanations to why a certain thing is happening. Sometimes though, I’m searching for a clear cut answer – and that, that can only come from a rant or discussion like this one.
Why deny at all? The question is simple, but the answer is so mystifying. Some may argue that the truth is too frightening, too difficult to accept at the moment. Then it becomes a matter of acceptance. The fact or the event simply cannot be accepted by the person in denial. We hold on tightly and fragilely to things like love, friendship, and believed truths. When these things disappear, we feel lost. We feel like we’ve lost all sense of direction. We conjure up denial in order to hold on to those things – but those things are still inevitably gone. Holding on only makes it harder to let go in the end.
Humans are strange beings. Acceptance is not easy.
Perhaps denial is some kind of defensive measure against the pain of accepting reality. Some kind of way for us to hold on to what we know to be true, but isn’t. In any case, it’s not healthy. It’s better to admit that you’re hurt, then pretend you’re not and never receive the support you so desperately need. It’s better to accept that someone is gone and is never coming back than hold on to the idea of that person still being there. It’s not healthy to live in the past.
But we’ll do it anyway. We’ll stick ourselves into a moment and cling on for our lives. There will be people who shove the truth at us and call for us to return to reality. And we’ll refuse them. We’ll deny the slice of pie offered to us. Reject what doesn’t fit into our premade speculations. Reject what hurts us – what doesn’t give us happiness. But then we fall. We lose hold of the false reality, lose hold of what we thought was still there. This falsified reality lifts us. Higher and higher. We become afraid of the fall. Will there be someone to catch us? We lose sight of the people who would catch up. We’ve gone too high. The fall hurts. It becomes ten times harder than it would’ve been if we didn’t deny what was in front of us at all. The pent-up frustration, the suppressed pain, it all comes rushing back so much faster.
Humans are stupid. I’ll stand by that fact anyday.