Denial: A refusal to acknowledge an unacceptable truth or emotion or to admit it into consciousness.
I linger in what I perceive as a sweet state of being. This toxic sweetness will in turn be my unravelling. I navigate this new territory with wonder, feeling safe and secure like being wrapped in a comfortable doona, amongst soft pillows and a good book. I escape into this world where I no longer have to acknowledge a future where my husband has a disease. I float in this world half paying attention to medical appointments, letting the words wash over me, hearing them as if I’m underwater, barely audible.
I smile and politely respond to people’s kindness, “Todd is fine, he is doing well”. “Yes, that’s right, you can’t notice his symptoms.” “I’m well, thank you.” These lines are well rehearsed, I believe they sound convincing. Do they?
I do not dare open the door leading into this unknown world that is so foreign to me. I do not have a passport for this new place, I do not know the language, I am ill equipped to move throughout this land with confidence, I have had no training.
I resume my life pretending everything is the way it was. I believe all is well. My mind wraps itself into a protective chrysalis, I can stay here, this place is safe.
I become a magician, specialising in escapism, believing I can create illusions for myself and for others. I believe the tricks are successful, I escape with ease, disappearing and reappearing, slipping into different costumes quickly, wearing elaborate masks. I crafted my performance well, or so I thought…
There is a small crack in my cocoon, it gradually gets bigger and wider, I am no longer able to mend it. Harsh light pours in, blinding me. I retreat, not willing to exit. Finally, without warning the cocoon breaks apart, no longer able to hold and protect me. I crash to the ground.
It hurts. The volume is too loud. The smells make me nauseous. The sugar high dissipates, this tempting sweet poison offering no nourishment. I emerge from this state of consciousness confused, betrayed, angry, devastated. I am forced to accept this reality, like an addict facing withdrawals and moving through the exhausting and overwhelming transition stage when giving birth.
When I ponder this phase I experienced, I realise with stark clarity that I lived a half life. I believed the colours were bright, the air sweet and warm. The truth is I was incapable of living in the present, and the present is all we have. I was unable to truly experience the myriad of opportunities that arose, I was disconnected, a little broken.
However, the cocoon I inhabited was necessary, it offered protection during the long Winter, it enveloped me until I out grew its interior. My fall back to Earth was by far the most difficult, little did I know that there embedded within me, was strength. This was hard… but I can do hard things.
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