I Can't Deny It

This is harder than I thought. I wanted to make sense of denial as a life strategy. In high school, I read a biographical novel about Sigmund Freud and became seriously interested in psychology. I once struggled through two of the books he wrote--The Psychopathology of Everyday Life and The Interpretation of Dreams. The bio was much more interesting. I eventually gave up the idea of majoring in Psychology (the only thing a Psych major had to look forward to was ten more years of school). But an understanding of defense mechanisms stayed with me (probably as the simplest means of coping with life as I know it). I've spent a fair amount of time analyzing my life and my perspective on the world. When I was 55, I took the Strengths Finder (a self-assessment bestseller at the time that has been redone a couple of times) and it said one of my primary strengths is that I'm analytical. If a problem calls for analysis, I'm your man.

So, here I am, recognizing denial when I see it. But, my denial is better than Freud's, I am making good things out of it. (<-DENIAL). I have rationalized (Oops, there's another one, RATIONALIZATION) my denial, saying I am really making something better out of it (<-see Freud on SUBLIMATION). Maybe I should just explain it and you will see it for what it is (if I could remember my dreams, I'd offer them up as material for interpretation, Dr. Freud).

I read lots about neurosis and defense mechanisms, and it boils down to the ego defending itself from the id, the unconscious source of all our urges. The anxiety produced by acknowledging all those urges is lessened when we just deny the whole thing or blame it on someone else. But don't worry, as a defense mechanism, denial becomes more difficult to maintain as one matures. Its use requires much energy and the mind looks at other possibilities of defense.

You see, I am facing a physical challenge, disease-wise. It seems it will someday become serious, but for now, I am able to deny it (except for a symptom or two that keep popping up). The great thing about denying any limits it places on me is that I can exercise more than I have since I quit running twenty years ago. You see, virtually everyone I talk to about my challenge tells me that exercise is the best thing I can do to postpone the more serious onset of symptoms. So, I tell myself this is really not denial, I am embracing it, right?

But, I bought a book on exercise specifically aimed at people who have what I have, and it only made me think like this--"Oh, that's not going to happen to me, I'm exercising." Sounds like denial to me. But the very fact that I'm denying this is helping me, right. Maybe this is what they meant when they said denial was more difficult to maintain as we mature. what doesn't make sense starts to make sense. Anyway, it's denial and ... I can't deny it.