DENIAL

BY JESAM IBIANG

Life often presents us with circumstances that challenge our core, moments where the ground beneath us seems to crumble. It is in these instances of profound hurt, overwhelming challenge, or urgent need for help that we frequently encounter denial. Denial is not merely ignoring a problem; it’s a profound, internal choice to cling to “what is not,” even when we know, deep down, the stark reality of “what is.” The truth is, there is no shame in acknowledging vulnerability or fear. Denial is a form of fear and it is often difficult to acknowledge fear. Denial, blurs the truth, offering a distorted lens through which to view our circumstances.

I am not saying that denial is altogether a terrible thing. Denial is not inherently malicious. It serves a primal, protective function. Imagine the immediate aftermath of a sharp cut—a knife or a machete. For a few crucial seconds, there’s a numbness, a strange void before your brain registers the trauma and sends in the searing pain. That brief, merciful moment of nothingness is the essence of denial. It’s a temporary buffer, a natural, albeit fleeting, shield that can prevent immediate shock from completely overwhelming us. It allows a breath before the plunge, a moment of unreality before reality sets in.

But like any escape, denial carries a hidden cost, particularly when we linger too long within its deceptive comfort. As Chimamanda astutely observed about excessive social media, it’s like indulging in a too rich, too sweet, too moist cake, too everything cake. At first, it feels good when you’re stuffing yourself, however after a while, you don’t feel too good. Denial, too, can be a delightful indulgence that helps us avoid the bitter taste of vulnerability, the sharp edges of pain, or the confrontation of an unwelcome truth. It promises a fleeting sense of control, a belief that we can simply wish away what troubles us, even when we understand that such faith is empty and devoid of the genuine self-love and acceptance required for true resilience.

However, the longer we gorge on this sweet illusion, the more detrimental it becomes. When life inevitably strikes again, when its weight threatens to crush us, and we find ourselves questioning every choice, drowning in hot air rising in our lungs, denial ceases to be a brief, protective numbness. It transforms into a suffocating blanket, isolating us from the very resources and compassion we desperately need. When we dwell too long on denial, the consequences can indeed be gruesome. It saps our energy, distorts our perspective, and prevents us from engaging with the very processes—healing, problem-solving, growth—that would liberate us.

This is why, in those moments of overwhelming struggle, when the illusion has shattered and the pain is undeniable, it is vital to remember a profound truth: there is no shame in acknowledging weakness. Vulnerability is not a flaw; it is the raw material from which true strength is forged. The courage isn’t in pretending nothing is wrong, but in acknowledging the profound reality of our hurt, our fear, our uncertainty.

The path to healing begins when we step away from the rich, sweet deception of denial and choose the harder, yet ultimately liberating, reality. It means having the courage to ask for help, to reach out when we feel the most alone. It means admitting we don’t have all the answers, and that we need support to navigate the stormy waters. This is the act of genuine faith—faith in our own capacity for recovery, and faith in the compassion of others. It’s a hard journey, but it is the only one that leads to true understanding, authentic strength, and ultimately, a foundation built on truth rather than illusion