I’ve spent the larger part of my 24 years running from or denying ugliness.
A natural response to said ugliness is often some variation of “why me?” Why am I being forced to deal with this? Why is this happening to me? Me, me, me.
The fallacy in this line of thinking is considering pain and ugliness as something separate from us. Pain and misfortune aren’t something that’s inflicted upon us, it’s something inherently apart of us as human beings.
“Why me’s” are useless. The only thing I’ve come to know for certain is that nothing is certain. When we look at the pain from the ugliness and turn it into an unwanted intruder, we lose out on on the experience of taking our pain along on the ride with us. When we make our pain into a feral animal that’s somehow broken through our backyard fences instead of living in the shadows of our humble homes, it becomes easier to dissociate from it. It’s something different from us, something “other,” and as a result of that we don’t allow it into our consciousness as a part of ourselves, which is a disservice to the very real pain that is apart of everyone single persons human experience.
I think it’s part of most of our defaults, however, to run and deny pain and ugliness. Myself included.I’m still learning how to turn the “why me’s” into “where can I go from here’s” as best as I can.
Despite this, a blessing I’ve come to acknowledge with time is the extent to which other people are dealing with ugliness in their lives as well. Newsflash: we all are. That’s one of the most bittersweet realizations I’ve come to as a young adult: you think that you’re the only one knees deep in a steaming pile of shit, meanwhile the people you meet threw their jeans in the washer just prior. We’re all knees deep in shit, some of are just better at washing it off before heading out the door.
Undertaking the process of becoming more self aware has lead me to realize the extent to which I’ve tried to deny, numb, or run away from acknowledging unpleasant things. Grasping how often I clung to this unfortunate method of coping with unpleasantries in my life, it’s easy to see why I dissociate myself from pain. In many ways, it’s been part of my survival. But I know too much now to deny myself the experience of sitting with my pain.
Writing is often how I deal with my inner and outer turmoil. Sometimes I run from that too, because once you put the words to paper, or keyboard, they materialize. They are real. And then you have to deal with them. It’s a lot easier to run from things, we all know this. And we also know it makes the inevitable worse in the end the longer we put off dealing with whatever it is we’re running from.
It’s time to take ownership of
your my misfortunes and deal with them.
Are you dealing with your ugliness, or just ignoring it?