Illusion and delusion

In psychology, we often talk about how it is the story we are telling ourselves.
I always use this example; my mom will stop couples in their conflict, point to the wall and ask them where they want the movie to go from here.
My teenage clients struggle because they are being forced to recognize that none of it is true (and really recognizing this for the first time consciously is sooooo painful), that they have to be responsible for their own story, and running into the friction that comes when their story isn't in synch with those around them.
We ask them to take responsibility for their behaviors, and they push it away because it would tear down their delusion.
"You must be wrong" they swear up and down, "because it is too painful to acknowledge my own self-deception." And it's true right?  we must be wrong, they will it so with their story.

We all tell ourselves stories out of self-protection. Out of fear and desire. Sometimes the story allows us to grow and see opportunities. Sometimes the stories only hurt us more.
Yesterday I walked around the lake wishing for the feeling of "magic," the good kind, I clarified to myself.
What is the good kind of magic?
The feeling that my delusion matches with another's. That the universe has conspired to throw us together. That pull that says the illusory could be mine. Something outside my own choices to make meaning happen.
And meanwhile, I missed the beauty surrounding me, the plants and trees, the flowers, the blooming, the sky of blue, the synchronicity of nature. Saw myself separate from the universe, a delusion that causes me to feel lost and alone, even when I am surrounded.

My brother is using drugs to feel that sense of connection, and it is causing those around him to pull away (losing connection). He says that is their choice and he cannot control it. He is both right and wrong. He can control whether his delusion (and behavior) stays in synch with theirs, but the story he prefers to tell himself is that his story is so different from theirs that it will naturally cause conflict, which is true as well. It's that simple and that complex.

When I fall for people, I fall hard. Even though I can swarm around with a million contradictory thoughts, my ability to deceive myself is powerful AF, and I love it.  I love the self-deception. It hurts sooooo good (attachment is suffering after all, and wow, it's lovely).
I was thinking (again) how easy it is to blame others when they force us to recognize our delusions. What is a heartbreak but the forced loss of delusion? Whether it is a death or a break up, the loss of a job, a pandemic. The sudden realization that the attachment isn't real, just an idea that you've invested all your energy into.

I know I delude myself in relationships. I ask the other person to delude themselves the same way, to reconcile our delusions when we are in conflict, to plan a future in which our delusions align in parallel. It's the only way (it seems) to move forward without being crushed by the reality of change, of catastrophe, of misfortune and death. I am only angry and hurt by M, because she forced me to acknowledge my self-deception. I liked the story, I didn't want her to steal it from me.

Many of us use religion, specifically the idea of a G-d whose will supersedes these forces. Who can see through our delusions and guide us. I ask this G-d everyday to guide me, to steal my delusions from me and allow me to recognize what is, and what could be the universe's will for the people I interact with. I find it sooooooooo comforting. So helpful to believe this that I rarely question it in any serious way. Even though I am critical, I will always choose this delusion.

This pandemic is a really interesting time. Like a depression, or a death, it forces us to reconcile our delusions, to decide which stories are meaningful to us, force us to consider which is actually helpful. We do this individually, as families, as a society, as a world.
Octavia E Butler tells us "God is change" in a story that takes place in the midst of a society falling apart. How do you create something new, without acknowledging that you have the power to tell a new story?

Does acknowledging this ability, this power, make life easier or harder?
I don't know. Even as I write this, I can't decide where I want to take my life today, the responsibility of wisdom -often feels like a burden that I'd prefer to thrust on someone else.
Sometimes I feel like the more I acknowledge the reality of life, the harder it is to relate to people in their delusions, and at the same time, I feel so much love for them, especially the young ones. Maybe it's just that, I really want someone to invest in mine. I think that seems truthful. But I discard possibilities left and right, choosing to believe that it has to be someone "special" or something. Layers and layers of delusion, folding infinitely upon themselves, and the complexity is beautiful.