Years ago, I had a friend we called "Cleopatra, the Queen of Denial." She could convince herself of almost anything if she felt acknowledging the truth threatened her stability and sense of comfort. She reminded me of Stella in the Tennessee Williams play, "A Streetcar Named Desire." In the play, Stella knows somewhere inside that her husband Stanley has raped her sister Blanche. But admitting that to herself would mean watching her world crumble around her. So she simply denies it.

Such thoughts came to mind the other day as I read about James W. von Brunn gunning down Stephen T. Johns, a guard at the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum. Von Brunn was a "Holocaust denier." He refused to accept the fact that 6 million Jews were killed by the Nazis. And when it comes to denying, that's a big lie to swallow.

Of course, most of us play denial games on a smaller level. We tell ourselves we still have the athletic skills to run with the kids or that we're not petty thieves when we take supplies home from work. But, as Flannery O'Connor said, "the truth won't change according to our ability to stomach it." And when we do get a wake-up call and realize we've been out to lunch, the "attitude adjustment" can be painful.

Apparently, von Brunn felt accepting the truth would be beyond painful. It would be deadly. Like Stella, he feared his world would fly into pieces if he acknowledged the truth.

But here's a secret.

Our world seldom does.

We may feel lost and dizzy for a spell and get anxiety attacks. But accepting the truth is seldom a killer.

When you feel that accepting the truth will throw you headlong into the lake, keep in mind you can float out there. You don't have to drown.

You can cope.

Worse than learning the truth are those dark fantasies we tell ourselves about what will happen to us if we give in.

Even at age 88, von Brunn couldn't look the beast of denial in the eye. If he had, like little Max in "Where the Wild Things Are," chances are he wouldn't have been eaten alive. He would have tamed the thing.

"We have nothing to fear except fear itself," Pat Paulson used to say. "And the boogeyman."

It's the fear of that non-existent boogeyman that keeps many people in a state of denial and telling themselves the most astounding lies.

I remember seeing film footage years ago of a yogi who was convinced he could walk on water. People tried to tell him otherwise, but he could not allow himself to be swayed by reality. So one day, he summoned a film crew and had them film him as he stepped off into a swimming pool.

He sank like a basket of bricks.

But here's the thing. He didn't drown. He popped back to the surface. He survived — wetter but wiser.

Von Brunn probably would have survived learning he was in denial. But it's too late for him to learn that lesson now.

Let's hope the rest of us can.

E-MAIL: jerjohn@desnews.com