——从心理、防御到身体的潜在代价

文／HuSir

摘要

　　本文探讨人们为何抗拒悔改与反思。作者指出，许多人的拒绝源于对自尊与“高尚形象”的防御。在压力环境中，人们以“自我正确”维持尊严，却阻断真正的成长。长期拒绝悔改不仅损害心理，也逐渐伤害身体。真正的悔改是一种内在更新，人生的转折始于拆除心中那道拒绝悔改的墙。

　　在很多人的理解中，悔改或通常意义上的问题反思是一种道德行为，一种对错误的承认。悔改这个词也带有一定的信仰意味，包含了后悔和改变两层含义；而反思则缺少了、或不一定会有后续改变的行为。然而在现实生活中，悔改却远比我们想象得困难。困难的原因，并不主要来自外部环境，而是来自人们对“反思”和“承认错误”这两件事本身的深度抗拒。

　　许多人并不认为问题出在自己身上。他们对具体事件、对人生价值、对是非判断有着截然不同的理解，并且坚信自己的立场是合理甚至高尚的。在这样的认知结构中，反思自己反而显得多余，甚至被视为软弱。错误被归因于他人、环境或各种不可抗力因素，而自我始终站在“正当”“无辜”“受害”的位置上。

　　更微妙的是，这种拒绝悔改往往伴随着强烈的自我道德优越感。许多人并不只是觉得自己没有错，而是确信自己是高尚的、有原则的、有尊严的。他们不认为自己的问题需要别人指出，反而希望通过维持这种“高尚感”来掩盖自身的缺点。承认错误，对他们而言，不只是承认行为失误，而是威胁到整个自我形象系统的崩塌。

　　在阴霾国这样的社会环境中，这种心理结构尤为普遍。由于长期处在层层传导的压力体系中，每个人都承受着来自上一级的约束与控制，却缺乏真正的释放空间。当人无法向制度、向权力、向环境表达自身压力时，心理会自然转向另一种补偿机制：在面对他人时，无论是陌生人还是熟人，都要“做回自己”，无论对错，都要坚持自己的处理方式，以此证明自己是一个独立个体，是一个有尊严的人。这种尊严的防御，逐渐替代了真正的尊严。

　　例如在个人生活中，一个人在婚姻或亲密关系里出现严重矛盾时，明明已经意识到自己的控制欲、冷漠或逃避正在伤害对方，却仍然坚持认为“我这样做是为了你好”“问题主要出在对方不理解”。他拒绝认真检视自己的行为，因为一旦承认错误，就等于承认自己并不如想象中高尚、理性、正义。于是，关系在表面维持，自尊在内部保全，但真实的问题却被长期拖延，最终以更激烈的冲突或关系破裂收场。

　　在更宏观的层面，这种心理结构也常常出现在国家与社会运行中。当面对经济放缓、信心下滑、外部摩擦、上级决策失误与内部压力时，更容易将问题归因为外部环境、历史条件或他国行为，而对自身制度设计、激励机制与长期积累的结构性问题反思不足。短期内，这种叙述可以维持稳定与信心；但长期来看，缺乏诚实反省与自我修正的系统，往往会在更大的代价中被迫调整。

　　然而正是这种防御，使悔改变得几乎不可能。因为在这样的心理结构中，承认错误意味着尊严的崩塌，意味着被长期压抑的自我彻底失守。于是，人们宁愿死守“我没有错”，也不愿承认“我需要改变”。

　　而这样的“将错就错”，也堵上了让自己身心释放的机会。这种长期拒绝悔改的状态，并不会止于心理层面。它最终会转移到身体之上。当一个人长期压抑、否认、对抗自身问题时，身心会进入持续紧张状态。焦虑、失眠、心血管问题、消化系统疾病、免疫紊乱，往往并非偶然，而是这种内在冲突的积累结果。某种意义上说，不悔改的人，最终是在和自己的身体过不去。

　　悔改的真正意义，并不是自我否定，而是一种深层次的自我更新。它意味着放下那层虚假的高尚感，停止与自己对抗，重新学习如何为自己的生命负责。在一个缺乏安全感与尊严保障的环境中，这条路格外艰难，但也格外必要。

　　或许，个人命运真正开始改变的时刻，并不是外部环境出现转机，而是一个人终于有勇气拆掉心里那道拒绝悔改的墙。

Why Do People Resist Repentance So Strongly?

— The Hidden Costs from Psychology, Defense, to the Body
By HuSir

Summary

This essay explores why people resist repentance and self-reflection. The author argues that such resistance stems from the defense of self-image and dignity. Under pressure, people cling to personal righteousness, blocking genuine growth. Prolonged refusal harms both mind and body. True repentance is inner renewal, and life changes when one dismantles the inner wall that refuses repentance.

In many people’s understanding, repentance—or what is usually called self-reflection—is a moral act, an acknowledgment of wrongdoing. The word “repentance” also carries a certain religious tone, containing both remorse and change; whereas “reflection” may stop at awareness and not necessarily lead to transformation. Yet in real life, repentance is far more difficult than we imagine. The difficulty does not mainly come from the external environment, but from people’s deep resistance to the acts of “self-reflection” and “admitting mistakes” themselves.

Many people do not believe the problem lies with them. They hold very different views regarding specific events, life values, and moral judgment, and firmly believe their own positions are reasonable—even noble. Within this cognitive structure, self-examination appears unnecessary, and is sometimes even regarded as weakness. Fault is attributed to others, circumstances, or uncontrollable forces, while the self consistently occupies the position of being “justified,” “innocent,” and “victimized.”

More subtly, this refusal to repent is often accompanied by a strong sense of moral superiority. Many people are not merely convinced that they are not wrong, but that they are virtuous, principled, and dignified. They do not believe their problems need to be pointed out by others; instead, they attempt to cover their own flaws by preserving this sense of “nobility.” For them, admitting mistakes is not simply acknowledging faulty behavior—it threatens the collapse of their entire self-image system.

In the social environment of the Nation of Haze, this psychological structure is especially common. Because of long-standing hierarchical pressure transmission, everyone lives under constraints imposed from above, while lacking genuine space for emotional release. When people cannot express their stress toward institutions, authority, or their environment, the psyche naturally turns to a compensatory mechanism: in dealing with others—whether strangers or acquaintances—they insist on “being themselves,” regardless of right or wrong, clinging to their own way of handling matters in order to prove that they are independent individuals and that they possess dignity. This defensive posture of dignity gradually replaces genuine dignity itself.

For example, in personal life, when serious conflicts arise within a marriage or intimate relationship, a person may already recognize that their own control, coldness, or avoidance is harming the other party, yet still insist, “I am doing this for your own good,” or “The main problem lies in your lack of understanding.” They refuse to seriously examine their own behavior, because to admit fault would mean admitting that they are not as noble, rational, or just as they imagine. Thus, the relationship remains superficially intact, self-respect is preserved internally, but the real problems are postponed—ultimately erupting into more intense conflict or complete breakdown.

At a broader level, the same psychological pattern frequently appears in the operation of states and societies. When faced with economic slowdown, declining confidence, external friction, policy misjudgment by senior leadership, and internal pressures, it becomes easier to attribute difficulties to external conditions, historical circumstances, or other nations, while avoiding sufficient reflection on one’s own institutional design, incentive mechanisms, and long-accumulated structural problems. In the short term, such narratives may preserve stability and confidence; in the long run, however, systems that lack honest self-examination and self-correction often find themselves forced into adjustment at a much higher cost.

It is precisely this form of defense that makes repentance nearly impossible. Within such a psychological structure, admitting mistakes signifies the collapse of dignity and the total surrender of a long-suppressed self. Therefore, people would rather cling to “I am not wrong” than acknowledge “I need to change.”

This manner of “persisting in error” also blocks the possibility of releasing one’s own body and spirit. Prolonged refusal to repent does not remain confined to the psychological level; it eventually transfers into the body. When a person lives in constant suppression, denial, and inner conflict, both mind and body enter a state of sustained tension. Anxiety, insomnia, cardiovascular problems, digestive disorders, and immune dysfunction are often not accidental, but the cumulative outcome of these unresolved inner struggles. In a certain sense, those who refuse repentance ultimately wage war against their own bodies.

The true meaning of repentance is not self-negation, but deep renewal. It means laying aside the false cloak of moral superiority, ceasing to battle oneself, and relearning how to take responsibility for one’s own life. In an environment lacking security and dignity, this path is especially difficult—but also especially necessary.

Perhaps the moment when a person’s destiny truly begins to change is not when the external environment turns favorable, but when one finally finds the courage to dismantle the inner wall that refuses repentance.