FAMILY TREE HEALING
My experience and research on child abuse confirm that just like some types of addiction and disease, such as alcoholism and diabetes, this abomination could pass on from generation to generation. Physical child abuse which is often taken for granted because it is so common and regarded as an effective method of discipline by parents and persons of authority in some households and communities, can easily manifest in the family tree from the grandparents down to their grandchildren. The good news is that child abuse in all its forms (physical, sexual, psychological and neglect) can be stopped or prevented, particularly in the family, where it is usually perpetrated and kept in secret.
I was 10 years old and in 4th grade (our neighbor and relative had been abusing me by then) when I began exhibiting the effects of child abuse. I could still remember that day when I stabbed my older brother's arm with a pencil and was so terrified when he started bleeding profusely that my Dad had to take him to the doctor. There were times when our Dad travelled around the country as a salesman and my eldest brother had to physically restrain me when I became verbally disrespectful to our Mom. The same physical and verbal or psychological abuse which I exhibited at an early age would be committed by me against my own family and difficult to get rid of, partly because they were the by-products (the rage within) of the sexual abuse inflicted on me, and the same abuse/corporal punishment that were passed on to me by my Dad and some of my teachers when I disobeyed them. Don't get me wrong, but I had one of the kindest, most generous and most loving Dads in the whole world, and certainly the best teachers that you could possibly ask for in grade school. And, I don't blame them for using the stick or belt in doing their best to discipline me, because they didn't know any better, namely, corporal punishment was the norm, rather than the exception, during that time.
Then, how do I prevent child abuse from passing on further down into our family tree? And, how can my family get rid of the horrific memories and indelible scars of child abuse?
Looking back, the first time I sensed that something wasn't right with me was during my freshman year in college when I had recurring nightmares and suicidal thoughts. I had to muster enough courage to finally make an appointment and see the resident psychiatrist at the university's student clinic. But because of the stigma associated with having to see a psychiatrist, I stopped seeing him after the first visit. It took 15 years before I went back to see a shrink, that is, when I couldn't sleep at night persistently. Did it help? Yes, it did. I got my sleep back and was satisfied that I went to a professional for help. But ultimately, I credit and continue to pray to the Child Jesus/Santo Niño for holistic healing of my mind, body and spirit and the healing of our family tree. Why?
Because Jesus Christ himself said that, "Nothing is impossible with God." At first, I didn't believe Him. But out of desperation, I cried out to Him, "Lord, I can't take this anymore; please help me!" It took a lot of humility on my part to admit that I needed His help. In the first place, my mind was telling me that, "I didn't take this abuse upon myself; I was 10 years old; so, why did God allow this to happen to me?" Moreover, the devil was saying to me, "Don't believe Jesus; He doesn't care about you; If He did, then how come He's letting you suffer?" This became a huge stumbling block for me, and I was paralyzed and unable to take a leap of faith.
So, how did I overcome my dilemma? (This is the same question that philosophers and theologians had been trying to answer for ages, namely---the problem of evil, which states that: If God is all-knowing and all powerful; then, why does He allow evil and suffering to exist in the world?)
I didn't solve my dilemma. God did, by bringing me to His cross at the top of the hill which I painstakingly climbed on a wintry and snowy day while wrestling and agonizing at my predicament during a retreat. Upon reaching the summit, I embraced the cross, looked around me and marveled at His magnificent creation. And, it dawned on me: Who am I to question the mind of God? If He can make this dead landscape looked so beautiful in the dead of winter and come alive again in the spring; then, why not me? And, if Jesus who is sinless, suffered and died for me so that I could live a glorious life with Him forever in the next life; then, why can't I who am a sinner, surrender my life to Him and trust Him completely with my earthly life? Finally, I felt at peace within me.
When I came back for the 1st scrutiny assembly with our pastor, I was able to share my abuse to the group for the first time. I felt a heavy burden lifted off my other shoulder, because before that, only my wife, our children and the spouse of the relative who abused me and a few other relatives knew about the abuse. My wife and I agreed not to tell anybody because it might ruin our reputation and destroy our retail and real estate business. Also, we were afraid that people might think that I am a child molester and they will ostracize us, especially our children. For my part, I wished that I could have buried the secret in my grave, so that I didn't have to explain to people as to why I didn't report the abuse to my parents (some looked at me as if I was a willing participant and not the victim). People fail or don't seem to understand that the victim is just a kid who has neither any knowledge of pedophilia nor even an iota of defense against a trusted adult, especially if he is a priest, teacher, relative, friend or member of the family. And, that by the time the perpetrator is committing the crime against the child who is being abused, even for the first time, the abuser has already annihilated that life of trust, innocence and joy in him or her by sowing an enormous amount of threat, fear, guilt, shame and the destruction of the victim's self-esteem which can lead to suicide, prostitution, crime, health and behavioral problems, as well as drug and alcohol problems, right after the abuse or even later in life. I certainly didn't understand either until I left home to go to the university, and felt like a lost sheep in the jungles of Manila. I considered myself lucky because not only did I survive in the Sin City but I was also able to get my degree. Later, I would find out from my Mom that it had nothing to do with luck, when she told me that as soon as I closed the door behind me and left for college she never stopped praying for me.
Today, my wife and I pray a lot (I mean---a lot, but it's never enough) and go to the sacrament of reconciliation at least once a week and try to receive the Lord Jesus in the Holy Eucharist everyday for various intentions, including our healing and the healing of our family tree. We pray unceasingly for the healing of our children and future grandchildren and great-grandchildren. We pray for our deceased ancestors and grandparents, and offer memorial healing Masses and visit the graves of our parents during Easter, Christmas, All Souls Day, Memorial Day and the anniversary of their deaths. And, we pray for healing for all living and deceased members of our families---by asking Santo Niño to forgive ourselves and each other, for all the child abuse transgressions committed against our families, and to break this horrific curse of child abuse from our family tree.
I was 10 years old and in 4th grade (our neighbor and relative had been abusing me by then) when I began exhibiting the effects of child abuse. I could still remember that day when I stabbed my older brother's arm with a pencil and was so terrified when he started bleeding profusely that my Dad had to take him to the doctor. There were times when our Dad travelled around the country as a salesman and my eldest brother had to physically restrain me when I became verbally disrespectful to our Mom. The same physical and verbal or psychological abuse which I exhibited at an early age would be committed by me against my own family and difficult to get rid of, partly because they were the by-products (the rage within) of the sexual abuse inflicted on me, and the same abuse/corporal punishment that were passed on to me by my Dad and some of my teachers when I disobeyed them. Don't get me wrong, but I had one of the kindest, most generous and most loving Dads in the whole world, and certainly the best teachers that you could possibly ask for in grade school. And, I don't blame them for using the stick or belt in doing their best to discipline me, because they didn't know any better, namely, corporal punishment was the norm, rather than the exception, during that time.
Then, how do I prevent child abuse from passing on further down into our family tree? And, how can my family get rid of the horrific memories and indelible scars of child abuse?
Looking back, the first time I sensed that something wasn't right with me was during my freshman year in college when I had recurring nightmares and suicidal thoughts. I had to muster enough courage to finally make an appointment and see the resident psychiatrist at the university's student clinic. But because of the stigma associated with having to see a psychiatrist, I stopped seeing him after the first visit. It took 15 years before I went back to see a shrink, that is, when I couldn't sleep at night persistently. Did it help? Yes, it did. I got my sleep back and was satisfied that I went to a professional for help. But ultimately, I credit and continue to pray to the Child Jesus/Santo Niño for holistic healing of my mind, body and spirit and the healing of our family tree. Why?
Because Jesus Christ himself said that, "Nothing is impossible with God." At first, I didn't believe Him. But out of desperation, I cried out to Him, "Lord, I can't take this anymore; please help me!" It took a lot of humility on my part to admit that I needed His help. In the first place, my mind was telling me that, "I didn't take this abuse upon myself; I was 10 years old; so, why did God allow this to happen to me?" Moreover, the devil was saying to me, "Don't believe Jesus; He doesn't care about you; If He did, then how come He's letting you suffer?" This became a huge stumbling block for me, and I was paralyzed and unable to take a leap of faith.
So, how did I overcome my dilemma? (This is the same question that philosophers and theologians had been trying to answer for ages, namely---the problem of evil, which states that: If God is all-knowing and all powerful; then, why does He allow evil and suffering to exist in the world?)
I didn't solve my dilemma. God did, by bringing me to His cross at the top of the hill which I painstakingly climbed on a wintry and snowy day while wrestling and agonizing at my predicament during a retreat. Upon reaching the summit, I embraced the cross, looked around me and marveled at His magnificent creation. And, it dawned on me: Who am I to question the mind of God? If He can make this dead landscape looked so beautiful in the dead of winter and come alive again in the spring; then, why not me? And, if Jesus who is sinless, suffered and died for me so that I could live a glorious life with Him forever in the next life; then, why can't I who am a sinner, surrender my life to Him and trust Him completely with my earthly life? Finally, I felt at peace within me.
When I came back for the 1st scrutiny assembly with our pastor, I was able to share my abuse to the group for the first time. I felt a heavy burden lifted off my other shoulder, because before that, only my wife, our children and the spouse of the relative who abused me and a few other relatives knew about the abuse. My wife and I agreed not to tell anybody because it might ruin our reputation and destroy our retail and real estate business. Also, we were afraid that people might think that I am a child molester and they will ostracize us, especially our children. For my part, I wished that I could have buried the secret in my grave, so that I didn't have to explain to people as to why I didn't report the abuse to my parents (some looked at me as if I was a willing participant and not the victim). People fail or don't seem to understand that the victim is just a kid who has neither any knowledge of pedophilia nor even an iota of defense against a trusted adult, especially if he is a priest, teacher, relative, friend or member of the family. And, that by the time the perpetrator is committing the crime against the child who is being abused, even for the first time, the abuser has already annihilated that life of trust, innocence and joy in him or her by sowing an enormous amount of threat, fear, guilt, shame and the destruction of the victim's self-esteem which can lead to suicide, prostitution, crime, health and behavioral problems, as well as drug and alcohol problems, right after the abuse or even later in life. I certainly didn't understand either until I left home to go to the university, and felt like a lost sheep in the jungles of Manila. I considered myself lucky because not only did I survive in the Sin City but I was also able to get my degree. Later, I would find out from my Mom that it had nothing to do with luck, when she told me that as soon as I closed the door behind me and left for college she never stopped praying for me.
Today, my wife and I pray a lot (I mean---a lot, but it's never enough) and go to the sacrament of reconciliation at least once a week and try to receive the Lord Jesus in the Holy Eucharist everyday for various intentions, including our healing and the healing of our family tree. We pray unceasingly for the healing of our children and future grandchildren and great-grandchildren. We pray for our deceased ancestors and grandparents, and offer memorial healing Masses and visit the graves of our parents during Easter, Christmas, All Souls Day, Memorial Day and the anniversary of their deaths. And, we pray for healing for all living and deceased members of our families---by asking Santo Niño to forgive ourselves and each other, for all the child abuse transgressions committed against our families, and to break this horrific curse of child abuse from our family tree.
Christmas '09
