We cannot afford to comfort ourselves with denial and be blind to the truth. The price is just too high.
We have to look at them, see them, and recognize their obvious demonstrations of pain.
We have to diligently look for how often we are unloving and contribute to their pain.
Only with that kind of courageous honesty can we do anything for them.
Timestamps:
00:00 Daughter withdrawn and suicidal but Father doesn't want to change to help her.
03:00 Daughter kills herself, eulogy is full of denial. Father never really saw her.
05:19 Denial is death.
07:00 Acknowledge that there is a problem so you can really help.
Transcript:
I know a man, Jack, who told me months ago that his daughter, Jessica—in her mid-twenties—had become increasingly withdrawn and depressed for the past several years. After asking a number questions, I strongly suspected that she’d been withdrawing and cutting for many years before that.
A Father is Blind to the truth of His Daughter’s Pain
He said, “I just don’t know what to do. No matter what I say, it seems like I make it worse.” That was very likely true because I knew that he was usually a stern and judgmental man who controlled the people around him with guilt, obligation, and anger. I suggested that he might consider watching the Parenting Training to give him some ideas about his daughter, but he never did.
During our conversation, he even said that he hoped that someone would be able to reach his children, because they “just don’t listen to their parents.” He had already given up, had no interest in learning, and hoped for some outside miracle to help Jessica and his other children, who were having problems similar to those of her sister.
His Eulogy Demonstrates His Blindness to the Truth
Recently someone sent me a memorial written for a young woman who had killed herself. She was Jack’s daughter, and he had written the memorial piece. He said:
“Our beloved Jessica has left this earth after many years of illness.”
He couldn’t bring himself to say that she had suffered from mental illness, nor that she had killed herself.
“She was 27 years old. Jessica was loving toward everyone in her family and to all her friends. She played the piano, sang in church, and painted the most beautiful landscapes, which she gave away to others. Her faith in God was strong and never wavered.”
Jack never did see the pain that radiated from his daughter, nor would he consider that he might have caused much of it. He preferred to see her as he wanted, and that vigorous refusal to see the truth prevented him from helping her. Having hope for our children is always good, but believing in what is not true never helps anyone.
“She often talked about being a mother, and I know she would have raised loving and beautiful children. She had great dreams of contributing to the world, and she brought smiles to the faces of people everywhere she went.”
The Real Truth About Her Life
The truth is, she was suicidally depressed most of her life, causing people concern and worry, but Jack did not want to see that. During her life, when he was asked how his family was doing, he uniformly said, “They’re all doing great.” Denial is death because then we can’t address problems that proliferate like cancer cells until nothing can be done.
He concluded, “My life is better because Jessica was in it.”
But he never even saw her, and his self-imposed blindness was not pierced by any degree of her pain. She died because of his blindness, and he remained blind despite her death.
Parents are Blind to the Truth of Their Children’s Pain
This may sound singularly tragic to some people, but it’s actually fairly normal in families. We have children who are whining, angry, defiant, addicted to phones and video games, confused, lost, and alone.
They demonstrate their pain in hundreds of ways, and because we simply have no idea how to help them, we refuse to see the symptoms, so these children grow up to be miserable adults. I submit that a long life of pain is far worse than a life of pain—like Jessica’s—that is cut short.
We cannot afford to comfort ourselves with denial and blindness. The price is just too high. We have to look at them, see them, and recognize their obvious demonstrations of pain. We have to diligently look for how often we are unloving and contribute to their pain.
Only with that kind of courageous honesty can we do anything for them. Only then can we say that truly we love them.
