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| LifeLines |

Crushed Apple

“Let me ask you a question,” he challenges me. “Do you enjoy hitting your kids?”

 

“Yanky, you need to get help, or you’re outa here.”

I roll my eyes. I’ve heard these words from my wife, Rochel, countless times throughout the nine years of our marriage. I dismiss them yet again.

But Rochel isn’t done nagging me. “If you can announce in front of your kids that Mommy’s supper tastes horrible, and tell them that I’m ugly, then you need to leave this house immediately.”

“There you go,” I say, “making up stories again.”

Over the years, Rochel has locked me out of the house dozens of times, claiming that my behavior is unacceptable. Each time, after spending a night or two in my car, I come back, apologize, and promise her to improve, just so I can get back into the house. And then she lets me back in, until she decides again that she doesn’t like something I did. She likes to complain that I say insulting things to her, that I violently attack the kids, that I’m totally out of control.

She’s imagining things, of course.

But this time, I’m in for a surprise.

“Tatty,” my eight-year-old son, Shmuli, says earnestly, “you did say those things to us tonight. You told us that Mommy’s supper tastes horrible. And you told us that she’s ugly. You say that lots of times.”

I honestly have no recollection of saying such words. I’m a nice guy, after all, the type who would give the shirt off his back to a friend. I get along well with everyone in shul, at work, and on the street. Until now, it’s only been Rochel who accuses me of having an anger problem and behaving like a madman — and I never believe a word she says, because I know it’s not true.

Except that now, my own son is confirming her accusation. And, looking into his sad little eyes, I think to myself, for the first time, Maybe I do have an issue.

That’s how I find myself sitting in the office of a therapist, a fellow named Aron Fishbaum.

“From what I understand from your wife,” he begins, “your father abused you as a child, and, in classic post-trauma fashion, you’re repeating the same dysfunctional patterns of behavior with your own family.”

Abuse? Post-trauma? Dysfunctional patterns of behavior? These words sound kooky to me.

“I did have a strict father,” I manage to say, “but I think you have the wrong picture. My father is a pillar of the community, a highly respected askan and baal tzedakah. Ask anyone who knows him and they’ll tell you what a special person he is.”

Mr. Fishbaum gives me a funny look. “What people in the community think of a person doesn’t necessarily mean much,” he says. “It’s a person’s behavior at home, around his wife and children, that defines him.”

Many times, when I casually mention to Rochel something my father did to me growing up — like throwing me out of the car onto the street because I misbehaved, or hitting me until I fainted — she responds with horror. “That’s not normal!” she exclaims. “That’s crazy!”

“Nah,” I answer. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

Excerpted from Mishpacha Magazine. To view full version, SUBSCRIBE FOR FREE or LOG IN.

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Comments (5)


  1. Avatar
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    R.S.

    Thank you for such an amazing story. This is not only the story of Yanky but the story of virtually anyone who had grandparents that went through the war.
    My mother had a lot of anger issues when she raised us kids. She did show love by giving, giving, and giving physically — but we had no emotional connection. No kissing or hugging at all.
    I had a very hard time coming to terms with my mother’s behavior, and it left many repercussions, similar to Yanky. Until one day, while talking to a friend who went through the same type of thing, she explained to me why. Our parents had a very hard upbringing with their parents being war survivors and inadvertently letting out their suffering on their children. Many of these severely scarred survivors either gave no love to their kids or were very poor, and that is why our parents behave to us in this way.
    We are still therefore suffering from the war. The hard part is now to bring up our children without repeating the same mistakes.


  2. Avatar
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    When I read the title of the Lifelines this week, I turned right to that page. In recent months, there was much talk about parental alienation; parents lamenting that they did everything for their children and could not fathom as to why the kids would not talk to them. The LifeLines this week was the other way around, a parent retrospecting.
    My wife’s mother suffers from BPD, and she would meet the description of Reb Benzion perfectly, except for the hitting. Like Yanky, her siblings recently realized what had occurred during their childhood. Like Yanky, it was when an external person pointed it out that they realized that they are treating their children the same they had been treated. They realized why they do not have self-confidence or why they would become anxious during healthy life changes.
    While my wife does talk to her parents, it is emotionally draining, and their interactions are not so frequent. My father-in-law wants his family to be intact like before they figured out what is going on. But rather than listening to his children, sending his wife for help, and protecting the kids still at home, he is in denial.
    He belittles his kids and portrays them as alienators. He enlists all those around him to the “cause” of getting his children to talk to their mother more often. When these people try to help, they cannot understand why a child would not want to talk to her parents for such “trivial” reasons. After talking my face blue to the first two people, trying to explain the situation, I want to tell these well-meaning people one thing: If you cannot understand why a child does not speak to his parents and the child has a therapist and a rav, please step aside. If you are told your help is not needed or not appreciated, it is not because we don’t want help; it is because of others who are not willing to be helped. We might just be leading healthier lives by not talking to them as often.
    As much as it hurts you, it hurts us more. Because, as you said to me countless times, “a child needs his parents.”


    1. Avatar
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      G.W.

      Reading through the Inbox in this week’s Mishpacha, I spotted the word “alienation” in a letter from “A son-in-law in pain.” As the director of a group for alienated parents my ears instantly perked up.

      After rereading both your Lifelines story “Crushed Apple” and its response, I was concerned that your readership will now associate alienated children with harsh and aggressive parenting. This is not necessarily the truth. Contrary to what the letter writer implies, alienation is not about the fallout of a parent-child relationship. Rather it is the culmination of a ploy by a third party known as “the Alienator.”

      The goal of the alienator is to impress on the child that his mother or father was unloving and failed to protect him. Sadly, utilizing manipulative tactics which are often deceptive or taken out of context, it is possible to do so.

      Your Lifelines story “Crushed Apple” more closely reflects a term known as “estrangement.” In this phenomenon, children will reject parents that actually hurt them.

      Unfortunately many people tend to confuse these two terms. I thought it significant to clarify this so that grieving parents who are experiencing true alienation can receive the love and support from family and friends that is so crucial to their survival.

      It may interest your readership to know that there is a support group for alienated parents with over 200 members, all from the frum heimishe community. For many of our members, our group is the first place they found true understanding for their plight. We have also developed many projects to bring awareness to our community at large in the hope of reuniting families.

      May all Hashem’s children find healing and be reunited with their loved ones,


  3. Avatar
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    A beautiful apple

    Last night after getting a glimpse of the LifeLines story, I threw the Mishpacha down on the table and grumbled to my wife, “Not again. Every week all they write about is therapy and emotional issues… why can’t they write about other people’s issues for once… why me?”
    My wife assured me that it was a great story and I should read it slowly. Boy was she right!
    As a chassidish yingerman, and a survivor of childhood trauma who is currently in therapy, I found this story so true. It resonated on a very deep level. I applaud Yanky for opening up to get help and applaud Rochel for nagging him. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him, just like it wasn’t for my wife.
    The reason I am writing this letter is because the denial of emotional trauma often prevents people from getting help, or even realizing that they are acting out their own story and belief that they have ingrained in themselves from their youth.
    I myself did not do anything about it until I had a family with kids and I am thankful and grateful to the Ribbono shel Olam for giving me such a supportive wife and for sending me the right shlichim at the right moment to guide me and to stand by my side while I go through the process.
    It is very painful process and not a quick fix to heal. However, just opening up and accepting help will already make a huge difference in a person’s life. He will feel more alive and feel the vibrancy in life, the entire family life will be different, the kids will be different, the relationship with your friends will be different, and lastly your relationship with Hashem will take a full new meaning. Like Yanky’s crushed apple, you can make your apple shine again!
    I call out to everyone (including my own siblings) to please go and get yourself help. Please do it for your precious children, do it for the future wellbeing of all the doros. Please put a stop to the vicious cycle so it doesn’t repeat.
    There is lots of help out there; the heimishe world is blessed to have an amazing bunch of therapists who deal exclusively with trauma using various methods with great success. There are also some support groups to connect with other people doing the same work.
    I thank Mishpacha for publishing this story and daven that we all raise erlich, emotionally healthy doros!


  4. Avatar
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    Someone who knows

    The LifeLines story this week about the abused child who became an abusive father really hit home with me.
    I grew up in an abusive home. Eventually my parents divorced, but it was too little too late. I am now married, but struggling with the scars from my childhood. I’ve been seeing a therapist for a few years and baruch Hashem am really working hard changing things around! My wife grew up in a very difficult home too, and she really supports me.
    What really bothers me is the callous attitude many in our community have toward abuse. I live in Lakewood and learned in BMG for five years. I “get” the yeshivah world. I am part of that world. But it’s so hard for me to relate to the cynicism towards therapy.
    The attitude of “yes, it’s just a few smacks” has to change. The apathy toward victims has to change. The awareness and understanding toward victims has to change. Why is this not a constant issue being talked about? It’s not okay to beat your children and wife.
    You would think that by 2020, things would be different. Sometimes I am shocked how little has changed.
    This has to be a constant discussion. Thanks for being brave and bringing up this painful subject. Please keep the conversation going. We all hear about masks being safek pikuach nefesh. Abuse is pikuach nefesh!