Every so often I come to a point where I start to question everything. I question these memories, or my Others and how separated are they or if they are real. I test whether or not the life I remember is the life i lived. I get to a point where I am like, Oh COME ON ALREADY!!! Are You Serious??? Really??? Every once in a while it gets to be too much, because honestly I am currently living the life that fits with the past I remembered. Usually this happens when I am faced with a major change of perspective on how I apply what I am learned so far to my life in a way that I can not hide from. It is then that I go back to what brought me here in the first place.
This path I am on started ten years ago with St. Padre Pio.
It has been Ten Years Already! Wow! Back then I was 75% sure that I had not experienced abuse. The first day asking for St. Pio’s intercession to heal this mental chaos, he gave me one small flashback. And that was it – the question’s I had throughout my life regarding whether or not anything abusive happened was in fact answered. But, isn’t that interesting too? I always questioned whether or not I was abused – as if even as a young person I knew what I could not consciously know.
This post is more of a continuation of two previous posts:
When I was probably 2 years old our family lived in an apartment. Hanging on the dining room wall was a painting that my great-grandparents bought when they were first married. It was a painting of Jesus in the garden of olives (I believe is called the garden of Gethsemane?)
As a very little girl I would look up at that painting. It was a very dark painting, set in a dark wooden frame. It was difficult to understand what the painting was about. One day, my dad must have been sober for a moment and took interest in his daughter pondering this painting. He stood next to me, and gave me the opportunity to ask him, “Who is that?”
He said it is Jesus. It is a painting of His agony in the garden of olives.
I didn’t know who Jesus was or what agony meant, but couldn’t help staring at this painting of a man kneeling and praying with heartfelt expression on his face. His apostles, sleeping in the distance.
 And going out, he went, according to his custom, to the mount of Olives. And his disciples also followed him.  And when he was come to the place, he said to them: Pray, lest ye enter into temptation.
 And he was withdrawn away from them a stone’ s cast; and kneeling down, he prayed,  Saying: Father, if thou wilt, remove this chalice from me: but yet not my will, but thine be done.  And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in an agony, he prayed the longer.  And his sweat became as drops of blood, trickling down upon the ground.  And when he rose up from prayer, and was come to his disciples, he found them sleeping for sorrow.
 And he said to them: Why sleep you? arise, pray, lest you enter into temptation.  As he was yet speaking, behold a multitude; and he that was called Judas, one of the twelve, went before them, and drew near to Jesus, for to kiss him.  And Jesus said to him: Judas, dost thou betray the Son of man with a kiss?  And they that were about him, seeing what would follow, said to him: Lord, shall we strike with the sword?  And one of them struck the servant of the high priest, and cut off his right ear.
 But Jesus answering, said: Suffer ye thus far. And when he had touched his ear, he healed him. (Luke 22:39-51)
For some reason, that painting connected to my heart.
Growing up learning the traditional catechism, we were taught that during Jesus’ agony Satan was there. The devil showed Jesus all of our sins, all the horrible things that would still happen until the end of the world regardless if Jesus suffered on the cross or not. And the devil showed these things to Jesus – ALL of the sins of mankind – all of this within an hour.
It makes sense why Jesus was sweating blood from every pore of His body!
I try to place myself in that position…
Jesus, during this agony, saw…
innocent babies being tortured,
children being raped,
children being scandalized in countless ways,
His own church, His own priests abusing others
His own followers allowing Satan to infect, betray, and deceive
Jesus saw how “anti-apostles” who are satanic priests would deceive others into allowing them into a catholic church, turn the unleavened bread into the body and blood of Jesus, only to then turn around and use His body and His blood in black masses – and still, nobody believes this happens.
That is not all, no, He also saw the suffering He was about to endure.
Jesus saw and felt not only the victimization and perversion of innocence, but also the sins of those who committed these crimes. Contemplating this in regards to my own life feels impossible because I know how hard it has been to remember and allow Christ to heal me. Just one memory alone is too much, let alone my entire existence and lives of those who did in fact choose to abuse and torture me.
Jesus saw this all, before he died. Not only my life and the lives of those who did this to me – but every one – ALL sins til the end of the world!
No wonder he sweat blood.
So, whenever this all seems like it is too much I unite myself with Jesus Christ’s Agony in the Garden. Whenever this seems like it is too hard to believe when another memory comes up – I suffer through the memory anyway. Jesus endured my memories, and He didn’t deserve to suffer through them.
Jesus took some of the suffering upon Himself, so that I wouldn’t have to suffer as much.
When it all is too weird for words, I say to myself this:
“Even if this isn’t true, I am going to suffer this anyway because chances are that somebody somewhere in the world is in fact going through this. Chances are that somebody in the world is too weak to endure remembering their trauma, and I am remembering now for their sake.”
This is how I unite myself with Christ’s agony as best I can.
Then, I am usually reminded of all the examples that show me how this is all true and I did go through this.
Jesus, I trust in You!
Sometimes, it feels like we will never get through this. It feels like the suffering will never end. The hard days become more common that the okay days. But, I know that as long as I am able to cry out to God –
God will show His mercy and His love.