每個人都是獨立的個體，沒有人該為他人而活，這是生命的真相。然而，生命也要我們花時間去親身驗證這個真相。

個人與群體的關係既依存，也獨立。依存體現在相互尊重，獨立則是彼此尊嚴的維護。

對我們影響最深的群體是家庭，其次是學校，成長後則是職場與社交圈。歸屬感提供心靈安定，而尊重個體隱私與權益，則是群體不可推卸的責任。

然而，家庭往往是最缺乏隱私與尊重的地方。尤其在親子關係中，孩子的意見經常被無視，被認為「還不懂事」，去哪裡、做什麼、學什麼、讀哪間學校，幾乎都由父母一手主導。

許多父母並不真正關心孩子的情緒，也未學會管理自己的情緒，只懂得要求與命令。

 

那麼，父母是不愛自己的孩子嗎？拋開極端個案，答案其實很一致，父母的愛並沒有問題，有問題的是「愛的表達方式」。

最難的地方在於，當父母這個角色上場時，沒有人擁有準備好的經驗，尤其是年輕或初為人父母者，更容易複製上一代的教養模式，無意識的重演那些自己曾受傷的場景。

時代雖已遠離「重男輕女」，但在許多家庭中，潛藏的舊觀念依然主導著父母對子女的差別對待。

即使只是冰山一角，也足以見證人類主觀意識如何悄悄改寫孩子的健康命運。

 

被忽視的孩子演著傷痛的劇本，被冷落的孩子成為被孤立的身影。成年後的病痛從不是孤立事件，因為身體記錄著所有情緒。

孩子的早熟往往源於父母的不成熟，教養中的粗暴與情緒失控，在孩子身上留下了深遠陰影，也為將來突如其來的身體病變埋下種子。

在愛與傷害之間，在愛與病痛之間，甚至在愛與恨之間，多少人一生都無法交出合格的答卷。

 

有時在公共場所，會見到母親在眾目睽睽下情緒失控地斥責孩子。孩子或許表現不佳，未符母親期待，但真正失態的往往是大人。

那種失控的情緒究竟訴說著什麼？當街「教訓」孩子的母親，想表達的是什麼？她在意的並非孩子的感受，那她在意的又是什麼？

這種缺乏耐性的教養方式，構築出家庭中的病態氛圍，而這樣的不成熟親子互動，會進一步延伸為醫病關係中的不成熟互動。

 

當醫師面對癌症病患時，往往不會探討病發背後的情緒與家庭背景，因為那並不在診療的範疇內。

但當那位病人是你親近的人，你更應該思考的，不只是他接受什麼治療，而是他用什麼方式處理自己的情緒。

當你身邊的人正陷於情緒低谷，你最該做的事，不只是陪伴，而是為他的情緒「設下停損點」，防止那些無聲的情緒像毒液般擴散到全身，成為難以挽回的傷害。

病發之後，你除了牽引他走向醫療之路，還能做些什麼？生命總在事後提醒我們要「先知先覺」，但大多時候，我們卻是在結果發生的尾端，扮演著「後知後覺的先知」。

 

波蘭心理學家愛麗絲·米勒長期關注兒童心理創傷與疾病之間的連結，她的經典著作《身體不說謊：再揭幸福童年的秘密》中，幾乎每個案例都是「生病的人無法說出口的秘密」。

「無法說」有許多層面，「不方便說」、「不敢說」、「不知道怎麼說」，甚至「不知道可以跟誰說」。

更嚴重的是：「不知道那些不能說的，正是累積成重大疾病的軌跡與根源。」

 

人類最大的疏忽之一，就是持續容許憤怒存在。

我們誤以為生氣是理所當然，誤以為生氣是權威的象徵，誤以為對犯錯的人發火是合理的「教育」，甚至誤以為情緒發洩完就能皆大歡喜、雨過天晴。

但我們忽略的是，太多人其實從未學會如何健康表達情緒，表達能力缺失，情緒便只能往內收納。

久而久之，這些被壓抑的感受便可能轉化為無法逆轉的身體疾病。

 

總結來說，愛發脾氣的父母與罹癌的孩子之間，存在著一條繁複、卻被忽視的情緒鏈條。

這些看似微小的家庭衝突，正是構成當今醫療重症現場的遠端劇情。

 

（不尊重是弱者的武器）

 

Angry Parents vs. Children with Cancer

Every person is an independent being. No one is born to live for someone else—this is the truth of life. Yet life often requires us to spend time and experience to truly grasp this truth.

The relationship between individuals and groups is both interdependent and independent. Interdependence lies in mutual respect; independence is about preserving individual dignity.
The groups that shape us most profoundly are our families, followed by schools, and later in life, the workplace and social networks.
A sense of belonging provides emotional stability, while respecting personal privacy and rights is a fundamental obligation of any group.

Ironically, the place that most lacks privacy and respect is often the family. In parent-child relationships, children’s opinions are frequently dismissed.
They are seen as “too young to understand,” with their whereabouts, activities, education, and even future paths entirely controlled by parents.
Many parents pay little attention to their children’s emotional needs, nor have they learned to manage their own emotions—they only know how to command and demand obedience.

So, do parents not love their children?
Setting aside extreme cases, the answer is almost always the same: there is no lack of love, but a failure in how that love is expressed.
The hardest part of being a parent is that no one comes prepared. Young parents, or those new to parenthood, often unconsciously replicate the parenting style of the previous generation—reliving the same wounds they once suffered.

Though the era of favoring sons over daughters may be behind us, many families still carry the burden of outdated values, applying double standards to their children.
Even if it’s just the tip of the iceberg, it still reveals how human subjectivity silently reshapes a child’s path to health.

Neglected children act out the script of pain; isolated children become shadows of loneliness.
Illness in adulthood rarely occurs in a vacuum—our bodies record every emotion.
Early maturity in children often stems from the emotional immaturity of their parents.
Harsh discipline and emotional outbursts leave deep imprints, planting seeds for sudden future health crises.
Between love and harm, between love and illness, between love and resentment—many spend their whole lives failing life’s most crucial exam.

In public, it’s not uncommon to witness mothers scolding their children in emotional outbursts.
The child may have misbehaved or fallen short of expectations—but the one truly losing composure is not the child, but the adult.
What do these outbursts reveal? What is a mother trying to communicate when she reprimands her child on the street?
She’s clearly not concerned with how her child feels—so what is she concerned about?

This kind of impatient parenting builds a dysfunctional family dynamic, which often extends into immature doctor-patient relationships later in life.

When doctors face cancer patients, they rarely explore emotional triggers or family upbringing—because that lies beyond clinical scope.
But when the patient is your loved one, what you should care about goes beyond what treatment they’re receiving—you should be asking how they’re handling their emotions.
When someone close to you is going through an emotional low, your role isn’t just to be present—it’s to help them establish emotional boundaries, to stop the silent poison from spreading deeper into their body and soul.

After diagnosis, what can you do beyond helping them find a treatment path?
Life always urges us to “see it coming,” but more often than not, we act like prophets who only speak after the storm has passed.

Polish psychologist Alice Miller spent her life exploring the connection between childhood trauma and adult illness.
Her classic work, The Body Never Lies: The Lingering Effects of a False Childhood, unveils one core truth: most illness holds a secret that was once unspeakable.

This unspeakable truth has many forms: “It’s inconvenient to say,” “I’m afraid to say it,” “I don’t know how to say it,” or “I don’t know who to tell.”
But the most devastating reality is this: many people simply do not realize that these unsaid emotions are the very roots of their long-term disease.

One of humanity’s greatest blind spots is our tolerance for anger.
We assume that anger is natural.
We think expressing it proves authority.
We believe that scolding someone for their mistake is justified, and that once emotions are vented, everything can return to peace.
But what we overlook is that most people never learn how to express their emotions in a healthy way.
And when expression is absent, emotion turns inward.
Over time, repressed emotions can manifest into irreversible physical illnesses.

In summary, between angry parents and children with cancer lies a tangled web of emotional entanglements—complex, yet largely ignored.
What seems like small domestic tension often expands into the far-reaching drama of modern critical care.