The path to forgiveness

By: Anonymous 17 year old female from NSW.

I had always been able to cope with the turbulence in my life created by the stress of school, arguments with my parents, social discord and what not. By seventeen I had come to learn that there was nothing to do but come to accept these matters and adjust.

I had always been very awkward, never being able to find my niche in school, or feel completely at ease at home with my family- I had come to a point where I believed that there just wasn't anything better... Was there?

In Year 11, I finally made some friends. My parents also became more accepting of teenage needs, and I began to go out- running the City2Surf, a Switchfoot concert, bbqs and parties. It was a life I had never known, but began to savour. I knew at the time that I would look back on it recognising it as the best times in my life. It was simply just amazing, but I knew that being so good, there was nowhere else to go but down. And when I did, I crashed.

Why wasn't I ever really comfortable at home? It comes down to the fact that I was always afraid. My parents were forever fighting, and at a young age, I had learnt to be scared when it happened. The sound would resonate in our small home, and everyone- aunt, uncle, brothers and grandma alike would cringe. And invariably, I did too.

But late in 2005 it was becoming worse than normal. The screams were becoming louder, the bangs of things being thrown, then the echoing silence. Deafening, engulfing the air around me.

Later that night, my dad, in a hoarse whisper, told me to call the ambulance because he couldn't breathe. Shaken, I made the call. They came. My mum and uncle went with the ambulance. I staid at home, shaking and breaking.

This was to happen twice. Each time, at the hospital, I was left to try and discern some meaning of these incidents.

I soon found out. One day, my dad decided to approach me with the truth. He had always earnestly hid matters from me, believing that it was for the best. I really do see why now.

He showed me a piece of paper. On it, it had a listing of cheques and transactions. He told me, in a dead voice, it was an account of my mum's gambling.

He then translated the document for me. He told me that basically, my mum had been gambling for the last three years and had thrown our family into great debt. My parent's life savings, mortgage, bank credits were gone.

Everything. The figure was astronomical. Not only that, but it was a sure thing that we would never be able to recover our finances, and our way of living was to change forever.

From that point on, my life changed. My perspective transformed for the worse; now much more cynical and scathing, my trust broken, my love was non existent.

At first, I hid it from everyone. But I was dying. My insides were a rush of turmoil, and I was infected with the belief that I would never recover. Home is where the hurt is sings Robbie Williams follow your heart. I cried, as I did often. So often, too often.

I finally went to counselling. I had to, I was suffering in every way, and my life had plummeted too.

I've never condoned counselling. I used to be adamant that, whatever I encountered in my life, then I should be able to make it. My own way. 

But counselling helped. Maybe to just spill out my problems to someone I didn't feel guilty burdening. And after every session, after I had cried and sobbed and heaved... I felt relieved. If not to help, maybe counselling is simply about the cathartic effect it has.

As a practising Christian, I was profoundly affected by the prospects of learning to forgive everyone regardless. I had thought it would be humbling to me, and help shape me into a better person. Now though, the heavy weight in the pit of my stomach prevents me from forgiving. It strangles me to the bitter and angry feelings I've been harbouring.

I feel like she betrayed us in every way. I used to cry about the fact that she would do this to our family. Cause my dad this pain. He's still recovering from his strokes.

I hated her for stealing away a comfortable future from my brothers and me. I couldn't get over her greed and apparent disdain. Her selfishness that spoke volumes for every time she stole money away.

It's been months now, and I'm still waiting for my epiphany. Something that would help me get over this. Is there a designated waiting period, how much longer do I have to wait? I used to think.

But my boyfriend told me, it's not something you get over, it's something you grow from.

And so, I'm growing. Slowly maybe, but still.