Article December 17, 2012 Issue

Healing after abuse and heartache

Name withheld

When I left home right out of high school, I was starting a new chapter in my life. It was scary and exciting all at the same time, but I needed to put some distance between myself and memories I wanted to forget. 

As a child, I was mentally and sexually abused by one of my parents. I attended Sunday School for my entire childhood (one parent was a Christian Scientist), but I often wondered if this ever-present God of love whom I had learned about, and His protection, even existed. Having learned about the path one was expected to follow, in my young mind, I wasn’t “pure” enough to call myself a Christian Scientist. I felt I did not quite live up to the standards for inclusion in the church—standards that I thought were pretty much set in stone for this religion. I saw myself as a sinner, even though not by personal choice. So, with the feeling that I had no other option, I put my spiritual growth on hold and explored what else life had to offer.

It’s embarrassing to have thought that I could find happiness in submerging myself totally in a materialistic way of life. For several years I indulged in smoking, drinking, and occasionally used marijuana and cocaine. Being young and naive, I was only confused and disillusioned, looking for something, anything, I could really believe in. I learned the hard way that all material pleasures are only temporary and never lasting. The initial pleasure you imagine you are getting is not worth the pain and suffering it brings. I lost more than I ever gained in a few years of selfish materialism. 

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