Forgiveness

[Guest guest]

Hi all!

I'm an old timer here and seldom post anymore.

Forgiveness is a topic dear to my heart, so I can't resist responding.

Let me share my experience, for whatever enlightenment it may shed.

Quite by accident, forgiveness became one of the key factors in my

healing journey. I was born and reared Catholic, so I learned that one

must forgive, IF the other person asked for it. What they didn't teach

us was........ what do we do if they won't admit their faults and

errors, be willing to change, and ask for forgiveness?

My hatred, resentment, and bitterness had grown into a mass of tight

muscles, headaches, blah blah blah If Mommie Dearest had admitted her

erring ways and was willing to change, I could have forgiven her. But,

she wouldn't, so I was stuck, forever!

Then one day something dawned on me! It was a couple of years before

she died, and I was at the point of despair. Christ said on the cross,

" I forgive my enemies, for they know not what they do. " Deep within

his heart he forgave his killers, even though he never asked them to

repent, nor did they even know he'd forgiven then, not that they even

cared.

Hmmmmmmmmmmm Why did have to wait for Mommie Dearest to admit to her

problems? Why can't I forgive her in the quiet of my own mind, body,

heart and soul, way down deep where no one else goes, and where no one

would even have to know? If it accomplished nothing, so what? No one

had to know, especially mother! It was worth a try!

Try as I did, I could not say the words, " I forgive you, mother, for you

know not what you do " . It was impossible. But, I kept at it..........

while driving, while fixing dinner, while bathing, while lying in bed at

night........... A week later, those four came out, and I cried and

cried. I kept at it, and as the weeks and months passed, I slowly began

to feel less tense, less scared, less hateful, less resentful, less

bitter, and more at peace. It was a very slow process, but it worked.

In fact, I reached a point when I didn't dare stop, because I was afraid

I'd snap back to the way I used to be. Horrors!

To this day, no one knows that I forgave mother, not even mother

herself. She took all her hatred, bitterness and resentment to the

grave with her. She never even looked back, not even on her death bed.

That's how stubborn and tenacious BPD personalities are, and how

hopeless it is to expect they'll change. But, we don't have to be tied

to THEIR choices anymore, not now, or after they've died. It's never

too late to privately say, " I forgive you, mother. " Forgiveness is

eternal.

Best wishes to all,

Carol M