Reflections and Nightmares- Irene A Waters (writer and memoirist)

Growing up as a minister’s daughter I was well versed in the ten commandments from an early age. I knew right from wrong and had a well-developed conscience at an early age. My first recollections of thoughts of guilt occurring from a guilty conscience was at the age of six. I used to walk home from school past a green grocer who had hessian sacks full of vegetables sitting on the pavement outside his shop. One day the green beans looked so delicious and fresh that I could not refrain from taking a handful. As I did I heard his call and I ran, not waiting to see the consequences of my action. I was so guilt ridden the beans didn’t make it home or to my mouth as I dropped them in a paddock in my flight. I was breathing hard when I arrived home and went to my room nursing my guilty feelings. Then I saw the police car pull up. I didn’t want to go to jail and I was terrified. The knock came on the door and I could hear my father moving to answer it. I quickly crawled under the bed and lay there hiding long after the policeman had gone. I knew my father would have something to say when he saw me and my father’s quiet reprimands always had more impact on me than Mother getting out the wooden spoon. On hearing the officer had come on a Rotary matter came as a huge relief but those feelings of guilt were enough for me to never steal again.
Somewhere in the intervening years I took on feelings of guilt for things other than things I had done wrong with intent. I allowed my conscience to associate wrong-doing and responsibility as being the same and I would have a guilty conscience for things which I did not do. I must have been the reason someone else did various actions and I felt guilty. My ex-husband told me if I left him he would kill himself. My guilty conscience would not allow me to leave. I would be responsible and I couldn’t live with myself if I did so. Bit by bit I faded as he became increasingly difficult to live with.
I was doing night duty and told the night supervisor some of my concerns. She sent me to the psychiatric unit for a chat with the on-duty nurse there. It was the best thing I have ever done as he said “if he kills himself it is his action. You did not load the gun, give him the knife, tie the knot. He did it. It is his action and his responsibility for the consequences. You cannot be guilty for something you did not do. You can be sad, you can grieve but you are not guilty.” This changed my thinking and allowed me to turn my life around.
I did leave and he didn’t kill himself. I rarely feel guilty these days as I rarely do anything to feel guilty about thanks to that timely advice