My problems all started just over five years ago. I will never forget my first day of high school. It was a warm summer’s morning, the sun was shining and there was not a cloud in the sky. Everything seemed perfect. Just metres from the school gates I suddenly felt a sharp crippling pain in my chest. I began to panic and struggled to breathe. No matter what I did I couldn’t seem to get the air I needed into my lungs. I was coughing and wheezing uncontrollably and felt a wave of light-headedness come over me. I didn’t know what was happening and was utterly terrified. I collapsed in a heap on the grass.
The next thing I remember is coming to on a stretcher with an oxygen mask on my face as they wheeled me into the back of an ambulance. The rest of the school looked on in the background.
“You’ve had an asthma attack,” my specialist told me later. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to keep you in here for a few more days until we have your asthma under control.” Everything seemed so overwhelming. I had never had to take any medications in my life before and now I had four different asthma puffers to use! Two in the morning, one at night and another one for during the day if I needed it.
Little did I know the worst news was yet to come. My parent’s marriage had always had its ups and downs. They seemed to argue an awful lot but according to my friends this was normal. My Dad finally decided that enough was enough and made the decision to leave. By the time I arrived home from hospital he had already gone. I was absolutely devastated! I felt like my whole world had come to an end.
Returning to school was hard. I felt like a bit of an outcast as I wasn’t able to participate in any school camps or sports as a result of my condition. I was shy and had made few new friends. I struggled with my school work and was depressed about my parents’ separation.
For the next couple of years I was in and out of hospital with chronic asthma. Every time I would have a bad asthma attack my parents would draw close to each other for support. Each time I would pray that they’d get back together again and that things would go back to the way they were. On occasion my father did come back home, only to leave again a few days or weeks later. My heart would break all over again.
Over time I began to resent my father and decided that I wanted nothing more to do with him. I had made my mind up that he was to blame for everything. I stopped talking to him and no longer went to visit him on weekends. Secretly it killed me to do this but this was my way of dealing with things.
Before long I was in Year 12 and studying hard to complete my HSC. I was just weeks away from sitting my final exams when more bad news came. One day after school while studying, a quiet knock came on my bedroom door. It was my mother. She sat down on my bed and started to cry. “Your father and I have decided to finalise things,” she told me. “Darling, I don’t know if you realise but it’s now been 12 months since we first saw our solicitors. The divorce will be finalised within a month.”
She paused for a moment and then continued, “I know that you and your father are not close anymore and it saddens me more than you will ever know. He’s respected your wishes and has not contacted you but he wants to see you one last time. He wanted me to tell you that he has gotten a new job. Your Dad will be permanently relocating overseas.”
The news was like a knife in the heart. I was absolutely shattered. My dreams of my parents getting back together were now over. I hated myself for how I had treated my father. I didn’t want my Dad to relocate overseas. Some drastic action had to be taken!
In the days leading up to my final exam I stopped taking my asthma medication. I had noticed that I was coughing and wheezing a lot more than usual but had suffered no serious side effects. Then on the morning of my exam as I slipped out the door I grabbed two cigarettes from my mother’s briefcase. I fumbled around in the school toilets not knowing what to do. After attempting to smoke the first cigarette I was coughing and wheezing so heavily that I flushed away the second one. My plan was working.
I barely made it to the exam room without collapsing. I never made it inside as my teacher led me to the front office and an ambulance was called.
Once again my family reunited while I was in hospital. My father was due to leave the country less than a week after my final exam. He decided not to take the new position overseas and remained in his old job. I longed to wrap my arms around my father and tell him how sorry I was for everything. We’ve been working on our relationship and have gotten to know each other all over again.
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