I hate that my blog posts seem to be so negative.  I don't mean them to be that way.  Today it was so rough.  Last night, I tried to prepare myself for the Sabbath day.  My Bishop doesn't like it when I say that I can't so all night long I kept pondering what was another way to say how I felt.  The best way I could describe it is that I just did not have any more strength.  Yesterday, I didn't even go to the grocery store.  I literally went on my walk, went to the dentist, stopped by GNC and then came home, showered and stayed inside the rest of the day.  I even took a 2 hour nap, I didn't nap very well because my mind was constantly running.  I can't tell you when it was last that I had a good night's sleep.  Some times the only reason why I don't wake up in the middle of the night is because of the Benadryl that I take before I go to bed.  Even as I lay in bed, my husband asked if I was becoming addicted to the Benadryl.  I advised him that my family Dr had ok'd it (which is true!  He is actually the one that gave me the idea!). 

So, why was Sunday so rough for me.  This last flashback totally threw me for a loop.  To be honest, my husband even turned to me at Noon and asked if I was going to church.  I advised him that I didn't know, I laid down on my bed, I totally felt that I just could not do it.  I didn't even care that my therapist was repeating in my head that not taking the Sacrament was "self injury".  I can't tell you how many times I heard his voice.  In my head, I wondered how I was ever going to feel worthy after I had seen what I had seen.  I was late for church, the only reason why I actually got there was because I had made a commitment to teach my Sunday School class, and I did not have a substitute.  I sat in the foyer, and honestly, I hoped that I had missed the Sacrament, but I didn't.  So, when that young man stood in front of me, I cried.  In my head, I just couldn't do it, I just couldn't take the Sacrament, but in my heart, I so needed it.  I listened to my heart, and cried.  I hoped in my heart that the Lord would know how hard I have tried to live my entire life to have his spirit.  I also listened to my therapist again when he told me that the Bishop is the one that would tell me if I was not worthy to take the Sacrament.  So, I did take the Sacrament but I did go thru two kleenex before I even got into the chapel. 

I taught my lesson in Sunday School.  My class is awesome and they give me more strength than they could ever know.  Then it was Relief Society, another lesson on the Temple.  Wow, did I want to crawl into my hole?  I just had to stay focused on not getting into my head, but to be honest, I tuned so much of it out.  I think I read scriptures more than I listened.

The time had come for me to go and visit with the Bishop.  Bless his heart, he was even prepared with two boxes of kleenex.   The roughest part of our talk was when I disclosed to him the details of my flashback.  It's not something that you want anyone that ever knows you personally to know about you.  I didn't want anyone to know, but I felt awful, as I said before I felt like I needed to repent.  I don't understand any of this, and I have never needed to actually go to the Bishop to repent but I didn't want to feel like this anymore.  I felt like I had gone thru my entire life and lied every time I had a temple recommend interview because I never repented for something that happened to me 30 years ago.  I also know that the Lord has called him to be the Judge for our Ward at this time.  It was the hardest thing I have ever done.  To be honest, disclosing to your therapist is nothing compared to disclosing to your Bishop. 

We talked for over an hour.  He was very loving, and for that I will always be eternally grateful.  When all was said and done, I asked for a Priesthood blessing.  It was a beautiful blessing and gave me strength.  The sad thing is, this flashback was the missing link.  This flashback is the one that opened up my eyes to why I didn't feel worthy.  I fought so hard to keep this portion of the flashback hidden.  I hope I don't have to share the details of this flashback with any more people.  Even as I told the Bishop, I had to look away and  take some deep breaths because I thought I would throw up.  The Bishop even moved the garbage can close.   Thankfully, my deep breathing techniques worked and the nauseous feeling passed. 

I now need to learn who I am.  As the Bishop explained, this is a part of me, and it will be forever.  It will be like a scar that you know is there but eventually, the scar doesn't hurt.  I'll still have gentle reminders my whole life about my past, but it won't hurt any more.