What Do I Tell My Bishop?

I have an appointment to see the bishop this week.  The worry over it is making me physically ill.   I think I must have been subconsciously afraid to run into him at church Sunday (which I always do because I am the ward music director and sit behind him every week).  I thought I had the flu, or ate something funny Saturday night.  I think it was anxiety.

What do you tell your relatively new bishop after your husband has left for the third time this year?  (Yeah, I know its only March.)  How deep do you go into the story that has been unfolding for 25 years in one 20 minute appointment?  What kind of detail should he know so that he looks into your heart and sees you?  I need him to see how much I've tried to make this work.  I need him to see how hard I've worked on forgiveness.

Should I list all the physical affairs and sexual encounters?
Should I include the emotional affairs, the sexting, the email photos, the personals, craigslist, dating sites and the porn?

Should I tell him when it started and that it pretty much hasn't ever stopped?

Last time we met,  Bishop said this to me, "There are two sides to every story and somewhere in the middle is the truth."

Yup.  True words.
Maybe even to some degree in my situation.

I'm just curious, what will happen if I play the sex addict card and say,  'yeah, but, ummmmmmm…….'

In 2000, I thought my life, my family, my marriage, was finally settling down.  H and I were back together after a 3 year separation.  We were expecting another child.  H was back at church with us -- every week.  It was supposed to be a happy season.  We'd had some pretty big struggles. We'd waited 11 years for this child.  Things were better, it was time for a season of peace.

But it wasn't.

Relocations, new cities, job issues and losses, babies, miscarriages,  all seemed to impact the long awaited happy season.  Instead it was a long rough patch.

And then it started again.

H was going to school and working two jobs.  We rarely saw each other.  When we did, tension existed between us.  Maybe I was fussy about things.  Maybe he yelled too much.  Some where in the midst of the struggle, instead of coming together to work on fixing things, H took a different route.

I can't even begin to describe the physical pain that shot through me that night I realized H was back at it.  I'd been at a late crop at my store.  I had the kids with me.  H was home, asleep in bed.  I got everyone settled and climbed into bed myself.  Just as I was trying to settle in for the night, I heard the text notification on H's phone.  Who on earth would be texting him at 3:00 in the morning, I wondered. I got out of bed and looked and crumbled to the floor at what I saw.

I don't know who she was or where H met her, but there was pleading, begging, and words that H would never say to me.

I wanted to throw up.

I couldn't sleep.

The next morning I called H out on what I'd discovered last night while he was sound asleep.  It's weird, but even though I could repeat the conversation -- he still denied it.  He still tried to make me out like I was the looney one.

I hate this part of this condition.

The issue didn't' end here and before too long I ferreted out more facts.

I couldn't believe what I was reading on those sex sites.
It was disgusting.
Why would H say that about me?
It made me sick.


I tried to be even more available in the bedroom (because I didn't know what else to do and believed all the lies).

It made it worse.  I felt more objectified.   Suddenly things that weren't part of our normal intimacy became part of it.  I was too afraid to say no.

H and I aren't good at resolution and repair when there bad choices, mistakes,  and shame are involved.

It got worse.

I found more evidence.

I executed an in-house separation.  That sent H over the top.

It just gets uglier from here.
More evidence.
More lies.
More craziness.

It's been this way for years.
Through three bishops.

What do I tell this new one?  How do I tell him so that I don't sound like 'one of those wives'?
I don't want to makes excuses for things. Or justify.

The truth is, H doesn't want to talk about what has really happened and why.  H wants to sweep it under the rug.  He wants me to forget about it.  He wants me to forgive him.  He wants me to love him.

And then he'll stay.
And then he'll be happy.

H has a loud, exuberant, in the center of it all personality.  He's type A.  He is a 30 year retired Navy Senior Chief.  He doesn't take crap from anyone.  He doesn't take second either.

(Oh, and this bishop is a retired navy chief too (more boys club associations.)

I'm the quiet, hid-in-the-corner type.  It's taken a like-minded/like-experienced network of women to pull me out of this cocoon I built around myself.  It wasn't until Addo explained what was happening that I finally found my voice.

I still need to talk to this bishop.
I know he doesn't get it.
I tried once.

I sent him one of those 'letters to a bishop' from the Rowboat site.

Epic fail.

That was the same meeting where he gave me the two sides -- truth in the middle lecture.

Time to pray.  I need someone on my side so that I can share my story in a way Bishop will hear it.