Sarah Nyhan

I woke up to thoughts of child sexual abuse.  Thirty-seven years old and my brain is still is trying to work out the past and understand.  I want to be done with the trial and move on.  Not have it identify me and haunt me.  I have a feeling is not going to go away until I face it fully.  Until I write it out and share it.  First with my family.  Since they all want to talk about me.  Then Jonathan, Bethany, and Taqui since they all want to talk about me.  Then Dr. Schaffer, Dianne, Jeff Pirtle, the counselor in Austin, maybe Shira, Julie, Paula, Maria, Becky C, Debbie F.  Maybe the ladies in Maryann’s class.  We shall see.  How will I have the time to write, Father?  I pray for strength to get healthy.  And possibly, if it’s your best plan, help Dr. R and MaryAnn publish so I’m free to write.  Make Taqui, Jonathan, and Bethany pay for the story.  Make them buy it online.  Probably won’t send it to Bethany.  Don’t want anything to do with her.  Bake a wakeup call in regards to believing my intuition.  Don’t wait until they’re slapping you in the face.  Taqui is a punk if he didn’t text me to meet up for breakfast this week like he said.  Maybe I didn’t get the text.  But I’m not going to chase him.  No way.  Maybe that just happened so I’d have another reason not to like him.  Looking back, Jonathan’s heart already betrayed me and switch to Bethany after that dream of sorts that I had.  That deep deep feeling I had maybe even a year before the end.  Maybe in retrospect he was working me the whole time just to get information about her because he thought we were friends.  Maybe that’s why he kept bringing her name up.  I could see him doing that.  I’m still so mad at him for betraying me like he did.  What goes around comes back around.  I betrayed Bethany’s confidence so I probably deserved it.  Father, I pray for forgiveness for the wrong things I did an all that mess.  I pray we all get straightened out.  I pray you will please help me move on if it is your will.  I pray you will please help me get healthy.  I pray you will please help me tell the story of my experience.  I pray it would be used for good.  I pray you would please help me tell the truth and communicate the emotions of it all.  Or communicate what you want me to communicate.  At the same time I feel like you gave me direction to tell my story my way.  I pray you will please help me do that.  I feel like I’m carrying a whole other person around with me because that part is not integrated fully into who I present to the world.  So much to say.  I wonder if I won’t lose the weight until I tell the story.  I want to tell it before Dr. Schaffer dies.  Please, Father.  I hope she will be alive to read it.  I pray you would please help me not to be deceived, Father.  I pray to know the real you and all the lies to be exposed by your light.