Every time I’d come in, he’d ask me the typical questions, then it would get to the sexual questions, these horrible probing questions, that made me hate myself every time they came up. I would sit there, knowing how horrible I was, how what I had done was the worst possible thing I could do. How could I do this, disrespecting God, being put on a pedestal with murderers and rapists? And so, this massive guilt, mixed with a high sexual interest, led to some of the worst years of my life. I would go to school, talk with my friends, make a happy smile, laugh, joke. Then I’d get home, masturbate, and hate myself for the ungodly creature I was. I wasn’t human, no. I was a disgusting thing, not a person.
After 6 months of this, I’d have a terrible meeting, and restart the whole process. My full growth as a human being was stunted, because I was told that I was a horror compared to many of the other members.
Slowly as time went on, I started to think about suicide, or self mutilation when any opportunity came up. “Oh, hey, that’s a car coming down the road. I should probably jump in front of it, get it over with.” I’d be cutting tomatoes and think “I should just use this tonight. Maybe I won’t be able to feel it all if I’m feeling pain.”
Did the bishop mean to affect me in this way? Absolutely not, I think. He was one of the kindest people I’ve ever known. He was doing what he was told, and I don’t blame him for this; he was asked to ask some questions which I don’t think he fully understood the implications of, and didn’t mean to hurt me or others. Because of these events, a year or so of research, I’ve been pulled towards absolute disbelief in the LDS church as a whole, and am now atheist, still struggling with the situation.