My Former Life As A Jehovah's Witness Child

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I am not going to lie and say my ENTIRE life as a child was awful. In fact, I would say I had a pretty good childhood in spite of what happened. Everyone has some childhood trauma in the recesses of their minds, but as an adult, you want to learn from mistakes made to avoid putting it on your own children.

I don't blame my mother for what happened. She is as much of a victim of it as I was. My parents did the best they could with what they had. When it came to the Jehovah's Witnesses, they were not united. My father was dead set against it. My mother was completely mesmorized by this group and no one could tell her this group was not "The Truth."

I know all about the secret of my birth. It was a big secret my parents kept in order to avoid some so-called shame of the era - my mother was pregnant with me before she got married. My mom was only 19 and living in a third world country. My dad only had a sixth grade education and had to work the minute he left school. Had they stayed in Jamaica, they knew life would be much too hard.

So, only a few months before I was born, my mother exercised her right to come back to the United States where she was born and married my father. I was born in Chicago in 1966.

My mother came from a broken, dysfunctional home, but so do many other people. Her parents married and had a lot more kids than they could handle and they divorced. The family was split up. The older kids were shipped off to a boarding school. The rest were sent to my great-grandmother. My grandmother had a nervous breakdown and my grandfather was not there for any of the kids.

My mom, aunt and uncle were raised in Jamaica where my great-grandmother was living. My grandmother was also there and trying to get her life back together, but was so hurt over the divorce that she never would trust or connect with other people for the rest of her life.

My father's side of the family was pretty normal in comparison. Although the discipline methods used would be considered abusive by today's standards and my grandfather would be prone to hit my grandmother, there was still plenty of love and togetherness. They strongly believed a family was forever.

When my parents came to Chicago in 1966, they were pretty poor and lived with family members. They resided in the South Side of Chicago which was not too far from the projects. Our family is a multiracial family with just about every racial and ethnic culture somewhere in the works. My parents are light-skinned, what one would have said at the time, "light enough to pass." However, the times being what they were, my birth certificate had me labeled as "Negro," which was supposed to determine my "place" in society. Back then, they wouldn't even acknowledge the rich ethnicity of my Native-American, or Scottish, or Asian roots. All that mattered back then is more than half of my blood is African-American and that is what society would call me.

With this kind of background, you might be able to understand why my mother did what she felt compelled to do.

She was only 19, a newlywed, pregnant and living with family, far from a place where she was raised. She left behind some of her family and all of her friends. My father was busy working hard at a job that was rather dangerous, but the only one he could get with his skills and education. He was hardly at home.

This is not what my mom pictured her life to be. As every girl dreams, you have a nice wedding and then you and your "Prince Charming" go off to your own home and then live happily ever after. Instead, she was crowded in with well-meaning relatives who would give their two cents whether she wanted to hear it or not. She had no real freedom and didn't really feel "at home," but a permanent guest at their mercy.

My father worked really hard so they could afford a home of their own. When my mom was pregnant with my sister, they were ready to move. They found a quaint townhome where we lived for a few years. It was a nice area. We had pretty good neighbors. However, my mom was still feeling the stress of the reality of grown up life with children, especially since all the help she had living with her family was gone.

In order to keep up with the expenses, my dad took another job which paid a little more, but took more time away from his family. At least we had some financial security. My mom was just too stressed out trying to be the perfect wife and mother. She didn't want to be like her parents and was going after an unrealistic expectation. She could not confide in anyone as this would mean admitting she was less than perfect. And although the neighbors were nice, she still felt out of place. So she felt so lonely and out of control.

One day, she was approached by the Jehovah's Witnesses. They befriended her and told her of promises of a better world based on their interpretations of the Bible. They invited my mom to attend meetings and a free "Bible" study. She was exposed to the surface image they present, one they call "Jehovah's happy people." The kids were perfectly quiet and still during the long meetings and polite. The sisters were friendly and invited her places. The brothers were strong and seemed to be powerful men of authority. They seemed to have all the answers which could be explained "biblically" through the literature the Watchtower And Bible Track Society produces.

My mother is not a gullible person. She is rather intelligent. She just had the misfortune of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Young, lonely, and vulnerable. Alone most of the time with two small children and feeling like a failure and being punished by God. They come by with the premise of having all the answers from God, a future paradise where everything will be good, and real, lasting friendships with like-minded, God fearing people who were tighter than family. She wasn't particularly religious before then, but strongly believed in God, she just had no solid foundation in any faith. She wanted to raise her children in a religion and give us a proper upbringing. At the time, it seemed the right thing to do.

My father really didn't know much about this group other than they were the people who would bother other people and preach at them. He didn't want any part of it, but as it made my mom happy, he went along with her decision to follow it and raise my sister and me in it. He made it clear that he did not want us to go door to door or to have any of the members preach at him.

To most people, one thinks a church is a place you go one or two times a week, it makes you feel good, gives you a set of principles to live by, then you go about your life. Members of most churches are allowed freedom of thought and expression. While members of a typical church believe in core principles, they can freely disagree with others on many points without fear of being cast out or punishment. A member of a typical church can dress how they feel, read books they like, watch a movie or television show that appeals to them, associate with anyone they like, in other words, a member of any other typical church has free will without fear. A member of the Jehovah's Witnesses does not have that luxury.

From the first moment of you accepting a "Bible" study, you are being conditioned to think and respond in the approved manner. The study is not even really from a Bible, but a book that keeps the "study" (person who is getting the free "Bible" study) focused only on the paragraph, not allowing any free thought beyond what is put forth. One or two scriptures may be cited in the paragraph which may or may not be looked up depending on who is conducting the study. Even if you were to look up the scriptures during the study, you are not allowed to go beyond those scriptures to see a bigger picture. The scripture cited is only to hammer the point made in the paragraph. As far as they are concerned, no other points or concerns are related to that particular paragraph.

I liken this "Bible" study to a trick used by con artists who want you to do something for them. They distract the mark by giving them a promise of riches, but will not let the mark see anything other than what they want them to see, even if there are warning flags going off all over the place. The con artist blinds the victim from their purpose until the mark does what the con artist wants.

This is the essence of the "Bible" study, the brainwashing process. Out of fear, mere politeness, peer pressure, or curiosity, the study goes along with the plan. It may take an entire chapter or two, or the study may get the idea fairly early in the first paragraph, but eventually they know not to go beyond the paragraphs at hand. They learn it is not acceptable to answer the scripted questions at the bottom in their own words, but to only use the words directly in the paragraph. Free thought and free expression are promptly quashed. The "Bible" study gets one to think exactly like the rest of the group.

Then, like everyone else, my mother was brought to the fear factor for not ever questioning the group. Although they will now deny it, back then 1975 was the big year the end was to come. There were very graphic books and films they showed to drive that point across. If you were not one of Jehovah's chosen people, you would die a horrible death and your corpse would be left for carrion animals to eat. It would be foolish to argue now as time was short. You did not want to risk being on the wrong side just because you didn't understand something, so it was best to keep silent and go along with it.

Then came in the loyalty pressure. They instill in the followers that it is an "us against the evil Satanic world." Either you are for Jehovah or for Satan. Anyone who is for Jehovah will follow the instructions given to Jehovah's appointed leaders at the Watchtower and Bible Track Society. To even dare question whatever comes from the literature is akin to questioning Jehovah! Sure, the belief may change completely from time to time, but as one of Jehovah's people you have to accept the "new light" and forget the old teachings as if they never happened.

You also quickly learn the social pecking order. As you are forced to choose between the world or Jehovah's people, if you want to survive the end you have to end your outside social life. That even includes non-Jehovah's Witness family members. This leaves a void in your life. If everyone on the outside is under the evil influence of Satan and could infect you, you can't be with them. That leaves only members of the Jehovah's Witnesses to associate. When you finally come to that place, you finally see not all Witnesses are equal.

There are the "strong" Witnesses and the "weak" Witnesses. If you don't want to be on the bottom of the pecking order, you want to keep from being a "weak" Witness.

A "weak" or spiritually weak Witness is one who does not attend meetings on a regular basis, devotes less than 10 hours a month at door to door service, and acts "worldly." As long as the "weak" person is not "disfellowshipped" or "on reproof" then the rest of the members can have limited association with such ones. If they are "disfellowshipped," they are treated as if they were dead. You are to have NOTHING to do with them. If "on reproof," they are not as untouchable, but considered just as dangerous on a spiritual level. The hardcore "strong" members look down on such people as "being on the fence."

When one hears reports of a Jehovah's Witness committing some heinous crime, it is usually that element of the spiritually weak ones who are on the fence. They have a hard time choosing one side or another and don't feel as if they fit in anywhere which leads them to a harsh life and sometimes crime. Others who are on the fence seldom admit in public they are members of the group which give outsiders the false notion that one can lead a normal life and be a Jehovah's Witness. What they don't realize is those on the fence are not really considered to be real Jehovah's Witnesses. If they do anything to embarrass the group, they are promptly kicked out.

In the "strong" camp, there are many cliques and levels of commitment. At the very least, you can be a "publisher," which is one who makes most of the meetings, studies, and puts in at least the minimal door to door time. This is the majority of the "strong" camp. Those who devote more time towards the service of the ministry is considered stronger and given more respect. One can become a "Pioneer" on one of many levels depending on how much time they can devote. If a brother, you can move up the local congregational ladder by being a "Ministerial Servant" or an "Elder." And if the brother is into playing the politics of the religion can become one of the levels of "Overseer." Then there is the career level of Bethel or Gilead service where you get to leave home and serve the worldwide concerns of the ministry. If you are one of the chosen few, you might just be one of the 144,000 who not only go to heaven, but are allowed to partake of the bread and wine at Memorial. And it takes a very special person to make it to the big time - The Board aka The Governing Body, which is really a corporate level position that makes all the rules for the members.

One also learns quickly in the "strong" group they have privileges not afforded to others, especially for the brothers. If an otherwise "strong" brother is a drunk, adulterer, child or wife abuser, or molesting children, their demons are covered up. If a spousal abuser, often the wife will be told to be a better Witness and not to aggravate the husband. With children, the family is encouraged to study more. With sexual abuse, the victim is discouraged from getting outside help in order to protect the brother. And as long as the drunk is able to hide the problem and keep up with meetings and service, they act as if nothing is wrong.

Once you are schooled into the reality of the world of Jehovah's Witnesses, you are taught to fear the outside world. While you might start to feel fear on the inside of the group because you may make a mistake which will put you as an outcast, you fear being left on the outside when the world could end anytime soon.

My mom went along with the whole thing. She was hooked and could not see what it was doing to her. She was even more determined to make her family survive the end. This sometimes made her act in ways that were physically or verbally abusive. She just wanted to make sure we were doing the right things at all times. I understand that now, but back then I always felt as if I would never be good enough for Jehovah and would be destroyed at the end. At times, my mom would blame my behavior as to why my father wouldn't join and laid the guilt on me that if he died it would be my fault. She would sometimes say to me how she wishes I were never born or how she hated me. When I would not live up to her expectations, she would give me the silent treatment and most of the time I wouldn't know why she was mad at me.

Eventually, 1975 came and went. Nothing happened. The official word was this was just a test due to some overzealous brothers jumping the gun. Some misguided people misunderstood the words in the Watchtower and that no one knows the exact date and time of the end. This made many disgruntled Witnesses. Although many were disgruntled, they were still strongly brainwashed into it. Many who were strong were now on the fence. That included my mom and most of her friends. At certain times when there was a visit from an Overseer or an assembly or Memorial, my mom would be "strong" again and force us to go along. Other times, she would go back to being a normal mom. "Strong" mom was a very scary person. "Weak" mom was very lovable. The mixed messages really screwed me up mentally.

At least in school, many of the kids were familiar with Jehovah's Witnesses. They didn't treat me badly because of it. They accepted the fact that there were certain things I couldn't do such as celebrate holidays, go to their parties, have birthdays, salute the flag, vote or run for student government, or join activities. That was fine until I was forced to be bussed.

After a summer of a very inspiring assembly, my mom was once again "strong" and encouraged me to study. One of the people who offered to study with me was my mom's best friend who was a pioneer. She had kids who were close in age to my sister and me and we were good friends with them. During the summer, she would babysit us while my mom worked. She babysat with us on and off from the time I was 9.

There were times during the summer that she was not at home and her husband would be watching us. To gloss over a very painful part of my life, he molested me and eventually had sex with me. I was only 9 when he started, but it intensified by the time I was 11. In the beginning, it was merely touching and his trying to get my confidence. Over time the touching went farther and farther until it came to sex by the time I was 11. I felt guilty and hated myself. I wanted to kill myself. I also did not want him to do the same thing to my sister or hurt my family, so I kept the secret as he told me to do.

I did not want to develop breasts and noticed by staying skinny I wouldn't grow there. I did not want to even talk about sex, boys, or dating and to deny I was going to be a woman. I wanted to distance myself from other girls who were talking about such things and would deny knowing anything about sex. I had a big chip on my shoulder about getting close to anyone.

I was thankful when summer was over and did not want to even think about what happened. It was a relief to go to the neighborhood school, but the new school was not. When I got off the bus into a real nightmare. We were not wanted. Parents and kids were yelling at us. Someone threw a rock at me. I wanted to get back on the bus, but was forced to get to school.

I went to my assigned classroom. Then I did something that no one understood. The school I went to was not only all white, but mostly Catholic. My teacher was a former nun. There has never been a Jehovah's Witness in the school before. I was the only one there. When my teacher asked everyone to stand up to salute the flag, I politely raised my hand and told her I couldn't participate and told her the standard things which I could not do and why. She rolled her eyes and everyone laughed at me. I sat down and everyone went along with the Pledge. Let's just say I had a lot of spit balls in my hair and heard many mean comments before being sent home.

During my two years at that school, I was an outcast who was bullied and verbally as well as physically assaulted. I was also suppressing what happened to me during that summer. And due to all that was going on, I kept to myself and my mom kept accusing me of being on drugs or doing something evil. I couldn't deal with life. I felt if the end was coming, I would never survive anyway. I felt alone and unloved. I took an overdose of asprin, but only got really sick and no one noticed. That was also when I developed the bad habit of cutting on myself. An elder noticed it a few times and had a private talk with me about it. He said that people who were pagans did such things in the Bible and I should not be like them. He then told me to cover it up.

When I finally reached high school, I think I finally was successful at suppressing the trauma. I was able to learn to have a happy face at all times. After all, I was supposed to be one of Jehovah's happy people and had to look the part even if I was dying on the inside.

My mom forced me to destroy the stuff I gathered in trying to learn about other religions and forced me to promise that no matter what happened I would never leave "The Truth". I did out of fear and love. If she were to leave, I would never leave. If tortured, I would never leave. Even if it meant my death, I would never leave. I feared what would happen if I spoke up to my mom and tell her I had doubts about the religion. I also wanted my mother to love me and saw that the only way that would happen is if I were a good Jehovah's Witness. In the back of my mind, I wanted to make the ultimate sacrifice in hopes that she would finally love me. I hoped that I would be put in a situation that could mean my death to prove my loyalty to Jehovah. Pretty twisted isn't it?

Although I made that promise to my mom, we were both on the fence. I wanted to be a good Witness and refrained from the evils of holidays, politics, and getting too close to "worldly" people. I was also drawn to the "worldly" people. I didn't see how Jehovah could be so mean to destroy such people I have come to know. They didn't really seem evil to me. I wanted to fit in, but couldn't quite cross over. I would go behind my parent's back and join activities, but could never really commit to it for fear of displeasing Jehovah. Many kids wrote me off as a flake. At least they were not hostile and I was thankful for that.

After I grew up, I learned exactly what was happening to me. When you go through a traumatic event, if you don't deal with it, it eats you up inside. I had this tape going off in my head constantly replaying the trauma of what my mom was doing, being molested and raped, the abuse at the hands of other kids. I would self-medicate. My mom was already accusing me of doing drugs, so I figured why not start! I had a lot of allergies and would take medicine to deal with it and learned it had a calming affect on that tape, so I would buy them and take them. It would make my heart race and skip a beat at times. What felt like a heart condition was the side effects of taking an over the counter drug and an eating disorder which had me underweight.

Trust me when I say this, but if you have a tape going off in your head that constantly reminds you of things you don't want to think about and letting you know you are no good, you tend to want to do anything to quiet that tape.

The end was always near. At one assembly they told all us kids in the audience that the world would end before the youngest member in the audience would graduate. That was 1976. A baby at that assembly is over 25 years old! During that time, if anyone gave up to the "end of the world soon" mentality could miss out on a lot in this time. A child could be deprived of a higher or quality education or career path. An adult may not have planned to save for old age during those crucial years. An elderly person who may have avoided loved ones because the religion told them to stay away may have passed on without a chance to reconcile.

I didn't have a clue back then that the world would still be around this long and felt school was a waste of time. I just knew the world was going to end and I would die in it. I wanted it to be over. By the time of my Junior year in high school, I tried to forget I was a Jehovah's Witness. My best friend was a nice boy who was raised Catholic. I was in love with him, but could never tell him that. He was the only person at the time I would even let somewhat inside my world. Even he didn't know the extent of my hell, but he was my savior at the time. I had more confidence in myself than at any other time in my life. A quarter of a century can pass by really fast!

With a newfound sense of confidence and an enjoyable school year, I made a decision based on what I needed instead of what was expected. My parents wanted to move out of state and they thought it would happen in the middle of my Senior year. They gave me the option to move with my aunt and start my senior year or to stay and move in the middle. The man who raped me gave me the answer to my choice. Just when I thought he was through with me, he stopped by my house when he knew my parents weren't home. When I wouldn't let him in, he tried to force his way in, but I slammed the door on him and locked it.

I think my mom took my decision to move with my aunt personally. It never was about not loving her, but to escape the hell that wouldn't go away. Even my best friend tried to talk me into staying, but I couldn't tell him why I wouldn't.

My aunt had temporary custody of my sister and me. We went to school in Colorado. I thrived on the freedom my aunt allowed us to have. My sister missed home. By Christmas break, she wanted to come back home. School was still in session in Chicago when we were on break, so I went to my old school to visit. I talked to my friends and tried to get closure. I thought it would be okay to be alone without my sister. I really missed her.

The good grades I had started to drop. I was feeling lonely and depressed until I talked to a girl in my choir class who was also a Jehovah's Witness on the fence. We bonded as friends. She introduced me to the other two JWs in the school. I started to attend meetings with them. I wasn't sure what I wanted, but before coming back to Colorado, my mom made me promise to start going to meetings and to study. I thought this was a sign.

Going back to meetings on a regular basis made that tape start up again. I didn't want to acknowledge it. My psychology teacher noticed there was something wrong and referred me to the school counselor who asked me point blank if I was molested. Instead of answering, I ran out of her office. Word got back to my aunt and then to my mom. I was really suicidal and attempted suicide by taking an overdose of pills. No one knew, but I was really sick. I tried several times at school, but could never take enough to do anything more than get me stoned out of my mind.

By the time I graduated, I committed to the idea of getting baptized. My father wanted me to go to college and I wanted to please him. I thought it would be okay to walk both sides of the fence. I told my mom about my plans to get baptized. She said something strange, to think carefully about it before I did that and to make sure that was what I wanted. I thought she would be happy for me, but she wasn't. I found out she was exposed to apostate literature and told I should avoid her and not to listen to anything she said against the religion.

I went ahead with the study and was introduced to a couple who would help me while at college. They were like parents to me and I loved them dearly. They studied with me and encouraged me in a loving way. I felt safe and secure with them. The congregation they attended was nice. I loved the fact that I would be in that world.

College was scary. With all that I was taught about the end, how evil they were, and misleading historical facts, I could never get fully into the lessons. I was living in a co-ed dorm which partied three days a week. I tried as much as possible to avoid them, but not always successful. I was the youngest person in the dorm and very naive. There were two guys on my floor who took pleasure in exploiting that factor in me. The most severe thing they did was a stupid dare.

I was in their dorm room with other people. They dared me to drink straight whiskey in a large 72 ounce cup. The dare was for me to gulp the whole thing down without taking a breath. I did it only to get them to stop teasing hoping that if I failed they would leave me alone. Half-way, I stopped. They filled it up again and said they wouldn't let me leave until I did it. I wanted to get it over with, so I drank it.

I had no real experience in hard alcohol. I was only 17 and weighed 125 pounds. I did not know what it felt like to be drunk or that if one drank too much alcohol it could kill them. I was close to death, but survived. I was supposed to go over my last set of questions before baptism that weekend, but almost blew it. They saw how sorry I was and knew I would never do that again, so they proceeded with the baptism interview. I went in already feeling like I didn't deserve to be there.

I was privately asked by a couple of elders about an incident from another congregation where the husband of a pioneer molested me. I was advised to forget about it and to not mention it. Humbly, I agreed to forget it.

A week after my baptism, I went to my dorm room. A person I casually knew followed me. He came to my door and asked if I could study with him. He claimed to want to be a Jehovah's Witness. I let him in my room. The floor was rowdy as it was one of those loud parties. When I turned my back, he pulled out a knife and started to rape me. I felt it was my fault and I was to blame, so I didn't want to tell anyone, but I confided in another girl in my congregation who told me not to tell anyone as I might be harshly punished. I kept it quiet. I also decided to drop out.

When the semester ended, I packed all my things and took them to my grandmother's house where I spent some time before going to Chicago. When I went home, I found out my mother no longer considered herself a Jehovah's Witness and was trying to get me to read apostate material. I refused, even when she told me what happened when she went to the elders about what happened. They basically told her to forget about it as it is a he said/she said situation that could stumble him from ever coming into "The Truth" and besides, if that happened it was partially my fault. I accepted that judgement and refused to question it. That also ate me up inside as I was hiding the fact that I was raped and pregnant.

I told my best friend from high school about the rape at college and that I was pregnant. He wanted to be noble and marry me, but I didn't want to drag him down into the big mess I was in, so I told him I miscarried to take any pressure off him. He had a future and could do anything he wanted in life. I would mess that up for him. I hoped he would hate and forget me. I went back to Colorado and attempted suicide and was no longer pregnant. No one else knew.

The couple who took me under their wings were disappointed in me and asked me to stay with them. I moved in with them and got "strong" in it. I became a Pioneer and wanted to go to Gilead. They built me up, but due to pressure from my family, I left and moved in with my grandmother and great-grandmother. I still attended meetings and was a Pioneer, but now my family was able to keep tabs on me.

I went from a congregation that was full of love and support to one that was cold and cliquish. I wanted to fit in, but never felt accepted. The people close to my age wanted nothing to do with me. My crowd was the Pioneers which were their mothers. I got to see up close behavior that I felt was unloving.

The Pioneer clique was catty about petty things. From debating when you can start counting time to what to do when there is an unbaptised boy present at a meeting with only sisters, everything was so legalistic and anyone who didn't go along with the group was made to feel less than spiritual. If you got on the outs too often, people would avoid you.

In all the congregations I attended, there has always been incidents with those who are disfellowshipped or inactive. The first incident was when I was younger. A sister who was inactive was grieving over the loss of her daughter. Practically everyone was saying it was her own fault that her daughter was murdered and this was a punishment from Jehovah. I thought that was cruel, especially as I knew her daughter and the mother.

In this cold congregation, it was no different. A lady I never saw before was alone in the back with two kids and pregnant, struggling to get organized. I felt sorry for her and as I went back to help, a sister pulled me aside and told me to stay away from her if I didn't want to be disfellowshipped. She was married and got divorced from an abusive husband. She had a sexual relationship with someone after she got divorced. On those grounds, she was punished. After the meeting, I tried to approach her again, but mouthed out to her hello and got looks of disapproval.

This same group of "strong" witnesses had one very vocal woman who made a lady feel guilty about the position she was in that caused her to be unable to make meetings or go out in service. To that woman, there should be no excuses if you really love Jehovah. The poor lady had a husband who was dying from emphysema and a son who had Down's Syndrome. When he died and she did not want to put her son in a home, the "strong" witness coldly blurted out, "Well, you must really not want to live forever with Jehovah's people."

I started hanging around those considered "weak" who were only that way because they had issues which could not be satisfied within the congregation. They didn't want out all the way as it would permanently alienate them from their family.

Then that recording started again. I attempted suicide and the elders found out. They were not too happy with that, but asked me not to do that again. I confided in a sister who was in the Pioneer clique that I was raped. She told me to confess to the elders or she would turn me in. I was kind of winded by that. I should confess to being raped or would be turned in? I knew this sister tended to get on her high horse from time to time and probably would tell on me, so I went to confess.

I was called on the carpet and questioned in a semi-lit room with a few elders and no sisters present. As it was a confession, no witnesses were needed. I went into detail about what happened and cross examined. They determined that I was guilty of fornication because I did not yell. They also wanted to know if I was sorry for my sin and put me on "reproof."

The elders did not want me to tell anyone why I was on reproof. My friends in the congregation were curious why someone who was a devoted Pioneer was on reproof. I wanted to let a few people know to avoid any rumors. I was then cautioned by the elders to not talk about it or I would be disfellowshipped. I attempted suicide again.

By that time, I wanted to go home. I missed my parents. My reputation was damaged. I had no friends. That tape in my head was worse. They misdiagnosed me as schizophrenic at the hospital. That label followed me far too long. I was suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

At home, my mom kept trying to deprogram me, but it only made me worse. I knew at some level there were a lot of things wrong with the religion, but could not get to that point to admit it. After all, if that wasn't "The Truth," then there was nothing. My whole life would have been a lie. Everything I knew and believed would be yanked out without anything to replace it. I couldn't deal with it and my parents couldn't understand why I couldn't act normal.

Even after I was pushed into a moral crossroad, the nightmare wasn't over. I was made to choose - my family or the religion. I chose my family and wrote a letter of formal disassociation.

While it may seem on the surface that my life should have been perfect at that point, it wasn't. You don't come out of such a life and just fit in, especially if you don't know what normal is supposed to be. You can't just snap your fingers and be like everyone else. If you were raised all your life to believe the world outside is evil, you tend to fear it. If you are raised to believe the world is going to end soon, you keep looking over your shoulder for the end. If everything you were told was the truth was a lie and everything you were told was a lie was the truth, you cannot easily come to terms with reality.

What most outsiders do not understand is the real dangers of cult mentality. It reaches into a part of your psyche that alters the way you deal with life. It can mess you up. This is an alternative life that you can only really understand if you have been there. If you are misfortunate enough to get trapped into cult thinking, it doesn't make you stupid or weak minded. Cults can trap people from all walks of life. Getting out of a cult is easier said than done. A cult is not just a church, it is a lifestyle. It is even harder to shake it if you were born or raised into it and have nothing to compare it with.

It took many years to come to a point considered somewhat normal. I now have a pretty good life. I sometimes shudder at the thought of what would happen if I stayed. I wouldn't have gotten married and had two children I love more than life itself. I now have the ability to use my mind without others telling me what to think. I have also learned to virtually eliminate that tape recording in my mind. I am finally really happy.

It has been close to 2 decades now since I officially wrote my letter of disassociation from the group and I feel completely free of any hold they had over me. I do dispute the letter as I dispute my membership in the organization to begin with. One cannot contract with anyone if not in a right state of mind. In order to join this group through baptism, one must be in a right state of mind. At the time, I was not when I was baptized, therefore it was invalid. From a legal standpoint, I was never really a Jehovah's Witness, therefore I am exactly like a non-Jehovah's Witness who has associated, but never joined. I just was able to experience what I did by a fluke.

If you are even thinking about joining this religion, I strongly suggest you read all you can from former members. They are not just making these things up! While some might be happy in this life, not everyone will be.

If you are a current member and are worried about getting out, believe me when I say there is a great life on the outside. It may take some time to get there, but it is possible to feel free and happy.