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Getting my story out there / Leaving a cult
Overview: I'm 17, a dude and from the UK raised as a Jehovah's witness from birth 'waking up' so to speak of March this year.
1-The pristine picture
Life was always a twist and a turn, always moving from place to place I found it difficult to form long lasting relationships. I had a brief time in school before my parents decided to pull me out unwilling to allow what we called 'worldly influence' in to my sphere of development. We moved across lines and even to new countries. I remember a great deal of my childhood sat in the back of a car watching time fly by, the trees, people and houses all becoming merged in to one intangible blur as we shot forward to the next destination.
From house to house we moved always in relative poverty, the temptations and 'means of the world' being far beneath my parents to even consider pursuing. It seemed as though we chased a future we had no part in pre establishing, a house built on sand. It was always alright though, God would always provide and soon the world would pass away anyway so why bother? Each dream ended abruptly after a couple years and the realisation that the latest project taken on wouldn't be feasibly completable, another dream to hit the wash of reality slowly sinking in that we'd just have to wait another year before trying again.
It was however beautiful in the mountains, dynamic vistas graced the valleys and calming peace besides the oceans for a time. As a child you do not hold time as linearly as you do an adult, it passes by from moment to moment with only the future being in focus. It was a beautiful picture and we spent many a night speculating on the new world that God would bring us, the promise that all those years dedicated to the organisation, the years of potential and education sacrificed would pay off one day "You'll see you won't even be in double digits before the end comes! Then you'll se so glad you served Jehovah with a glad heart" my dad would repeat in a similar paraphrase all throughout my formative years, something that would come to haunt me as I grew later on down the line.
Life doesn't always look the same when you finally end up looking back. In retrospect life was very abnormal for me as a child. No holidays, no outside friends (which eventually manifested in no friends at all) "put on the new personality" "Soon Jehovah will come and destroy all the bad people!" The congregants would say "And who are they?" I'd ask. Everyone had a different response ranging from the dissenters or apostates who left, to anyone even not exposed to this great message we were preaching. I found it rather odd how everyone I met had a different explanation as to how this armageddon would occur ... "surely such a fundamental teaching of what we believe cant be so easily moulded to the idea of each person" I would think. You never really thought about how you became so permissable to such a monstrous idea. I guess it just becomes a part of your reality, like how you wouldn't grieve for that really distant auntie who died last week. Sure it's a horrible thing, but life goes on ... and so it would with me.
This view of impending armageddon drove me even at my youngest years to become a zealous preacher. Of one of the few good things I got from that religion I have to say that it helped me greatly in developing public speaking skills early on.
I would go from door to door, read items on the platform and learn as much as I could. I wanted to save EVERYONE even the people who had hurt me in the past. Then, one day someone new showed up at our hall, I noticed him after service. He was an old tall man, tall to me at least, with me being at the age of 8 or 9. He sat in the back, his body language compressed and awkward as he stood at the center of a group of Elders (congregation leaders) I loved meeting new people, especially Jehovah's people! I ran up excitedly to greet him and offer him one of my drawings that night. Swiftly I heard my mother running up behind me sharply grabbing my hand pulling me away. I was shocked "you can't speak to him" she uttered "why?" I asked, explaining my intentions "He's disfellowshipped, no one but the elders are allowed to speak to him. He's been gone a long time but now he's finally coming back to Jehovah" this puzzled me, it felt wrong but it wouldn't surface again until years later.
My own problems would arise, things that I was told would hurt and offend God so much if I didn't get it out to the elders. These were "problems" every adolescent deals with growing up, they were of course of a sexual nature. Completely innocent if not a bit awkward to most, but a dangerous sin in the eyes of this organisation. At the age of 11 I believe, I was sat down in front of an elder (the chairman) at his workplace after hours and was asked in some graphic detail the nature of my "offenses" I quietly and awkwardly explained in the most vuage of details as an 11 year old could muster finally ending the session in what was about an hours time. At the the time it was normal, but then everything I was told and surrounded by was "normal"
After many moves, my parent's beliefs started to cool off. The more we moved the more isolated we became, the harder it was to attend kingdom hall up until we gradually stopped. The 2 years we we're inactive my dad began to drink more and my mum began to feel overwhelmed. She had taken the "worldly plunge" and taken on a career, something no faithful witness would do lightly. My father would spend day to day sat in the living room and my mum would arrive back late at night. It felt like stagnation and I grew to despise it. I wondered why they didn't have more drive and motivation to do SOMETHING, ANYTHING new... but the picture was finally starting to crack more and more.
It was 2016 and so naturally politics were a hot topic. At the age of 13 I also had my own smartphone. Naturally I began to try quelling my boredom and apathy listening to the arguments of each side and seeing how these foolish people were going to try solve the world's problems without God's help. As time went on I began to hear more strange words like "fallacy" "objective" and "disingenuous" I listened and learned how each side listened to and deconstructed the other's arguments. I even watched people change their mind and switch sides ... this was very strange to me, that never happened around me, everyone always thought the same way.
As a few more years sped by we eventually moved again and began attending meetings again. Mum eventually lost her job and dad sank further in to cynicism. So did I. We experienced family crisis and all manner of things. The real world was finally on the horizon and in just a couple years I shifted from doughy eyed optimistic to clinical cynic. I leaned heavily in to my newly found methods of thought and found ideas that fit my opinions, I elaborated on them to fit my doomsday narrative. The world was doomed and I wanted to see it burn already. I wanted to see all the pain Satan had put my family through finally end, to finally have that new world we were promised. For everyone to be happy again.
I saw Satan in every part of my life, the government were all under his control and I watched the news with express intention of satirising the world. To laugh at what I saw as folly and pitiful attempts at regrowth in a dying world. I felt hate, true hate.
The pictures shatters-4
There were highs and lows. We were all the perfect happy family at service, I formed a network of friends on the inside. There were also the lows when you were left sitting there in the silence. And they were LOW. We were different people depending on who we were around, very different. My cynicism and eventual skepticism that I had projected so fiercely on to the world eventually spread to my insular way of life. More and more I began to see the cracks in our way if thinking ... I began to poke holes in our reason. It didn't scare me, I didn't feel much at that time. I didn't feel anything, just grey nothing. I got to the point where I seriously wondered if I should just end it to see what would happen next if anything. I wonder if I'd be resurrected even? Or would I just be another pile of bones forever forgotten down among the dead after armageddon.
One day, it happened. It snapped. I decided "what the hell, what have I got to lose" I was at my lowest point. I decided to do the unthinkable, I read the words of the critics and I engaged with them just as I saw the politicians years ago do. I argued and read until I couldn't deny it anymore. Everything that they were saying began to line up with what I already knew to be true. The rampant misogyny in the group, the child abuse, the cult mindset and the fallacies and deviations from the Bible the organisation took to justify it's existence. It was just one big MLM scheme.
It took one day. my parents arrived back home. I had argued since I was a child with my "worldly" peers and family members for years vigorously for this religion ... I then turned every single one of my arguments and lines of reasoning on to my parents. Every inch of frustration I let out in that moment. We argued and debated in to the night.
My father lost his son "the apostates took him" Everyone I knew and cared for, they left. I didn't have to say a word to them, word spread like wildfire what happened. The world almost seemed to stop spinning. Then ... The virus happened a few weeks later.
I'm currently locked up in my home now trying to rebuild some kind of future for myself. The atmosphere is tense but they can't kick me out yet, not until I'm 18. The decision to confront them was likely stupid in the long run but I honestly don't regret it one bit. Despite everything I went to an after school programme and I managed to make some friends before everything went down. I feel now I am a much better person for it, for everything that happened. I'm an optimist now, I again see the beauty in life again, I can finally have my own friendships now and even prospect for a relationship! I can think what I want and it tastes so fresh. You don't realise how good a glass of cold water tastes until you run a mile through the boiling desert.
This is my therapy where there is none anywhere else. This is my story. Thank you for reading if you made it all the way here!
After the event I've focused my energy more positively now helping establish an online support group now with over 200 members of people just like me. People who are likely much smarter in choosing to fade than I was haha. I mean to help them every step of the way. This experience was to my detriment of course... but it also made me. Who would I be outside of this? Who can say. What's the point in worrying about it.
Fight on for truth. Never be silenced. The only thing evil needs to prevail is for good men stand back, to do and say nothing. Don't give it the chance! Thank you.
NOTE: My post was originally made on athiesm but I decided to add it here too after a recommendation to maybe reach a wider audience.