Part 1 is located here: http://www.jehovahs-witness.com/7/138938/1.ashx
I moved to a neighboring congregation and my whole life and view of the witnesses changed. It was a huge step above Lakeview. I even met my first crush there. Now that I was hanging around with my new group of friends, I lost touch with my old congregation. Jim got disfellowshipped. I actually found out about it before it happened in service from one of the more gossipy women in the hall. It was a shock and ruined my day. I was going to have my friend ripped away from me, and this woman mentioned it so flippantly and off-the-cuff I was almost angry. I went to his last meeting and Jim sat next to me. At the time, I was a "true believing JW," to borrow a phrase from the ex-mormons. My definition of the truth was very strict, very black-and-white. I was going to be a loyal soldier to Christ no matter what. Jim sat with me, and I thought it was wrong because I knew what was going to happen (it wasn't going to that night, but it would be the last time I'd get to talk to him). I think he wanted to say goodbye in his own way. Deep down, I'm glad he sat with me. He even e-mailed me about a job after it happened, and I responded firmly that we shouldn't talk, but thanked him for thinking of me. One day I looked up his number and had it ready to dial in my phone. I still haven't called him to this day. I don't know what I would say quite frankly.
The years went by and I adjusted. I progressed very much. I got baptized at 15, knowing for sure that this is what I'd want to do with my life. I regret that decision. It was really done to impress a girl in the congregation I had a huge crush on. Even though we'd constantly be told that baptism isn't something you do because your friends do it, that is pretty much why 90% of teenagers get baptized. Peer pressure is an amazing force. Regardless, I was deep into the religion at this point. I started auxiliary pioneering soon after, and then got approved to be a regular pioneer. This was the first year they lowered the monthly requirement from 90 to 70 hours per month. My first month I got 82 hours. After 5 months I was down to 2. There were only 3 other regular pioneers in my congregation, an old couple and a single sister in her 30s. Day after day, I'd be put into car groups with them, and it would wear on my patience. The couple was so judgemental, constantly gossiping about people, a trait that rubbed off on me, unfortunately. The single sister was an annoying yenta-type that was obsessed with other people's relationships.
I was living with my mother at the time, as she was split from my dad. She always told me that I'd never regret going out in service and to the meetings, that I'd always be glad that I went. When I came home from a long day with the gossip group, feeling absolutely drained and regretting that I went, I knew she was wrong. My seasonal job at a tax preparation place ended, as well as my ability to get lunch and contribute for gas. The elderly couple I went in service with would talk about people who didn't donate for gas like they were devil's minions. They'd also talk about how much of an insult getting only $1 for gas was, being that it was getting expensive. This made me feel even worse, so after 6 months of pioneering, I asked to be removed from the list. My hours were dwindling anyway, and I was so drained and miserable pioneering that it as a blessing. I never saw "the truth" the same way again.
I moved to the other side of the duplex with my cousin, and my meeting attendance started suffering. I felt incredibly guilty, which made it even harder to go. I switched to the other congregation in the same hall hoping for a fresh start, and when that died down, a hall 30 minutes away. Another girl I had developed a crush was going to this far-away hall since her family had moved. I convinced myself I wasn't following her, and this was for my spirituality. I rebounded for a while, but I again slumped off. I got laid off from my full-time job, and found another in the Detroit area. Once again, I ran away, hoping to solve my problems.
My new congregation was really nice, but I just didn't have it in me to be the witness I "should" have been. I slept quite a bit at the meetings, and then my attendance started dwindling. In the year and three months I lived there, I probably went in service twice. One of the elders that lived in my apartment complex told me I should find out if I have depression. I was entertaining thoughts of worthlessness and suicide constantly. I saw a doctor and started taking Lexapro. It worked, although a bit too much. I stopped caring about anything, meeting attendance, dishes, taking the garbage out. My once clean apartment became a typical bachelor pig-sty. I also gained a lot of weight. I went from 220 pounds to over 250 in a few months. I was switched to efexor, which made me convulse, after two pills I was done.
I had a friend in Traverse City, a popular vacation spot in northern michigan, that offered to let me live with him. I happily obliged, and moved. Again, I rebounded. My depression went away for a while, although I still kept my remaining lexapro for an emergency. My friend introduced me to his niece, who was my age. It was a "set up" from the beginning, and we soon started dating. To this day I get two different stories. According to her, she dated me due to pressure from her family, and according to her uncle, she was genuinely attracted to me. The whole family lies and backbites each other almost constantly, so I don't know who to believe. The distance put a strain on the relationship, and it was ended a week later. We dated off and on for a few years, completing the destruction of my self-confidence. It's like getting someone repeatedly addicted to heroine, forcing them to go through painful withdrawl over and over and over again. Now, her and I are good friends. She's married and we've both exorcised our demons on the whole issue.
My friend and roommate became more and more controlling. Suddenly he decided I was addicted to the internet, unplugged the modem cable from the outlet, and taped it with electrical tape. This annoyed me, considering that I was PAYING for the service. When he wasn't home, I removed the tape and plugged back in. The next day, the plug was ripped from the wire. It occurred to me that I was living with a psycho, and moved in with my parents the same day.
I lived with my parents for a while, got some odd retail jobs and finally a full-time job in my career field. While attending my first congregation, the doubts were planted one night while studying the Daniel Book. I couldn't logically accept the doctrine of "dual fulfillment." It seemed incredibly far-fetched, especially when the book presented no real evidence that certain prophecies had dual fulfillment while others didn't. The idea that there are/were MULTIPLE kings of the north and south was equally disconcerting. I just couldn't see the logic. I could no longer believe it. I saw the circular logic for the first time (this explanation isn't compatible with our pre-determined conclusion, so it must therefore mean THIS). I pushed these doubts back, but I never attended the meetings regularly again.
I moved into the apartment I'm living in now last year. Soon after, I started reading Richard Dawkins. After a while, it just started making sense. Back in June, I came to the realization that I don't believe in God. I felt terrible, alone, and frightened. I looked for support on the internet among people who have left. For a week I researched and researched. I saw things I'd never seen before and was forced to think about things I had dismissed in a new light. I first logged on to JWD and started a blog about my experience.
That Saturday, I told my mom that I don't believe anymore. She immediately attributed it to my depression. She had me over to the house (she has since returned to my dad) so my dad could try to convince me. I obliged. I was so stressed I couldn't prepare, and I sat in a chair the whole discussion, quietly nodding. I agreed to study more before I made my decision. That was 2 months ago.
I removed my blog and tried one last time to believe. I studied the publications, but I just couldn't bring myself to agree. I still have no friends outside the witnesses and this is why I haven't left for good. I've decided to tow the line until I get a good social group built up outside. Unfortunately, I'm terrible at making friends and this has been difficult. Now I'm moving in with my little brother, who has recently become more gung-ho about the witness lifestyle. I've passively agreed to this even though it isn't what I want. It's going to make my fade harder and make my life much more stressful. I feel helpless and alone. Leaving the Witnesses is many things, but easy is not one of them.