well, i guess it's time for me to write the story of how i ended up here.
i was born in 1976 in new orleans. i was raised in the organazation. i never knew any different. i had a loving family. we did alot together. i had a very happy child hood.
when i was in the second grade, the teachers told my parents i was mentally retarted. that i would never be able to learn past a fourth grade level. i struggled all through school. i always had a way of looking at things different than everyone else. for example, in 3rd grade, the teacher told us to draw a picture of the school. all the other kids drew a house, with a flag, and people all around. i told the teacher i needed more time. she looked at me, and said, okay. i went to recess, and looked at the buildings. when i went back in, i drew a series of boxes, with other little boxes. the teacher asked me, "what is this?" i told her that's how you would see the school from an airplane. even at a young age, i was obsessed with aviation. she told my parents the same thing the second grade teacher told them, that i should be in "special" classes. so, for most of my school career, i was in those classes. it wasn't until i started in college, that i made good grades. i made c's and d's all through school, but, graduated from college on the dean's list with honors.
the reason i told that story, is to show why i felt the way i did. my family was always supportive of me, but, no matter what i was taught, i never could accept "the truth". i always thought i was just to stupid to comprehend it. i was also a bad little kid, always in trouble, so, i never "made the truth my own" i always thought it was me that was wrong. no matter how hard i tried, i just could not submit to the org.
In 1997, i had the first tragedy of my life. My best friend in the whole world, my grandfather, died unexpentantly. it was a total shock. him and i were the best of friends. even now, as i type this, tears of pain come rolling down. ever since i was a kid, him and i did everything together. in the summer, we would spen time on the bayous of south louisiana at our fishing camp. he was retired, and we would go, just me and him for days at a time on a regular basis. the weird thing was, 2 days before he died, we had a family reunion at his house. it was so nice, sitting in the cool evening all laughing and telling stories. it was almost like he knew what was about to happen, and wanted his family around him one last time. that is my single fondest memory.
after he died, i went from grieving, to downright mad. I cursed god to his face, and vowed to never worship him again. the pain i felt was so devastating, i could barely function.
A few years later, i met my first wife. she was a witness, but, barely went to meetings. my family begged me not to marry her, but i told them i wanted nothing to do with the org. and got married and moved to Denver, Co. to finish my schooling in aviation. after i finished, we moved back to new orleans. that's where things got rocky. i took a job that required travel almost non-stop. i was making tons of money, looking forward to buying a house and starting a real life, instead of barely scraping by.
then, one day, i went to get a hotel room when i was on the road. my credit card was declined. i was shocked to learn, that, while i was busting my ass working 20 hours a day, literally, my wife was at home spending it faster than i was making it. all our credit cards were maxed out, and hadn't been paid in months.
then, a few days later, i find out she was cheating on me while i was working. that was it, i told her to get out, and be gone before i got home. i've only seen her 2 times since then, both times to do paperwork for the divorce.
i quit that job, and started working in the field i am in now. but, being home, and alone, was hard. i turned to drugs. i developed a very nasty cocaine and crystal meth addiction. i had always done drugs recreationally, but, now it was really bad. i had about a 300 dollar a week coke addiction. well, that's when i started selling it. things got progressively worse. i wound up shooting a friend in the knee because he owed me money. the drugs were truly in charge now.
one day, i was sitting in my apartment, trying to think where it all went wrong. it was a tuesday night. a thought flickered across my mind. it was when i left the witnesses. surely this was jehovah's hand. i thought, that's what i need, i need to go back to meetings.
bam, a half hour later, i was cleaned up, shaved, had my suit on, and was at my parents front door. i went inside. my dad looked at me for a second, and asked, what are you doing? i said, I'm coming back to meetings. Oh happy day. hugs all around, the prodical son had returned home.
this euphoric feeling was short lived. after a few weeks, i started to remember why i left in the first place. not to mention the fact that i was fighting a losing battle with my addictions. i would have to get high just to make it through the meetings. it went from a joyous homecoming, to a feeling of being trapped. i still could not buy into the org.s way of thinking. but, there was no way i could let my parents down again. so, i led a double life, again. i felt like shit. i wanted to scream at every meeting. but, for the sake of my parents, i kept my mouth shut and coasted along.
then, Katrina hit. we got out of the city the day before. left at 2 a.m. and drove 6 grueling hours to marshall texas. i had never heard of it. it was the closest place we could find a hotel room. we sat there for days watching the horror unravel on t.v. the place was packed with refugees. we all just sat dazed in the hotel lobby crying for what seemed like an eternity.
my father decided we needed to go to a meeting. so, we went, in clothes that hadn't been washed in days. it felt weird going to a meeting in stinky jeans and tennis shoes. but, we were greeted with loving kindness. say what you will about the witneeses, i know i do, but we were taken care of.
we were set up at a brothers house. me and him got really close. he was a cool elder at the hall. we hit it off right away. we would go shopping, and we would check out hot women. he made me laugh all the time. we got into a deep discussion. he basically told me he thought the w.t.s. was full of shit. his words. but, he liked that it gave him something to do. he even called his grand-daughters to wish them happy b-day. he did love jehovah, no doubt, but, didn't like the w.t.s.
he allowed me to see for the first time, that, faith in god, does not mean faith in an org. now, i know, this was god's intervention. when i realised that, it was like a warm blanket wrapped my soul. for the first time, i felt close to god. without any interference from the outside, i had him as a friend.
when they evacuated the superdome, i decided to help the brothers. they were looking for other brothers, coming through on buses. i voluntered, not as a witness, but, as an individual, wanting to help my neighbors, in any way i could. no one wanted the 3 a.m. shift, so i took it.
i was sitting there, homeless, jobless, completly defeated, when this ray of sunshine walked into the room. her name was anna. she was a pioneer from a small town a few hours away. for the first time, in what felt like weeks, it had only been a few days, i felt something other than pain. i felt warm inside just talking to her. i never have problems talking to women, but, for some reason, i was nervous talking to her. i got the courage to ask for her phone number. well, i am going on forever, but, long story short, in 2 years time, we have left the org. got married, and are living our happily ever after.
thanks for taking the time to read this.