I remember being 4 years old. My mom was Catholic, but not a practicing Catholic. As far as I knew at that time my dad had no affiliation. I vividly remember begging my mom to take me to church. (Who at 4 begs to go to church?) (Clue #1 to my psyche) Anyway, mom finally took me to the Catholic Church after she had promised she would take me, and it was Sunday and she was still asleep so I jumped up and down on her to wake her up. Needless to say she was not a happy camper. Regardless...I was determined enough that she got up and took me.
Once I got to the Church I was thrilled beyond belief. Once you go in the door you come across this “fountain”. It is the Holy Water you need to touch (I guess). Anyway, my mom touched the Holy Water, did some funky stuff against her chest while mumbling something that I had no idea what she was saying. I did not understand what she was doing but it was cool with me. I was finally in a church!
I remember feeling so bad for my mom. She is/was a big woman. During the church services you go down on your knees/get up, (repeat) (repeatedly). This was cool to me. There was singing going on too. But when it came to the “lecture” it was in Latin. Only years later did I find out that the Catholic Church did this intentionally to keep the r&f from knowing what the Bible actually taught. But I distinctly remember thinking (at 4 years old) that I did not want anything to do with a Church that hid what they believed behind a language you could not understand. Needless to say, I never asked to go back.
At 8 years old we moved to a new town. It was not until I was an adult that I was told it was because my parents were going to split up if nothing was done to change the situation. My parents felt like a lack of God in their lives was the major problem in their lives. At this point they made a “pact”. My dad saying “Try the Baptists” and my mom saying “Try the JW’s”. My mom came out of the Baptist Church laughing and then a study with JW’s was started. That Bible spent more time in the garbage than it was out, but eventually we were entrenched in the JW’s.
OK, that was the beginning.
This was 1966……Babylon Book for anyone who remembers it. Ugh! My parents got baptized in 1969. I was 11 at the time. This was still cool to me. I was even dubbed the “Bible Lady” in 10th grade because I carried the Bible with me always. No matter what was said, I could bring it back to the Bible. Needless to say………..I didn’t have a lot of friends.
1974
With the fervor for 1975 I remember meeting an Elder at the Hall to discuss my eligibility for Baptism. I told him I was afraid because 1975 (fall) was very soon. He agreed I needed to do something NOW. So I got baptized. 1976, April, I married a young Witness Brother.
This young man tried to kill me on many occasions, he accused me of killing our firstborn for 10 solid years, he would not have anything to do with Bible Study or the upbringing of our 3 children. Because of the repeated attempts at killing me I went to Brothers in 2 congregations to talk about it. No one helped me. Finally, I saw the pain in my second daughters face while hearing the screaming going on in our household. I determined that I would make life better for all of us if I could get a divorce. In the WBTS you can only get a divorce by adultery so I went just far enough with a young man to say I did adultery. Lo and behold, that didn’t matter since “he” was willing to forgive. Life at home did not improve so I decided I needed to go farther in what I did so I could get a divorce and raise my kids without the problems. Well, I accomplished a divorce but what faced me I had no idea could happen. I lost my children to this psychopath due to a pure lack of money. I had to sit back and watch him do basically the same thing to them that he did to me. Deep and utter control
I have been diagnosed as having PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) due to my ex and also because of the WBTS.
I want to end this on a positive note. 2 out of my 3 children do not want ANYTHING to do with the JW’s. At times I feel anger and fear and a lack of self-esteem because of this ordeal called my life. But the fact that 2 of my children are out makes all the pain worthwhile.