It's a religious club one has to fit into economically --- where you live, where you shop (doesn't matter how conservative you dress). Maybe if your mate is a believer and a heavy it would help but alone it's a horror story. Thankfully, I had an unbelieving mate and a social life on the outside w/people who weren't trying to roll me for something. The stress inside caused my poor attendance record and that was a positive. The stress/misery was immense.
were you ever truly happy as a jw?
by emanresu 25 Replies latest jw friends
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Disillusioned Lost-Lamb
No.
The only real happiness I've ever experienced has been when I'm naughty and do non-wash-towel things or hang out with non-witless friends.
I don't know how any JW woman/girl in their right mind can honestly say that they are, or were, happy; I don't find it happifying to be told, and then treated like, I'm a worthless piece of shit.
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Ding
JWs always live with a tension.
On the one hand, the organization leads them to believe they are Jehovah's people, the only ones who aren't about to be annihilated at Armageddon.
On the other hand, with its constant refrain of "More! More!" the organization makes them feel like worthless failures.
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Quendi
I can say that I was, particularly for my first ten years as a Witness. I moved to Colorado where I met the best friend I ever had, pioneered, had all kinds of wonderful life experiences in and out of the organization, and enjoyed life to the full. I suppose things began to go downhill for me starting with Tom's suicide and hit bottom when I was disfellowshipped. But I have to say that not all of my time in the organization was hell. Some of it was actually time well spent.
Quendi
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emanresu
Thanx for all the answers!
I'm asking because having never been a jw myself, the only information i have of jws is from exjws and they almost always paint a horrible picture of the organization.
@ Compound complex: thank you, i don't usually post on here but i do spend some time on this site.
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sabastious
I was only happy when my family was together and we were not trying to be spiritual or fighting. They were a rare oasis. Most of my childhood was spent trying to juggle responsibilities that should never have been put on my plate in the first place. I was not allowed to be a kid and when I was it was scrutinized, strictly forbidden and punished. All in the name of my protection which did nothing but create a codependent relationship with anyone who was an agent of that protection. My early studies included the world around me through the lense of the Watchtower publications. I was told that only Watchtower publications were capable of parsing the immense knowledge available in the Bible.
I swallowed this story hook line and sinker. I know others who didn't including my own brothers, but for some reason the Watchtower played a tune that I could get behind for all of my childhood and beyond. My family often spoke about what they wanted in the New World that was promised about by the Bible which was God's only true Word to mankind. The Watchtower publications were the handy Bible aids that never lied to you, but only became brighter. If you compared one decade to another you would see glaring contradictions in interpretation, but that's what they seemed to be for. To explain the world of the people who read them as they read them. This created a dependency for the people on the paper and ink required to keep this "wonder of God" at it's utmost efficiency. Many pockets were filled.
My life is a reflection of that dependecy and the lifestyle that comes from it. I woke up in a JW family in 1984 and was shoved pamphlets into my face and forced to study them until my eyes bled (methaphorically speaking). Instead of normal bed time stories I was fed stories from a handy dandy Watchtower publication called "My Book of Bible Stories." Included in this were pictures of children dying because their parents disobeyed God. It's clear that the reason why I believed my parents could act in this heinous way was because they seemed to be just following orders. I was raised by wardens as were many JW's.
The main order was to go out in the field minstry. How this was accomplished was by creating an inflated view of the ministry in the minds and hearts of their members which just so happend to be my parents. So, my father faithfull complied with this way of things and took me out in field service with him regularly. There is a real adventurous apsect about the field ministery. You have obstacles like getting the door slammed in your face, dogs, people with guns, having to study really hard on how to avoid it all and still preach. All kinds of things would happen that would be considered imagined if not witnessed personally. I would follow my father proudly to each one of his "return visists" where he was speaking with a particular house holder for a frequency more than once. We would go to the same houses over and over. Years would go by and these house holders would see me grow. My father had a real affinity with these people because he genuinely believed that any day we were all going to be judged and possibly executed by God. More than a few times he would remind me that a tractor we had would be used to dig mass graves because he was an expert in driving heavy machinery. There would be no one else to do the job, so we were it. When it happened of course.
As I watched my father he always told me that one day I would be baptised. No room was given for the opportunity to explore any other option. This idea was reinforced by the congregational community I resided within. I had many "aunts and uncles" and "grandma's and grandpa's" some more odd than others, but all encourged me to become a baptised publisher instead of a publisher. I remember feeling real resistence to the idea because I had already felt a little guilty about becoming an "unbaptised publisher" just because my dad said so and I was following him around. Besides, if I back talked at all there would physical violence because my dad couldn't endure the idea of not having his son there to dig the mass graves. There was no option but to "inculcate the truth into me" because was for my own good.
As a grew older the presure naturally increased to get baptised. I actually started to freak out many of the "family members" that truly for me had always existed. Many seemed to approach me like some sort of carnival game and "encourage me to baptism." Maybe they were secretly keeping score of how many people they could convince. I'd say they were, but didn't really know they were. We were all in a daze, really, so the blame blurs along with it.
The dissonance for me started when I was about 13ish. I had become educated enough to understand the Bible and it's darker stories and ethics. They bothered me, but I found myself in an environment that didn't account for much questioning. One thing about the Witnesses is that they believe that weakness is ultimately evil which is a very primal way to look at life. That's the way it was a VERY long time ago, not now, not at all. But for some reason they looked at life with a perfectionistic lense. Nothing was good enough because they were not where they wanted to be. They yearned to be basking in their glory that they had paved for themselves, but the path never fully materialized.
I was never happy as a JW because I was never given the freedom to choose anything. Everything was handed out from ethics to shoes and it became very stale, very quick for me. Happiness comes from knowing where you stand among your contemporaries so that you can learn from them and they you. I was raised in a dark hole where no one knew what from what. There are still many people who live in that same hole and I cry for them often. To get to the outside takes an act of the very thing that they are actively being deprived of: free will and everything that comes from it. The question is did they use free will to get into the hole? Did I use choose that existence or did they choose if for me? Where does the blame lie and with whom?
In Zen Buddhism you are supposed to choose your past because if you do not then you forever reside within it. That's why trauma happens is because the ego (which is designed to save us) was spooked so bad that it creates a reality around itself to shield itself from the truth. That's why you should never help at all in the traumatizing of another because it's just as damaging as severing a limb or putting out an eye. The result is permenant and the recipient is dealt cards that they must now play. My parents didn't understand that and they were tricked into giving their free will to a bunch of morons in Broolyn New York. Who are now running to upstate New York with their tale inbetween their legs and money bags in their hands. The world will now know the truth about what they did and they will be held accountable. There is no way this kind of injustice goes unpunished in a world that was founded on values like honor and justice. Time is just planning taking place.
-Sab
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apostatethunder
As happy as one can be when the decisions in your life and in the lives of those around you are being taken by some self appointed annointed.
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BluesBrother
Yes..... at least , by truly happy do you mean ecstatic every day like when you are in a flush of romance? Then No.
But life was good most of the time. I got well with the others and coped with the duties. The way of life was ok until the last BOE loaded all the grotty work on me and i resented that. That is when the treadmill syndrome came in.
It was not the lifestyle that made me leave, I may have just quit eldership ......? but when I learned that "The Truth" was a lie, then I had to go completely.
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dontplaceliterature
NO. I was only waiting for this system to be over so I could "truly be happy." No wonder so many people in that religion have mental problems.
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life is to short
NO
Looking back all I did was try to be happy, fake being happy even to myself. I remember one talk which my husband took an example of saying if you want to feel or be a certain way just keep saying it to yourself and eventually you will be that person.
So I tried and tried to be happy, telling myself I was happy. Happy pioneering, being at Bethel, being an elder's wife, etc.
In hindsight I think the happiest I ever was, was a Bethel because I did not have to sit for hours and hours and hours riding around in a car in the rural's knocking on empty doors. At Bethel at least I was able to feel I was at the very least doing something productive.
I now know that is a huge part of why I am depressed right now. All of my life I wasted telling myself, lying to myself that I was happy but I was in true HELL. I just would not let myself believe it, because I was happy RIGHT being born into the happiest religion on earth.
LITS