My story - part One.

diamondblue1974

I have never posted my story on JWD and it was only recently that it occured to me that I should really make more of an effort to; here is the first part....sorry if its longwinded...

I was brought up in the Borg from the age of 18 months old and as you can understand I have known little else. Previous to being in ‘the truth’ my mother was an unwanted child and beaten by her mother, sure enough she fell into an abusive relationship with my father which left her with minus zero confidence and on the verge of a nervous breakdown; apparently my mum was considering throwing us both off a railway bridge she was that depressed and to her there was no point in living. She decided not to throw us from the said bridge and returned home, just when things couldn’t get any worse up comes the path comes my mothers saviour, a woman we shall know as SB (initials, not son of a bitch although this is probably more apt). I believe her current state made her susceptible to the WTS mind control tactics and of course being quite emotionally vulnerable made the transition from ‘worldly’ to a Jehovah’s Witness all the more easy.

My mother began a study and sure enough and soon enough my mother had a new found direction in life, a life which was to have a massive impact on me even to this very day.

I was growing into a toddler becoming more mobile and more boisterous as kids do become; we were regular at the meetings and obviously these and field service became just a part of my life and I knew little else; as you know it was impossible to sit still for two hours and concentrate and this led to numerous slaps but because I was quite vocal I think my mother got embarrassed and decided to punish me at home instead; I remember during the meetings my mother would often whisper (quite loudly) ‘concentrate!’ and at 4 years old it was a little difficult given the subject matter from the platform….any 4 year old would struggle with the Isaiah’s prophesy!

My mother never remarried and this was despite many attempts from would be suitors, so we were forever a single parent family; in the hall I went to although nobody was openly objectionable to single parents families they did very little to help; very rarely did we get invited out (until of course more SPF’s moved in) and it was though you were a second class citizen.

It is hard for me to say this and I feel disrespectful saying it but my mother was never the assertive type and would readily accept anything the elders told her and any treatment meted out to her by others; in effect she had intelligence but the confidence to express it simply wasn’t there and of course the elders did nothing to encourage it either. Again this is still the case now I am sad to admit. I have tried to question her beliefs with her and point out one of the many areas but I have decided not to pursue it any further…why destroy the only belief system and social status she has ever really known?

My mother given her childhood had anger management issues; she would usually go over the top and lay into me for the slightest things I did wrong… this was encouraged by the witnesses by their ‘spare the rod’ attitude and it only exacerbated the abuse I was to suffer; Whilst I don’t agree with spanking I can see why it happened back then…today however we are more intelligent and should be expected to look for alternative strategies when disciplining our children. My mother didn’t spank me though…she had a plastic spoon to start with which was scary…it was always on the mantle piece as a reminder to what would happen if I dared misbehaved. I remember a period in which it wasn’t used unless I was especially naughty or mischievous, but the spankings I received I always think were excessive, instead of one smack on the bum it would be several and each one gaining in intensity. I always remember counting 15 on one occasion.

The meetings were no different; although the discipline was kept for after the meeting at home; she would whisper on every occasion ‘that’s one smack’….that’s two smacks’ etc etc…I remember her losing count on one occasion but of course I hadn’t…needless to say I didn’t tell her; she would later in time often ask me how many I had counted probably because she had lost count again…so I chose a number which was lower than what was actual but enough to ensure she believed I was being honest. I also remember my constantly seeking approval from my mum by asking whether I had been good during the meeting…and hearing her grunt with little praise or encouragement.

I got the picture soon enough though and I behaved myself…didn’t talk…didn’t move... sometimes I would be allowed to draw and sometimes I wouldn’t…usually dependent upon whether an elder had suggested that I take notes as opposed to drawing cars and bikes… so I chose to do nothing.

It was difficult given that my mother would never push me forward socially and nothing was ever done by others to involve me either given that I wasn’t from a stable and well known family within the witnesses. It was difficult growing up in that period of time; not allowed to associate with friends from school and no replacement with other JW kids either. I will now jump forward to being 10 years old, the beatings had not been apparent for some time…I was subdued and subservient…i.e Well behaved. I did have quite an open channel with my mum at this time and I was free to be able to say what I thought…Id get a slap if I was disrespectful but provided it was respectful I could say what I pretty much wanted. The anger she had previously displayed either wasn’t there or I simply had got used to it…I have little memory other than what I have described.

My mum offered to put up a family attending a convention at Bolton Wanderers football ground and they had loads of kids…it was like a dream come true for the 5 days they were with us and it was great having friends to play with for once; we were invited by way of return to spend the summer holidays with them…two weeks in total up in sunny Cumbria sounds idyllic…hardly! (we also stayed with someone else in Chester but that is another story for another time).

This guy had ways of disciplining his kids not previously explored by my mother and surely enough my mum respected this guy’s opinion and everything he said was right, he was super spiritual and his wisdom was astounding…(to my mother that is). His view of me was that I was undisciplined and lippy…it was true I was articulate and I was quick witted; perhaps he found that threatening I don’t know!

His method of dealing with his kids was by way of a wooden stick from the garden and ruled his house with an iron fist; there were some enjoyable times in Cumbria and we would play all day in the sun…it was kind of idyllic but there was always a sour end to the day when he would look disapprovingly at me when I dared to open my mouth…he was very ‘children should be seen and not heard’ in his mentality but sorry this wasn’t me…I would be seen and would be heard…and he didn’t like it.

Upon our return home my mother’s attitude had changed…from being quite laid back she was aggressive, authoritarian and her new regime was exactly like the guys in Cumbria; her rules were for the most part identical to his…everything she said in her dealings with me were exactly like his with his kids; it was like living with a female version of him.

This continued….it was when I was 11 that I met one of my best friends Dave…and our friendship was struck up immediately in the usual way boys do…in a fight…I cant remember what we argued about but we both hit a stalemate and we both decided it would be less painful to be friends as opposed to enemies…he is shortly to be my best man at my wedding and like most genuine people left the witnesses some years ago…his reasons were principally to do with their stance on education…they tried to tell him that he shouldn’t go to University as it wouldn’t serve him well….he proved them wrong more than I was later to do…he’s just graduated with a PhD in Chemistry and his thesis involves the development of a drug which will have a dramatic effect on cancer research….the guy makes me sick…clever git!

I did eventually make friends (as difficult as they made it) and these friends (few as they are) are all either disfellowshipped or have simply just faded away like myself…it speaks volumes I think.

The treatment I was receiving was becoming unbearable I was approaching 13 years old and naturally developing my personality…i.e becoming rebellious! And I didn’t have a problem with my mother as such…my problem was her blindly following everything that prick in Cumbria was saying to her… which included ‘you have to knock that attitude out of him you know’ ‘he has no respect for you, you know’ ‘he will never make anything of himself you know’.

Sure enough the stick made a miraculous appearance in my house and I admit even at that cocky age that I was…it was scary…getting stripes across your arms and legs isn’t fantastic as you can imagine and the prospect was never good. I was getting bigger though and whilst I wouldn’t have dreamt of raising a hand to my mother I was getting frustrated with my treatment.

If I explained how I felt even respectfully this was being disrespectful and rebellious and I should just comply with the stupid rules that came from nowhere but that prick up in Cumbria. I even went to the elders who showed no sympathy as they probably thought the same as the fool in Cumbria but nothing was done.

At 14 years old I ran away from home…not just to the top of the road but I went missing for some hours…and hid away where I knew no one would look or find me. I went about 6pm and didn’t return until early hours in the morning; I was cold, hungry and thirsty but I swear even to this very day had I not been I wouldn’t have gone back.

The day previous I had mentioned to a friend at school what I had planned and bless him…he reported the issue unbeknown to me at that time; I returned home to a mother quite distraught and out of her mind with worry (I would normally be in by 8pm)…she knew I had ran away because I had taken my bike…and she had enforced a ban on using my bike for some reason and she knew I wouldn’t without reason go against her word….that sounds funny I know thinking back but me taking the bike my mum then realised something had with me had snapped.

My mother downplayed the issue to the social worker and as such he left without placing me at risk or taking any action at all. The threats subsided for a day or two even after a long chat with my mum there was no sign of her agreeing to just be herself…the same person she was 4 years previous without some prick telling her how to discipline me.

She couldn’t do that of course and after a conversation with this guy things returned to normal; I cant describe how it felt but I look back and it sends shivers down my spine even now but again things were building up inside me that were coming to a head; as a teenager I was very angry and aggressive and one evening I remember my mother losing her rag with me because I had dared to go against one of this guys rules and she swung back with the stick to hit me across my arms and I grabbed it off her and feeling it sting against the palm of my hand I snapped it in two or three pieces and still remember to this day what I screamed at her…I am not proud of it but I screamed that if she dared even think about hitting me with a stick again I would ram the stick ‘down her throat and make sure it fucking well choked her’.

I remember her shocked expression and I remember bursting into tears immediately afterwards…it was like a massive conflict between the anger that was bursting to get out and the inbuilt respect I had for my mother…I wouldn’t have dreamt of doing anything like what I had described but it was the only way to get the point across, it was like an accumulation of almost 5 years of absolute frustration and anger just boiling over. Things were about to change…

damselfly

Thanks for sharing part of your story. Does it feel like a relief to get some of that out in the open? I look forward to the next installment.

Damselfly

Legolas

I don't know what to say...........................I would give you a hug if I could!!

luna2

Wow, diamondblue...that's really something. I was a single mom of two boys...they got spankings, but not with sticks and things. Glad I didn't have some jerky abusive elder coaching me on the sidelines. I'm afraid I might have been influenced as your mother was. Scary!

Can't wait to hear the next installment.

stillajwexelder

Thanks for sharing - I am suprised you did not snap sooner - 'tis a very abusive religion

lisavegas420

Thank you for sharing.... The JW religion is so sick. I'm sorry you had to go though that.

I am looking forward to part two though

Lisa

My story - part One.

diamondblue1974

damselfly

Legolas

luna2

stillajwexelder

lisavegas420

Carol

Goldminer

Tez

anewme

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