I never actually enjoyed being a witness much. I detested meetings and door to door work. I just regarded those activities as essential to my surviving armageddon. I was always full of guilt and ready to confess to anything so that I might be "clean in Jehovah's eyes" and not be destroyed. I had classic fear of abandonment symtoms. But all the same, I just didn't want it to be true. I guess I was subconsciously looking for a way out.
The crunch came after one particular group night. We were studying a book - I forget which one - that was trying to interpret the prophecies of Ezekiel. It was just so stupid that I wondered what the hell I was doing in such a daft religion. I became a disbeliever overnight.
I'd been in a grim marriage to a JW woman. I'd been "on the rebound" when we'd met. My life at home was shit.
Within a couple of days, glimmerings of possibilties began to surface in my mind. No more meetings. No more door to door work. I could smoke a cigar. I could buy a gold Dunhill lighter and grow my hair long. I could play snooker and gamble on the outcome. I could go to a boxing match. I could get drunk. I could visit discos, x-rated films, celebrate Christmas and birthdays, join a squash club and, particularly, catch up with some recently disfellowshipped old friends.
So I did all those things. I enjoyed them all hugely at the time.
I have no regrets.