firt of all, a bit of background.
i'm 26 years old, am a math major/english minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of jehovah's witnesses, babtized when i was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
i was raised on a farm in a witness family.
You have never been shunned by family members or people you considered close friends,
Again, I have lost much family, and am now an outsider. If you've not read my posts, I request that you not comment, simple as that. And thanks for having me. :-) lol
firt of all, a bit of background.
i'm 26 years old, am a math major/english minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of jehovah's witnesses, babtized when i was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
i was raised on a farm in a witness family.
Yeah, I'm apprehensive about them (and any medications for that matter). I have my doubts as to their effectiveness, and I strongly suspect they're mostly placebo pills. Double blind studies say otherwise, but I'm always curious who funded these studies. BTW, they're Welbutrin xl. I'm concerned with interactions with other medications also. I'm on two humulin insulins--r & n, synthroid 100 mcg, zestoretic 20/12.5 mg, and Diovan 160 mg. As you can see, I'm one screwed up mother. lol I should've been dead a long time ago.
firt of all, a bit of background.
i'm 26 years old, am a math major/english minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of jehovah's witnesses, babtized when i was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
i was raised on a farm in a witness family.
Oops, cut the last part of the last post off.
Forums don't bother me. No one here knows me, and they can't legitamately make judments on someone they don't know. :-) I meant no insult with my posts--I was merely trying to give a different perspective. At any rate, I wish all of you well.
firt of all, a bit of background.
i'm 26 years old, am a math major/english minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of jehovah's witnesses, babtized when i was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
i was raised on a farm in a witness family.
Thanks EvilForce. Like most places, I see good and bad here. The intention of my post was to try to help any I can to see that maybe they're holding on a bit too tight. I know I'm not in much of a place to give advice though. :-) Actually, the homework's not bad. I've got 3 2000 level lit classes this semester and the reading is light. I've got a Calculus course and a Spanish course. Spanish is what's killing me 'cause I lack the motivation to study it everyday, and my memory isn't what it used to be.
firt of all, a bit of background.
i'm 26 years old, am a math major/english minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of jehovah's witnesses, babtized when i was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
i was raised on a farm in a witness family.
Thanks Carmel, you have a great day also. :-) I'm not spending money on college. As I said, I have a full-tuition merit-based scholarhip. In fact, I'm being paid to go to school. Before calling a person lazy, I think knowing them in person would be a good idea. I'll not get into bickering over what is hatred or not, but I thik a person with an open mind can see the mocking, obsessive quality of many of the posts here. If you'll actually read my posts, you'll see that I don't agree with the witnesses on much.
firt of all, a bit of background.
i'm 26 years old, am a math major/english minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of jehovah's witnesses, babtized when i was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
i was raised on a farm in a witness family.
Thanks for the welcome guys. I suppose I don't really feel like part of any group right now though. Here's a short story I wrote in Fall of '03. It captures a small bit of the dark feelings. Couldn't sleep--that happens sometimes. :-)
The Climb
The young man stared out into the blackness, and the dark shadowed the world. He could not see, but he could feel. Stretching his arms out in front of him, he felt cold, hard rock; behind he felt hot, sticky worm-laden soil. His breath spewed out in streaks on the night air, and his frustration fought with his fear for front and center. As he turned to the left, he felt his foot kick a rock, and heard no sound as it landed far below. He turned the opposite direction, and found himself face to face with a smooth, glassy mirror, whose dim light portrayed the gray sky that was barely visible above.
A withered, rasping, hacking voice began talking, and he turned quickly to find an old, old man peevishly grinning at him. The old man said, ?Hello, son. I have a job for you to do, and when you?ve completed this task, you?ll be happy. Take this rock, and carry it with you as high as you can climb, and then place it where you like.? The old man then handed him the rock, and a small hammer to bust and climb his way to the top. ?And remember,? the man said, ?I?ll be watching everything you do.? With a fiendish laugh, the old man disappeared.
Although frightened, the young man felt somehow comforted that someone had felt him worthy of such a task. He felt the rock with his hands, and felt some letters etched in it. He could not read them, however, because the darkness was so vast. He tied the rock to his back with a rope he used as a belt, and began climbing the rocky wall. For endless hours he struggled to find handholds, using his hammer to bust crevices in the damp darkness. His fingers bled and his mind ached, but on he struggled. He kept thinking of the happiness the old man had promised. Periodically, he would find rats burrowed in small holes, and he ate them raw--he was starving. As the maroon, greenish blood dripped down his chin, he wondered if there was anything else he would ever find for nourishment. On and on he struggled, and days turned into months and months into years. The closer he came to the top, the more a dim green tinted ray of light illuminated the rock.
One day, he started to meet other climbers. Some of them were old and crippled, and some had fallen and were lying dead. All of them had a sad look on their face, and all of them carried large rocks. One girl he met told him of the top, that she had been. She told him of the endless green meadows and the laughter of children, and how there was a beauteous glow of light. ?Once you make the top, all your troubles are over.? she said. She had been, but had come down looking for her son who never made it. They shared a mama rat, and the young man went on with a renewed vigor.
The young man was no longer young, and he had a long, flowing white beard. He didn?t count time anymore, all he knew was an endless repetition. Bloody hands, bruised heels and feet, and swollen, bloody rats were his life. The light had increased, but the darkness would never leave. The cliff had grown sharp with rocks, and the hammer had worn out. While in a state of despair, the weird old man appeared again, and said ?You?ve worked hard, I have a new hammer for you. I know it?s smaller, but you?re lucky I?m helping you at all. Just think, when you reach the top, you?ll be happy.? And he vanished as quickly as he appeared.
The old man pushed upward, ever clinging to his hope and purpose. The light had increased to where he could almost read the writing on the stone. He grew excited with the realization that he would soon achieve his goal. All his hard work would be worth his trouble, and he would find happiness. Long nights of suffering pain would yield to peaceful, summer afternoons in complete bliss; although he had never felt the summer sun and had never seen the light of day. He would realize the fruits of his labor, and all of his toil would be rewarded. Onward he struggled with his little hammer. Sparks flew from the little hammer and ignited the stagnant, gaseous air--the same air he?d been breathing all his life. The heat boiled his blood, and sweat ran in little streams into his eyes and off of his nose. Yet onward he climbed faithful to his commission.
And then, weather-beaten and weary, he pulled his aching body over the last jagged edge of rock between him and the top. Taking the stone and planting it in the ground, he could now read the words in the pale light of day. Carved in the face of the time-weathered stone were the words ?Rest in Peace.? A sinister voice boomed out of the frigid air in a bone-chilling laugh, a cold wind howled and sent him flying into the precipice, and he realized that he was happy: the climb was over.
firt of all, a bit of background.
i'm 26 years old, am a math major/english minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of jehovah's witnesses, babtized when i was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
i was raised on a farm in a witness family.
My post sounds much more positive than I actually am. Truthfully, I've been suicidal for a couple of years now. I suppose it's a feeling of pointlessness, like I can find no reason that anyone wants to live. Part of the cause was my loss of faith/change of beliefs, but the majority is the stress I'm under. Even now, I'm under stress. I'm taking 18 semester hours in college while working 3 part-time jobs. I get up at six and get off my last job at midnight.
I saw a psychiatrist for the first time in my life last week, and she prescribed some medication for me. Perhaps it will help--I don't know.
About being gay, I'm undecided whether it's right or wrong--but I really don't care because I don't have to worry about it. It's not my concern. I grew up thinking it was wrong (a teaching of the congregation), but now I'm questioning all my beliefs. I have enough trouble dealing with my own sexuality--it has such a negative stigma that really isn't natural, I think. I'm single, but am dealing with a break-up with one of my former professors--she's married. She was thinking of leaving her husband, and we were extrememly close for a long time. They reconciled, and that's been tough to deal with. But, I'm tired, think I'll go to bed.
firt of all, a bit of background.
i'm 26 years old, am a math major/english minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of jehovah's witnesses, babtized when i was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
i was raised on a farm in a witness family.
Perhaps not seeing experiences through others' eyes is a common human folly. Sexual abuse is a great crime, and I in no way mean to lessen or undermine the legitamacy of the suffering such victims have endured. Regarding blood issues, what's more important. Living a long life compromising your core beliefs (even if they're wrong), or living a shortened live being true to yourself? I know that blood is a complex issue, but I can see both sides. As far as shunning--I'm now shunned, just not officially. I've had many relatives lost when they went "astray." I've been on both sides, and neither one was a pleasant experience. Such is life.
firt of all, a bit of background.
i'm 26 years old, am a math major/english minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of jehovah's witnesses, babtized when i was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
i was raised on a farm in a witness family.
Mom died in '03, not '93. That was a typo.
firt of all, a bit of background.
i'm 26 years old, am a math major/english minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of jehovah's witnesses, babtized when i was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
i was raised on a farm in a witness family.
Firt of all, a bit of background. I'm 26 years old, am a Math major/English minor senior on a full scholarhip in college, was raised as one of Jehovah's Witnesses, babtized when I was 18, left at ~ 22/23, am now agnostic/deist/confused.
I was raised on a farm in a witness family. My childhood was mostly happy--the congregation and my family were some of my best friends and mentors. However, I was diagnosed with diabetes when I was 5 years old which is an immuno-deficiency disease which steemed from a bout with scarlet fever.
At 14, my father and sister were in an extremely serious car-accident, with forever-changed personalities and dismal prospects. My father was unconscious for several months, and he still requires 24/7 care. His severe head injury rendered him almost impossible to live with. He is only now able to remain calm for more than 5 minutes at a time.
I tried to take care of the family farm, and I actually made it for a couple of years; however I dropped out of school from stress and time constraints and the farm went bankrupt anyway when cattle prices dropped. I nearly died at age 18 from graves disease--a thyroid disorder which cased me to lose massive ammounts of weight while eating copious amounts of food and having a pulse that never retarded below 200, and absobnia which caused me to stay awake 23 hours out of every day. Needless to say, I was under a lot of stress. I had to quit my job as an HVAC techinician because of health. I'll not go into any details here, there are many, but I'm just trying to convey some of the stress I was under. The congregation was an invaluable asset during this time. They didn't just help my family, they felt our pain. They were friends when we needed friends most. I still admire every one of them for what they did and I always will.
Now I come to my complicated feelings regarding witnesses. I admire them for standing up for their beliefs--I wish more people would. However, they do have a way of making thier members feel inadequate. Of course, I think most people feel inadequate, but the high expectations of Jehovah's Witnesses only exacerbates this feeling when many members inevitably fail to live up to their goals. But, is it better to have goals too high, or to have none so we'll never fail? I believe the former is better, but herein lies the conflict. When goals run contrary to what a person believes, then beliefe must change. Mine have.
I've decided that truth is an intangible constant that can never be constant in human minds. All we have is our perception, which changes from person to person when viewed through our individual filters on our world. I've given up on finding truth. Perhaps I'm lazy, but sobeit. I can no longer ponder incessantly on matters on which I'll never have definitive proof. Such effort is like trying to push over a brick wall, or, more likely, like having a complex logic puzzle with no answer. With no answer, there can be no satisfaction, with no answer, there can be little aside from frustration.
So, I'm no longer a Christian. Having to give up the friendship of the congregations has been tough, but I don't blaime them for my decision. I've never felt brainwashed. I freely chose to serve a God; now I freely choose not to. I don't blaime Jehovah's Witness for not helping me more--I know, as my friends, they helped me as much as was possible. I didn't sit on my rear and complain that no one was coming to help me. Knowing their dismay of my current beliefs is not only a source of pain for me, but for them as well. But that is life. I knew full well when I dedicated my life to Jehovah that I was putting that dedication ahead of every other thing, and I expect no less from the other Witnesses who still beleive. I know that their compromising their faith by speaking with me would be a cause of great turmoil for them. Why should I hate them for that?
Well, guys, I've spent some time reading the posts here, and I'm highly bothered by the negativity I'm feeling. A common theme seems to be that the Witnesses exert too much control over members. Interestingly, do you think you're not being controlled by your incessant hatred on this site? Why not let things go?
Here's what I think. I think everyone here (including myself) feels inadequate. I think many here resent Witnesses because they were made to feel inadequate. But, I don't think blaiming the Witnesses for feelings of inadequacy is fair. No friends, that feeling of inadequacy will be present no matter your course in life. I think people become Witnesses from a deep-seated dissonance of the world and all that's wrong with the world. We are much too easily pessimistic. Why do you think the Utopia of paradise was so appealing?
That's the core problem methinks. We must learn to be happy with our surroundings. We must learn to look for the good in people rather than the bad. I implore you, don't hate. If you feel bitter towards Witnesses, try to think of the better understanding you now have of human nature that you wouldn't have gained without them. Open yourself to other possibilities. Don't diss your former friends for not being perfect. Remember, they're exerting just as much effort to be happy as you are. While it may feel they hate you--they don't. They're petrified of your new beliefs. They still want to help you, but they don't know how.
When my mother died of cancer in '93 (I've never been dissfellowshipped), many Witnesses came and tried to console me. That was a damned hard time for me. I had to watch my mother die slowly over a year, screaming in agony for death near the end. I can't describe the torture I felt when my former brothers and sisters would come up to me and say things like "It's only temporary, we'll see her again." Could I dismay them by telling them I didn't believe? No. Did it hurt like Hell to hear these words? Yes. Did I appreciate their intentions? Yes. I think the most depressing thing in my life now is knowing that Mom died thinking she would be resurrected. But I would suffer many times worse to give her the peace of mind that her belief did.
Well, I've got a lot more I could say, but I'm wore out. Please pardon any typos, as I just typed this and didn't proofread anything. I guess the salient point I'm trying to convey is please, ladies and gentlemen, find and regain the love in your hearts you once had. Don't despise and hate people who stand for their beliefs, even when those beliefs are different from your own. Rather, despise apathy and indifference. In the end, I think it's love in our hearts that matters the most; afterall, we're all in the same boat.
