My life wasn't so bad. Thank God my dad wasn't a JW and lent some balance to my life. Mom is a true beleiver. Birthdays and Christmas ended (she took awhile to commit, but my whole life was spent mired in it) when I was 8 or so. I had regular nightmares and daymares about persecution. Fortunately, while there were a few asses in the cong, most of the folks were good hearted and well meaning. My parents loved each other and our relatives put up with my mom's weird religious inclinations pretty graciously. School was hard-being different and feeling obligated to underline it (my own worst enemy at times, trying to PROVE (to myself) that I had the truth. Then when I realized it wasn't the truth, I felt obligated (by the teachings drummed into me my whole life about being in the truth) to say what I really thought. Placed me in an awkward position at 15.
Yeah, I did see the whole 1975 thing and NO, it wasn't a made up drama by mad ex-JWs. I was there.