"SD-7 is no longer one of Jehovah's Witnesses."
I always imagined this day would come. I'm not sure exactly how I knew. I just knew it. It was always something I imagined would be a horrible day, in the darkest hour of my life.
It's funny how life pulls the rug out from under you sometimes. I think when you're close to the people on the inside, it hits you harder. I was in a new congregation, and had gradually distanced myself from the people even in my old congregation. The fact is, there are those I would have liked to say goodbye to. They're very few, though, very few. And in the end, there were sacrifices that had to be made. I understood that the moment my eyes were opened, the price I would have to pay.
I don't feel free. I've nothing to rejoice over. The woman I love is convinced that my path is wrong. No matter my beliefs, I should go along with this religion until Jehovah decides to 'fix' the situation. Everyone she talks to will convince her that I betrayed her, that I fell prey to satanic reasoning and left merely because I didn't want to serve God. And she will look at me, and I will see those thoughts behind her beautiful eyes. And my heart will break every time. Because those thoughts are written across her eyes so boldly that I can almost read them.
I'm not interested in getting her out anymore. She made my expulsion possible, whereas I could have delayed it long enough to maintain the status quo and keep the peace. Since she trusts them blindly, and distrusts me blindly, I leave her to that. I respect her choice. She has the right to believe as she wants to believe.
In reading Robert Jay Lifton's book on thought reform, about some who were released from Communist Chinese prisons, I could see the stories of so many of you in those words. You think about the structure, the order that once was, and a part of you, somewhere in there, misses it just a little. Perhaps I can see some of that in myself.
I said to the elders, towards the end of my committee, "It would be nice to believe the things I believed as a child. But I'm not a child anymore." It is a difficult coming of age, and so much has gone so wrong in all of this.
I had the chance to walk away, to leave it all behind. But I stayed longer than I should have, because I loved her. But I made a choice that was ultimately selfish and morally wrong. I should not have brought her into this. I have to live every day knowing that I put my wife through unimaginable pain, continuing pain, because of my choice.
The only thing is, she might have called me one day, after I left, wondering why. And what could I have told her? What could I have said to the woman I'd been waiting 5 years for? 'Sorry, you weren't important enough to wait a little longer'? Of course, one has to remember that a loyal Witness doesn't think like that. He doesn't think in terms of people. He thinks in terms of what 'Jehovah's will' may be on the matter.
She wondered sometimes...if I was going to come home. Or if maybe...I was going to snap and commit suicide or even try to harm her or the child. I put that on her. And then I put the shame of being married to an apostate on her. Even if the Witnesses are wrong, was it morally irresponsible of me to involve her? I believe it was.
And yet...is my moral responsibility to her to overshadow the Watchtower Society's moral responsibility to 7,000,000 people? Was it irresponsible to take a stand for what I believe? Would it have been better to surrender my intellectual freedom once again?
I had the chance. I could have declared my undying affection for the 'faithful slave' and its 'food at the proper time'. And maybe I would have been able to spare myself all of this. But I would have felt like less than a man if I did that. The elders did enough to insult my manhood as it was. In my belief, a man takes responsibility for his decisions--even the ones he made when he wasn't a man yet. I was a kid when I got baptized, and according to them, I'd cut a deal with the organization, so what happened? I didn't have all the information I needed at that time to devote my life to this religion. That's what happened.
Being on the outside, there are so many thoughts flying through my head. You could...finally go to a bar if you wanted, without feeling terrified or guilty. Couldn't get too friendly with the ladies, of course, what with the ring on your finger. You could...write that novel you always wanted to write, without worrying that the content might be inappropriate. You could...feel alive. Not feel like you had to second-guess your every move or consult an internal Watchtower Publications Index for each decision. I don't know what other possibilities there are. I don't really want to go to a bar--though I did get to meet someone I first met here at a bar recently, which was awesome, you know who you are if you ever read this. But just...knowing that I could is worth something. I'd probably just get a root beer, though, watch a game or two, at most. Just to feel free to do so is enough.
It's like...in the back of my mind I feel like I have something to prove to them. They want to see if you'll go door-to-door with your message (a fruitless endeavor, inefficient and hard on the legs), or if you'll just kick back and do nothing, showing that you just didn't want to do any work for God. Or if you'll cheat on your wife with some apostate or some worldly woman, showing that you really just lacked moral character.
I've been out for less than 24 hours, and thus far, I've talked to a co-worker about the things I've learned about this religion, and done my work, and checked some things out here.
My mother said I'd be left with people on a computer, left "with nothing" were her actual words. But the people I knew on the inside, when I talked to them about things that were troubling me, that was when I was left with nothing. Nothing but things I'd already read in a Watchtower. Different ideas, reasonable possibilities--no such things existed. No comfort. Just warnings, threats, 'get back to work'. I refused to believe that merely suppressing my pains or drowning them in field service would make them go away. I spoke to a pioneer not long before I started fading, and was surprised to find that she was just as depressed and thinking of suicide as I was. I wondered, well, I thought this stuff makes you happy. Maybe no one here really is, and we're all just collectively faking it for each other's sake. Well, I can't do that anymore. I can't pretend I don't see.
I am no longer one of Jehovah's Witnesses. But I am a person. I am a human being, a part of a world of human beings, beings that the Jesus they claim to believe in died for, too.
So, unknown and uncharted waters are ahead. Freedom is not free, they say. I earned it at the cost of many things. I hurt a lot of people, emotionally. I caused a lot of pain. But as my pain was overlooked all those years, suppressed for the sake of a collective 'good', I have no choice but to turn a blind eye. They will blame me, label me the outcast. They will soothe themselves with the same motherly assurances they have always used so they could go to sleep at night. And I, for my part, will let them.
So I grow sick of the need to say, "I'm disfellowshipped." I'm not disfellowshipped. I'm Christopher. So don't ever call me anything except my name. I am not a status in a religious group that forms 1/1000th of the population of one planet in one solar system in one galaxy amongst billions. I am a person. That's all I ever was, and all I ever will be.
Those are my thoughts in this moment. As I faced what had to be done, I learned to control my emotions. This religion loves to use those emotions against you. Adults learn not to be so manipulated.
I hope you all are doing well. I'm glad we're able to come here and share our struggles. In that way, we are united far more than any religion we ever once belonged to can imagine.
--SD-7
