The Hermit's story PART 4

by The Hermit 7 Replies latest jw experiences

  • The Hermit
    The Hermit

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    Part 4 1992-1994

    After the events of April 1992 my dad went through a drastic change of attitude. He would order as many books he could from the hall's library; the green Insight books, bound volumes of past Watchowers and Awake magazines, Interlinear Greek Scriptures, Reasoning from the Scritpures, the list goes on. In those days you had to go to his special room he called his Office if you wanted to find him, usually sitting at his desk with his nose in the WT books and writing stuff down on paper. That was his way to Personal Study.

    At home we had Family Worship. It was awful, I hated it. It was the platform my father used to contradict and severely criticise the official doctrine. We just couldn't understand what he was saying, he was the only one in the house who had read those giant books. Mom would read Daily Texts and Yearbooks and she'd underline the answers from her Watchtower but that was it. She had no deep understanding of her own religion but as far as she could tell Dad was starting to sound a lot like an apostate and it was causing her great stress. More often than not Family Worship would end up with dad telling mom she was being stupid and ignorant, that she didn't know how to read and my mother would end up sobbing loudly in the living room.

    ''Can I go now?'' I'd ask. All I wanted was to get back to my room and resume playing with my toys.

    ''No. Son this is important. The Revelation Climax book is full of assumptions and lies. The Watchtower uses numerology to give meaning to certain numbers and dates. That is numerology and that's a sin. We shouldn't try to decode the Scriptures, that's a sin. The Bible just means what it means, there's no hidden message. Got it?''

    ''Err... got it.'' I'd feel so uneasy... and situations like that happened once a week. BTW I'm not here to discuss my father's opinions on what makes a sin a sin. Also I couldn't care less about numerology and its definition.

    To hear those words would cue my mom to yell at my dad from the living room to leave me alone with his bullshit. So after a while Family Worship was canceled. My father would study in his office and Mom and I could watch TV.

    At the KH dad would almost never raise his hand. I remember he gave a few public talks. I don't remember the details but my dad's talks were like sermons, very preachy and just a tad on the aggressive side. He made heavy use of the Bible and he would often refer to the King James version. In fact when we'd be courteously invited by a speaker to read some verse in our NWT bibles, he would read from his King James. He really thought he had it better than the Watchtower and that wasn't really flying with the Elders but they were afraid of him. Dad was very tall and solidly built, he had been a fireman for like 15 years. To top that he was angry and everyone could read it on his face. He had a face that said ''Don't f**k with me.'' Funny though how William Tyndale was considered a hero by the WT and how the WT would constantly quote from the Septuagint but the rank and file better had to read from the NWT, the Official Bible of Jehovah's Sheeple.

    I hated the Revelation Climax book. Maybe my dad was at fault for this but I just hated that book. The idea of presenting myself as a bride disgusted me. I was a boy, how could I become a bride? What the hell was wrong with these people? The idea of becoming a sheep, yuck. I've always hated sheep. They're always dirty, they taste bad, they have those weird eyes and they look plain stupid to me. Goats are funny though, they eat everything they please and they don't do what they're told. I wanted to be a goat. Sheep suck. Sometimes I would zone out and daydream. One day I would rebel against all of this. One day I'd throw my stupid books across the hall, make a scene and yell ''I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!'' One day. My little fantasy world was a violent one. But then I'd snap back to the reality of the boring meeting that was still going on. I had to fight to remain calm and push my frustration down inside my stomach. On occasions like these my heart would pump as anger boiled inside, rushing to my head like tidal waves. The frequent spanking of young kids in the backroom only made it worse. It revolted me. I'd whisper: ''Dad, give me a Rolaids please''. He always carried Rolaids.

    I really enjoyed the Book Study with the Greatest Man book. That was a nice book. I've always liked Jesus, not that I would call myself a christian by any means but that Jesus guy sure was nice. If he ever existed.

    After a while my dad started his own business and he would skip more and more meetings and field service altogether. He and my mom were becoming increasingly unhappy, mom in particular. At the conventions dad could hardly sit still. He was always going to the bathroom. At a district convention he even carried a little transistor radio to follow the meeting from the corridors he said. When we'd get back home Mom would often break down right in the middle of the living room, throwing herself on the floor screaming that she couldn't go on and threatening that she would kill herself. Maybe she was having problems digesting all the Spiritual Meals from the Spiritual Banquet. Seriously though, it was hell. No wait, hell does not exist. It was Gehenna. I'd go upstairs to my room and wonder what exactly was happening here? How can someone think of committing suicide? It was nonsense! Our instinct makes us fear death and crave life am I right?

    School was so much better. I couldn't wait til Monday morning.


    There will be a PART 5, don't worry :D I would never have imagined that I had so much to say.

  • zeb

    I am ever thankful that I never became hard core.

    That I had work with odd hours that prevented 'regular' attendance. Your story is profound and tragic but warming too. thankyou next chapter please.

  • Introvert 2
    Introvert 2

    Merci Le Hermit ! Belle job man !

    So sorry for you and the foot stomping episode, those people are pathetic. If you are a francophone you write exceptionally well, you have a gift for it ! Thanks for telling us your life's story it's a great help for many of us here. Nice to have you.

    Bon W-E

  • The Hermit
    The Hermit

    Thanks guys :D Yes I'm a francophone but my grandmother on my father's side was American. At home we spoke French exclusively but when my cousins and I were together all of us youngsters would speak Frenglish haha! Parles-tu français Introvert? On dirait bien! Like I said before I read a lot, English or French it doesn't matter so maybe that's why it's so easy for me to write. I'm just shy to speak in English. I mean I can and I know I speak well enough but it makes me shy.

    The hardest part was to translate the French terms from the Lexique du Bon Témoin de Jéhovah (I just made that one up :P ) to English. Book titles, Septante = Septuagint, Festin Spirituel = Spiritual Banquet, etc. Thank you Google for that. But other that I just turn my brain in English mode and off I go.

  • NVR2L8
    Nice to read your story The Hermit. Details from your story makes me believe that I once lived in the same city as your family (there's only one Shriners hospital in Canada)...and je parle français. I moved away 2 decades ago but I still have family very active including a brother who has assembly parts every year. You can PM me if you wish.
  • Introvert 2
    Introvert 2
    Cool yeah I'm in the Montreal area. Anyone feel free to PM me, and thanks again Hermit ! Merci encore !
  • Clambake
    Your dad sounds like a pretty stand up guy. People like him are the reason they dumbed down the literature.
  • PaintedToeNail

    Hermit-I love your stories! I'm glad you are cancer free. So sorry about that wretched girl who stomped your foot. What a brat! Her family's attitude was awful. So was the congregation's. I'm glad you were able to discover so real friends at school who cared about you. Your English is excellent!

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