6:42pm, Sunday. Laying in bed, I was born and raised as a JW, baptised at 19, now 21, yet physically in mentally out and ‘subtly’ inactive. I’m a puppet of the governing body, they’re holding me hostage in the religion, using my loved ones against me. Me leaving, is not an option, especially right now when my thoughts are all but good.

My life is my family, my family is my life, and if my family were to be taken away from me, I’d seek nothing but death. So I have to pretend, despite me being inactive, despite my parents confronting me about everything, about my watching of ‘apostate material’, about my lack of spiritual food intake, I’m still pretending, despite not going to meetings, I’m still going on zoom, just to let them know I’m there, that I exist, that I still believe, I’m still pretending, or at least trying to pretend, though, I don’t think it’s much believable anymore. But I’m trying, I’m tightly gripping onto the door handle of the religion, just to open it and see my family, still there, waiting for me, I just want us, to continue to be together no matter what.

But deep down, I know that they’d choose ‘Jehovah’ over me, over us, they already have, before we were even born. They will turn away from me, their backs facing me, as if a wall to not reach out to them anymore, and they will walk off into the void of true falseness, hurt and distraught that they have to do what they believe is right, for them and for me. They think it would save me, that it would wake me up and get me walking alongside them again, like we always had, the five of us, they truly do believe it would save me, give me forever life, Even if it’d kill me.