Faith is a Fine Invention by Emily Dickinson
“Faith” is a fine invention
For Gentlemen who see!
But Microscopes are prudent
In an Emergency!
Comment on a post by Reddit user fnatic_questions
Thanks for the story. I’m PIMO and married. My wife knows I have doubts. I’ve been trying to help her see things differently since I woke up six months ago, just by pointing out people’s political bias and how they dismiss evidence and pointing out characteristics of other high control groups. She gets it but she still can’t make the connection to her own beliefs. After the convention (and reading some experiences here) I decided it was time for me to make a choice about what kind of life I was going to live and be honest with her about that. Today I came clean with her about how little I actually believe. I stuck with child abuse policies, generation teaching, and 607. I tried not to be too critical.
It went about as you’d expect. She feels betrayed, she didn’t sign up for this. She thinks I’ve been deceived by satans false evidence. She thinks it doesn’t matter if the predictions are right or not, we just need to serve. She knows it’s the truth and she knows I’m wrong. She can’t imagine living a life with a worldly husband. But posts like yours give me hope. I know there’s a logical reasonable person in there somewhere. Maybe someday she’ll wake up. I’ve realized that it’s not something that will happen overnight or in a matter of months. It may take years. But maybe someday.
Faith – is the Pierless Bridge by Emily Dickinson
Faith – is the Pierless Bridge
Supporting what We see
Unto the Scene that We do not –
Too slender for the eye
It bears the Soul as bold
As it were rocked in Steel
With Arms of Steel at either side –
It joins – behind the Veil
To what, could We presume
The Bridge would cease to be
To Our far, vacillating Feet
A first Necessity.
Comment on “Roll Call. Fully awake spouses” by Reddit user Jordanwiththefade – April 2018
Married 16 years. Was PIMO for most of our marriage, but realized it was more cult than religion about 5 years ago.
I told my wife my thoughts and wrote a detailed outline of why I did not believe our kids should be raised as JWs. She still hasn’t read it.
I stopped going 3 years ago, when I realized I needed to stop so my kids would not think I agreed with JWs.
All hell broke loose from there. Marriage has been up and down, and very bad at times. My psychological well being has really suffered and I can get suicidal at times, although of late, not so much.
I told my wife that I don’t want my kids going, and after numerous arguments, I used the religion against her, and had my elder dad tell her she had to respect my headship. Priceless.
Anyway, my wife doesn’t go anymore, but blames me for that, although it is the kids, not her, that I don’t want going.
Not sure how this turns out, but it has been rough. Basically shunned by most, but not df’d.
It is hard to make friends with non JWs, as my wife still is hung up on holidays and birthdays, so we are always fringe friends, if that makes sense.
My kids are doing good though, and that is all that matters. They play sports, do well in school, and are leading fairly normal lives. They have college as a goal instead of pioneering, and my oldest is aiming to go to Princeton. No matter if he makes that goal or not, he’ll be just fine, because he is focused on leading a productive and normal life, and I could not be prouder.
I don’t want to be coolly observed
Studied like the subject of a lab experiment
While you carefully notate each abnormality,
Each departure from the Control.
I don’t want you to be the pole while
I am the wildly swinging ball
Flinging myself here and there and everywhere
Nonetheless still Tethered.
I don’t want you to let me go
In there for painful treatments because
You think they’re good for me
Doors swinging closed while you watch from Above.
I want you to get down here with me
Feel the vortex pulling, begging, needing you
To be sucked in and ripped up
Not knowing who’s who in the Spiraling.
But no, you’re out there
Congratulating yourself for staying unentangled,
Surveying me through a one-way mirror
With the key swinging from your Pocket.