I recently picked up the book “I’m Perfect, You’re Doomed: Tales from a Jehovah’s Witness Upbringing,” by Kyria Abrahams, from the library.

It’s a story about a girl growing up as a Jehovah’s Witness, later to be “disfellowshipped.” I’m not particularly interested in reading about JWs but a snippet from the cover jacket caught my eye …

“… explores the ironic absurdity of growing up believing that nothing matters because everything’s about to be destroyed.”

And that resonated with me, because that’s pretty much what I grew up believing.

I wasn’t taken to particularly extreme churches as a child, but the groundwork was laid. And when I found myself cast out of my mother’s house after turning 18, newly married and out in the real world on my own for the first time in my life, that early conditioning took control.

I never finished high school. I was failed my senior year for handing out “Chick tracts,” and I didn’t go back. College was out of the question because the rapture would happen any minute, why waste time in class when I could be out “winning souls.” Not that — to my knowledge — I ever actually won any souls. Funny how constantly arguing with people about how wrong they are tends to turn them away.

Eventually I realized how insane I was being and quit. Quit everything to do with Christianity. In fact, I declared myself pagan. But by that time the damage was done. I was too busy earning a living to go back to school. I’d found myself a career that I was good at that didn’t require schooling (photojournalism) and I coasted on that for nearly 10 years.

Now here I am 31 years old trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life. One thing I will be doing … living.

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