Melissa, my sister, committed suicide.
03-15-2020
Before my sister was born the man that studied with my brown headed parents said, “If the baby has blue eyes and red hair can I have her?” My mother laughed and said, “Absolutely!” Well guess what happened? Red headed and blue eyes. Brother Smith joked when he came to the hospital, “I am here to pick up my baby!”
So was the beginning of Melissa Rynn Bowen, my sister. She was a happy child that had a fiery temper to match her hair. She also had her own way of thinking about things. When she was about four she stepped on a piece of glass. My mother asked, “How did you cut your foot?” My sister exclaimed, “I didn’t cut my foot! The glass did!” On another occasion when my mother took her to the doctor, he said, “How are you doing carrot top!” To the rotund Doctor she replied, “Just fine doctor Pumpkin head!” Don’t mess with a red head. A few years later as her older brother I loved to tease her but one day I learned the boundary to that teasing. Our parents had left for town and so I started picking at her. You could see her temper rising, but I kept on. She was seven years old, but she went to the kitchen and got a steak knife determined to murder me. You should have seen the priceless look on my face when I saw her coming! I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. She stabbed the door over and over again. As you can guess I never teased her excessively again.
When I returned from Bethel we went to one of the very first pioneer schools together in 1979. We continued together in that work for four more years. Our father became a substitute Circuit Overseer so my sister and I became the dynamic duo that came in on the weekends to the congregations he served and taught the young people how to be good JWs. While we did do service we also took them out to outings like swimming in the rivers, hiking, picnics, movies (pg of course), parties and many other fun things. We encouraged many of the youth to pioneer and go to Bethel. Many did in fact.
Melissa or Missy as we called her, loved to laugh. I could tell a few jokes and have her literally rolling on the floor. I loved to make her laugh and as her big brother always took care of her and tried to keep her safe. She at times was hard headed and would not listen to my advice and then after things blew up would acknowledge that I had told her so.
My sister was a free spirit that loved to dance and express her feeling through it. If left to her own future she would no doubt have wound up in Hollywood starring in movies. Yet that was of course suppressed by the religion of her birth. Yet, at times, it managed to leak out. She often performed at the JW talent shows and at our JW parties she often had the most outlandish outfits. In our small town she landed a gig being a mannequin in a department store window. After being perfectly still for some time, the music would start and she would turn into a dancing robot. People were mesmerized and she even landed an article in the local newspaper. All this was done while she was a pioneer! How did she get away with it? Well her dad was the PO and as you know, those kids get away with more stuff.
In time I got married, moved away and frankly I think my sister never could accept that I could not be around her every day. She in some ways needed the structure of the organization to keep her in line and yet in other ways they never had control of her at all. Missy got married not long after I and I was best man at her wedding as she was maid of honor at mine. At both weddings due to knowing so many people there was well, over 400 in attendance. We had a band, danced and partied the night away. Afterward her husband and I worked for Trimline, a JW ran organization that put pinstripes and molding on new cars. We would meet and have a visit, play cards, or do some activity but as things go, in time we grew apart due to distance and changed jobs.
The other side of the equation was we were both raised by a BPD mother. For those that understand, it means on certain days and times you are never a good enough person and they tell you all the reasons you are worthless. This becomes the perfect storm when you mix in a religion that teaches you from birth that you are basically unworthy of anything and will probably never make it into the paradise earth. This “storm” was devastating to my sister. While I coped by distancing myself from my parents and living my own life within the religion, my sister as that free spirit could not cope with the emotional pain of not having the approval of her mother. She constantly sought the approval from two places that would never happen. My mother and the religion. In the end she developed coping mechanisms much like many JWs do within the religion. Prescription medication and alcohol. Then there was morality. Missy often coped with emotional pain by engaging sexually. So if she got into a fight with her husband she would go to a bar and as a JW woman did not have the skills to tell a man no. This ultimately resulted in three failed marriages along with further depression and poor decisions. Through it all she was never allowed to forget by my mother and the organization, what a worthless person she to them really was.
In 2006 Missy got disfellowshipped and reached out to me. We began a new relationship and I often spent the night at her home when we were on our way to Texas to visit my wife’s family. One night when she got to talking about how she was treated by the elders I suggested that she might need to take a hard look at the organization and its origins. I said I would be happy to provide her with some information. I will never forget her reaction. Her face turned bright red and the temper exploded. She stated, “Never say anything negative to me about JWs, as I aspire some day to be a JW again.” I said, “Missy, that is the difference between you and I, as I aspire to never lower my integrity to that level. But I promise you I will never talk to you about JWs again” About a month later she crashed her car into a rock face going over 80 miles an hour. She was passed out on drugs and alcohol, the wreck caused her right leg and left arm to be crushed and she was in a wheel chair for six months. They said if she was not passed out it would have surely killed her. Missy was reinstated and the cycle started all over again, in about two years she was DF again. This made her third time, so the “elders” were in no hurry to let her back in. Missy found a successful worldly man that fell madly in love with her. She told him he would have to be a JW before she would marry him. So he started studying and in a matter of months, to love bomb him, they had to reinstate her. Then like her two other husbands my mother started in on how they were not worthy of my sister, how worthless they were, every single flaw magnified and blown out of proportion. My sister was poisoned with the vitriol spewed by my mother and in the end, this third marriage ended as a result. How did this help my sister? Now she was left to my mother’s designs of never being good enough for anyone or anything.
My sister was always a huge animal lover. She always had several cats and dogs that she kept in her life. She became an animal trainer and loved to help other people with their pets. As I think about it, in retrospect, it was through the animals that she gained acceptance. They loved her for who she was with no expectations and that was one of the few places she could feel at peace. Yet in so many other areas that peace was smashed to smithereens. Her health diminished due to the injuries from the accident with drinking and prescription meds being the only way to cope. The religion was always there to remind her that those missed meetings or field service would surely result in losing the golden ticket to paradise. Then there was my mother reminding her not to ask her for help and to stay out of her life unless it benefitted her in some way. You see with a BPD they love the be the hero, to come in at the last second and save the day after they have pushed you off the cliff earlier. So when my sister would be at the most desperate points there would be some money for rent or food. This of course gave my mother bragging rights to the congregation and everyone else that would listen.
My last contact with Melissa was at my Dad’s funeral in 2012. At the funeral JW family often declare a truce and you are treated as if nothing ever happened, at least by immediate family. The rest worked their little selves into a tizzy by trying to out shun me with one another at the funeral. I of course wrote about this and some of my observations. It really reflected badly on the organization, but it was the truth. About a week later I got a call at three am from my sister. I did not answer the phone, but she left a drunken message saying she hoped that I would die. I ignored it, but hoped the hope that all xjws have that maybe some day she might just wake up and we could be brother and sister again.
Missy continued on with a very dysfunctional life. She had several DUIs and numerous suicide attempts. She was committed to an institution for a while, and yet all through this what help did she get from the organization? Nothing but condemnation. About a year ago she attempted suicide again and the elders decided they had had enough. They disfellowshipped her yet again cutting her off from every resource she had ever known. She was now on disability and found government housing five hours from my mother which I believe was a good thing. My understanding is that she got into AA according to my non jw Aunt that my mother talked to from time to time and was said to be doing great. My mother went on to tell my Aunt that old Missy was back and she had apologized to her for all the mean things she said to her. Missy had applied for reinstatement and would be back soon. I got this report about ten days ago after not hearing anything for five years.
I thought to myself this is the last thing Melissa needs if she is rebuilding her self esteem. Well Missy met with the elders and asked to be reinstated. Now if you understand how this works it is not that simple. You can only be reinstated from the original elders that DF d you. The congregation you are in can make a recommendation, but gets final approval only from the original DF committee. So the local elders met with her, it gave her hope as they did not immediately say they would not consider it. When this happens it means they are contacting the original committee and recommending your reinstatement. So she was so excited to tell my mother she was going to be recommended. Well the final word came on Sunday. The original committee turned her down. That night my sister took her life. They found her twelve hours later and it was too late. In my mind I feel the elders murdered my poor broken sister. They keep the congregation clean from the damaged people they create by throwing them in the trash.
I was in shock when my non JW Aunt called last night to give me the news. Typically your cowardly JW family never has the guts to share the destruction they caused. As the day has progressed I found an overwhelming sense of grief and loss and I started to ask myself why? I had not seen Missy for several years and why do I feel so lost and alone?
You see for the average person, even with a family member you do not like that well, they still talk to each other. If they get sick, family shows up to take care of needs, and if they die, a celebration of life is had to say goodbye with the rest of the family. This is what normal people do. Yet for a xjw you are cut off through shunning, you never get to assist in the crisis and if a death results, it is the greatest loss of all. The little ember of hope, at one day being family again, is extinguished forever. It is devastating, debilitating, and the most excruciating type of grief and loss a person can have.
Melissa Rynn Bowen; I missed you and now you are lost me forever. I will never forget your laugh and creative way you expressed yourself through life. You had so much life in you. I can’t change what has happened and even when I tried, you pushed me away. I am not angry with you, because I know your pain and understand why you tried to cope the way you did. I so wish I could hold you and take that pain away, but I know now that will never happen. I can only hope you are at peace and finally free of the despair and not feeling worthy. You were always worthy and I so wanted to save you and protect you from the forces that surrounded you, but as with so many cases like this, the situation would never allow it to happen.
I never stopped loving you and hoping we could just be friends again. The love will continue but the hope is forever lost. A loss I will bear for the rest of my life.
July 10, 2020
Today I put my sister and fathers ashes together with the burial plot of my fathers mother who died when he was eight years old. It is a final note to two lives lost to jworg. The quote at the bottom says “They lived for an end that never came, now finally at peace”. So I guess I get to have the last word. It is a hollow victory of sorts as they got to choose to cut off me and my children from being part of their lives. It is really about loss, loss of family, loss of love, loss of friendship, loss of security, loss of stability, loss of freedom, loss of feeling safe, loss of feelin secure, loss of happiness, loss of kindness, loss of peace, loss of family. It forever changed my life and forever changed theirs. My dad died in five minutes of heart failure getting ready for Sunday meeting, my sister died of suicide after being rejected for reinstatement and me? I get to have the last word...
