Author–poet Micah Allen Losh (Mentally Diseased, The Apostasy Trilogy) joins Derek for an unflinching look at life inside a doomsday faith and the long road out.

Micah reads a poem written during 77 days in jail his first sober stretch in years and traces the journey from a childhood of constant Armageddon fear and being labeled “blood guilty” to the moment he could say: “That person no longer exists.” He shares how his father died loyal to the blood doctrine, how he dissociated at seven giving a Bible reading, and how he was baptized four months after the funeral hoping to get his dad back.

When compassion was needed, cruelty answered: an elder dismissed his suicide plan, another spread a false threat rumor, his mother evicted him, and elders told him to “move into a shelter.” A marriage kept secret from in-laws collapsed into binge drinking during a pandemic he feared was Armageddon and even glancing at “apostate” material felt dangerous after years of being told not to trust his own mind.

Under a bridge, a line from The Office snapped him awake “The fallacy is that the steamroller decides whether the object is destroyed.” Micah chose to live for his son and publish a book. When an agent vanished, he went DIY: ten self-edits, a lawyer review, an indie editor, and a cover by ex-JW artist Sarah Riches—half boy, half man. He released it on his 40th birthday to reclaim it. A friend’s message stopped a planned suicide; soon after, readers wrote to say his book helped them stop drinking.

Micah’s art became a trail of breadcrumbs back to himself his first poem tattooed in his own handwriting, early pieces once rejected by his mother now guiding his rebirth. He purged every symbol of the past, rebuilt his values from zero, and learned that authenticity attracts the right people and repels the wrong. These days, he savors small joys a Halloween movie with his son, a post-book cigar and lives by the belief that strength is kindness.

He’s found his tribe, even if it’s a small one and people who connect through shared art, music, and story. One decision to stop self-destructing created a chain of unexpected good: reconnections, creative freedom, and a new sense of peace.

Since Mentally Diseased: poetry collection Gangrenous Speeches, a horror allegory, a 99¢ e-book on deconstruction, a children’s book (The Boy Who Loved a Monster), a Witness Underground producer credit, and new fiction including Malachites, a satire built on logical fallacies. He calls high-control life the square-watermelon box growth forced to fit. Leaving that box led to sobriety on his own terms—nearly five years as of Sept 2—and a life built on chosen values and a community of ex-believers determined to be better.