Derek sits down for a solo chat with Mitch (@exjdub) an elder’s kid who spent decades performing inside Jehovah’s Witnesses to talk about abuse, denial, power, and the long work of becoming real. For the first time publicly, Mitch shares the abuse he endured, the moment his abuser said “I don’t remember it never happened,” the night he numbed out with a bottle of rum, and why therapy finally helped him name the patterns: chasing control, emotional entanglements, ghosting with the “high of the hunt.”

We also get candid about ego and authority in the org (wanting the mic, telling a coordinator “I want to be COBE”), race and belonging across Chicago/Houston → rural Georgia/Atlanta, being an elder’s child, self-reporting/shame cycles, and the ever-moving “generations” goalpost. Mitch shares the grief of losing his sister, choosing not to destabilize his aging parents’ faith, fading on his own terms in Dec 2024 after years of being PIMO, and why accountability not shame changed him.

In the back half, Mitch and Derek sit with uncertainty: afterlife, agnostic hope, and Jung’s individuation—the hard work of stripping off programming to find the authentic self. “Sometimes it’s a step forward, two back…but we keep moving.”

Find Mitch: @exjdub everywhere 

Raw, unpolished, and hopeful—an episode about breaking silence, naming power, and choosing real life.

Disclaimer:

Our aim is to foster honest, empathetic conversations about high-control environments, belief systems, and personal journeys including the long road of healing, questioning, and reclaiming identity.

Please be advised that some episodes may contain content that touches on religious trauma, coercive control, emotional or physical abuse, or other potentially triggering topics. We strive to approach these conversations with care, but we acknowledge that certain themes may be difficult to hear.

Listener discretion is advised.

If you or someone you know is experiencing distress related to these topics, we encourage seeking support from qualified mental health professionals, spiritual trauma-informed therapists, or trusted recovery communities.

You are not alone.