I seem (and from what I've seen on threads) find it easier to just think and talk about the logistics of fading or leaving the organization. The one foot in front of the other every day avoidance of witnesses, deciding not to attend, not returning phone calls and texts. Thinking and talking about one thing that made us snap and not go back. Rediculous elders, rules, fake friends, injustices and atrocities congregation members committed, hell even decisions & mandates made by the GB. That all is a GREAT deal of crap and legit to discuss for hours upon hours.
There is one aspect less commonly addressed.
There is something I find way harder to talk or think about though....
Most of us used to share something in common. Most of us (although it seems silly now) used to belive we would live forever, our every need would be met, every wrong righted, every freakin tear wiped from our eyes. We would be reunited with our deceased loved ones again, alive, as humans just the way they once were. We belived that god himself was listening when no one else was and cared and would fix everything.
We suspended facing our own mortality and grieving our losses. In the process of leaving the witnesses we are confronted with those ugly truths all at once and that can be pretty freaking difficult (lying awake at night ripping apart inside at the realization that oh yes, you will die. All the people you loved that died, that was it. You'll never see them again. And no, no one is listening. You're alone.)
The answer I think for me to the question posed in this thread is a little more involved unfortunately.
So yeah, the big screen moment where you just said "F***you!" to the elders and peeled out of the KH parking lot, tires kicking up rocks and a big clould of dust, never to return again is one thing...the collateral damage of learning your most deeply cherished hopes were a big perverse farse and a carrot dangled on a stick is another.