At first I was so deliriously happy. It literally felt like a load came off my shoulders. It was refreshing to shed the guilt of never doing enough.
But then the anger set in. Anger at having wasted the best years of my life slaving for old men in New York.
Now I've come to grips with what was. I am the person today, no doubt, because of my Jw experience. I don't hold any grudge against the regular bro and sisters and really feel for them. The anger that remains is for the "popes" that sit in their ivory tower and dictate how peoples lives should be lived. I hate them for that