Journaling on a Friday night in mid-August (on my friend’s mortality, plus an update)

So it’s been 8.5 weeks since committing to stop drinking. That’s really good, and I’m proud of myself on this. Demonstrating my will power to choose to do better, for all those out there who, for whatever reasons, like to downplay the significance of will power. Can’t claim to comprehend what those folks are talking about there, seeing as how we’re always presented with options and even people with a whole lot working against them that one might imagine would never succeed have proven they could rise on the right occasion. When they made up their mind to do so and backed it with determined effort. I take inspiration from such people.

Yesterday happened to be my mother’s birthday. Decided to send her a text today, to which she replied saying she’d received flowers from the man she’s dating now. We haven’t interacted via text in several months prior to this exchange, per our norm. Yesterday also marked the day I decided to give up smoking herb for a solid couple of weeks. Hadn’t been partaking in it much since quitting drinking, but I still worry about replacing one crutch for another. So I simply decided to take a hiatus from that as well. Will be good for me. Might bore me into going to bed earlier and actually working out more than twice a week.

Hadn’t been inside a bar in about 2 weeks until today (where I ordered iced tea, of course). There I ran into a female friend and her ex-husband (those two remain close friends), having not seem either of them in months and him specifically since long before his last heart attack back in May. Might’ve been before Christmas since he and I last spoke. So I asked questions and he shared what all he’s been going through with that, plus he filled me in on details about his last heart attack 12 years ago as well as his mini-stroke 11 years ago. Also, he had underwent having a pacemaker put in back in March, which is what likely saved his life during this latest heart attack. Though when he collapsed he managed to fall and hit his head hard, resulting in a concussion that caused periodic bouts of dizziness for a month or more. They say he might live another couple of years at the rate he’s going. He’s now 61 years old, thankful to have healthcare coverage, currently living off the remains of his 401k while waiting for acceptance on disability coverage, with plans to file for early retirement next year so as to collect social security benefits. He had always worked up until the events of this spring, but now he’s unable to fulfill the duties of his job.

He spoke of the medications they have him on and their side effects, the doctors visits and body scans, and the insomnia he’s now plagued with. But what really struck a chord with me was when he talked about their young grandson and how he’s spending as much time as he can with him and letting him know how much he loves him. Says he can’t take anything for granted anymore. I got pretty misty-eyed listening to that portion of his story.

Mortality. The hardest part seems to be knowing that your days are numbered. His father and grandfather both suffered heart attacks and died relatively young, so he’s not counting on outliving them by much. Not that I can blame him there. He has to reckon with this to the best of his ability based on the information he’s being confronted with.

He’s a good man. Very sweet and caring. A good provider and overseer for his family, despite the divorce. Told me that he’s always adored me as well, and the feeling is mutual. A part of me does love that man, just because he has a good spirit. He will be missed, but like he said, we shouldn’t mourn him when he’s gone, we should celebrate life and living.

Wish I could make it to his eclipse party later this month, but I’ll be busy working like always. Will think of him when that eclipse does darken the sky midday on August 21st, knowing how excited he is to experience it during his lifetime (said it’d been 99 years since the last one that was viewable from coast to coast). He does love to watch the heavens for activity. In fact, he and his ex-wife were the first ones to point out to me the space station moving past overhead a couple years ago. I’d probably have never noticed otherwise.

Does make me a little sad to see him still drinking despite his heart condition. He said he knows he probably should quit, but he’d also like to enjoy what time he has left and drinking is a big part of their lifestyles. I didn’t say much to any of that since it’s none of my business. Just worry for him is all, but I don’t need to state that out loud to him. It’s his life, and who knows what the future holds. Conventional wisdom doesn’t prove correct in every individual case, so sometimes you just gotta let the dice roll.

Their family has been through a great deal this year, from his failing health to their son’s apartment burning down due to an electrical fire, etc. She said their son is taking his father’s health problems pretty hard. I imagine. It’s a sad situation. But nothing can be done about it. Death is unavoidable.

Something else this man said that troubled me: he’s not worried about dying so much as who’s going to have to be the one to find his body. He’s worried for his family members being put through that trauma. Yeah, that’s heart-wrenching to deeply consider, knowing all of them and imagining how hard it would hit them inside. All I could do was just pat his leg on that since there aren’t words to comfort somebody wrestling with such thoughts. Then he broke into a bit of a joke about dying on his riding lawn mower. He’s a truly sweet-spirited person who thinks about everybody else first. Couldn’t change his nature if he tried.

We told one another to not be strangers, and I do hope to see him again sooner rather than later. Told my female friend goodbye and I left. That’s all the heaviness I could sit with in that hour.

I didn’t mean to walk away, but it felt like I needed to once all had been said that needed to be said for one day. I miss him a little bit already. Only met the man a couple years ago but he’s one of those sweet souls who leaves a positive mark whether he means to or not. We got along right off the bat, which is saying something since I’m not known for being compatible with just anybody and everybody. Told his ex-wife, my friend, that she can call me whenever she wants to talk and that I’ll be here for them. And I mean it. That family was really good to me when I met them by random chance a couple years back during a particularly bad depression spell. They befriended me and have remained kind toward me, even when I wound up pulling away over the last year so as to tend to my own matters. Now is a good time to reconnect and to find ways to help out as needed. I do need to make an effort at that, to not let it slide as if there’s always enough time. Time runs out. People grow old. Health declines. The only thing that really matters in this world are our people, however we might define that. Our relationships are what matter most. Everything else just winds up fading away without a second thought.

We just kept hugging each other. Communion in its truest form. He didn’t seem scared about all of this, but I know he’s afraid of leaving people who love and depend on him. But he’s likely still got time, maybe another year or two or more. Never know. But I know I need to step up as a friend and be around more instead of retreating to my home. And I’m going to. Been wanting to for a long while and now it feels very necessary.

What I really ought to do is make them dinner or snacks to take over sometimes. And we really ought to do game nights again like we used to. Those were always fun. Make a few more good memories while time permits.

Spoke to my former partner on the phone tonight and told him about all of that. He’s met them a handful of times in the past. Then I cooked spaghetti with a side of steamed green beans for dinner. Worked out earlier in the day with my gym trainer. Have an early morning tomorrow, so for the rest of the night I intend to relax.

The latest audiobook I completed (coincidentally) and really appreciated was Antidote: Happiness For People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking by Oliver Burkeman. A very worthwhile book. Currently re-listening to A Guide to the Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy by William B. Irvine.

Celebrating one mother’s life

That video really impacted me today. It’s from a new channel I just discovered this morning called Ghetto News Network, and it’s of the creator’s mom’s birthday celebration in light of discovering she has cancer. She really sounds like a nice lady, like she helped a lot of people. They look like a bonded family, and thank goodness for that. Can’t ask for much more than that in this life.

Makes me want to call my own Grandma.

We need these positive connections and lasting bonds in order to weather the storms. We need each other, undeniably. No human is capable of living as an island, and it’s amazing the transformative power of good people willing to help us, especially early in life. That’s a true blessing that we’re very lucky to have ever experienced. Strikes me as quite cruel when people are neglected and denied powerful connections and guidance, but the responsibility ultimately lies with us as people. Pain likes to pay forward, but so does charity and good will. It’s very easy to feel alienated in this day and age, to feel lost and unbound. These connections are what make life rich and meaningful, and it’s a real travesty for one to never know what that’s like. Very, very sad when that’s the case and guaranteed to create more problems.

I worry sometimes that the self-sacrificing people who’ve come before and touched our lives might be going extinct. That’s a powerfully disturbing thought, I know. I worry if their spirit might be fostered in future generations and carried forth or if it will wind up relinquished due to us not sufficiently recognizing its importance. That honestly scares me all the way down to the core, pondering what kind of world we’d be living in without their impact and support. My prayer for us today is to try to hold on to what matters most, to be careful about discarding old ways of being before thoroughly understanding their relevance and desirability. Because life can be very long and hard in the absence of a flame of compassion and loving service toward one another. And I stand as a hypocrite in saying that, acknowledging how I segregate off into my own little apartment and more often than not don’t reach out to offer help or consolation to others when I am able.

There are so many lessons to reckon with in this life. So many questions and dilemmas. But, hard as it is to say goodbye to those we love dearly, we truly are blessed to have ever known them, and hopefully we’ll learn from them and pick better paths ourselves. Hopefully.

My heart goes out to that family. May that man’s mother not suffer too much with her illness. This will be a very trying time for all of them, I don’t doubt it, but I appreciate them sharing a glimpse into their lives and what they’re contending with. There are no words to mollify the grief of losing a loving parent figure or reckoning with that inevitability. All we can do is keep them in our hearts and minds and try to do better ourselves. To try not to lose these lessons gleaned.

Hopefully over for the last time

He’s mad at me for everything. Blames me for damn-near everything, even that which is on him. And I’ve grown so goddamn tired of it all. Six years have gone by now, 5 years of which have been majorly problematic. Nowadays we have a good week or two, and then the gavel of judgment drops again. Always on time, though never easily predicted when exactly it will fall. And shit just stirs up again and again and again and again…

Want to call me a “shithead” for past discretions dating back 5 years ago. Okay. Yes, I am a shithead. Apparently. Worst of the worst. But if he feels so strongly against me, why did he ever contact me on Valentine’s Day unexpectedly and invite me over for pizza with a bouquet of roses and a box of fine chocolates waiting? (First time in nearly 3 years to buy me flowers.) Why keep putting me through these paces? Back at Christmas he gifted me far more than I expected then too. Why? If you are so angry at me and feel so much contempt and claim to want me gone when you’re angry and been drinking — why even do all that? Why keep doing this again and again?

Says because he does care. Says he loves me and always will. And yet…  Here we remain in this stupid, senseless limbo.

A bar-pal told me something tonight. Connected a piece in the puzzle. My former companion fairly recently had lied outright. Claimed something entirely else despite calling on me for help. For no good reason since the truth wouldn’t have pissed me off. But lied anyway. How he thought others wouldn’t inform me remains a mystery. But if I confront him with a lie, he will turn it back, as he always does, to what I have done wrong in the past. This remains the perpetual cycle. Never changes. Wish it would but it doesn’t. And on and on it goes…

Earlier tonight we told one another goodbye for the umpteenth time. Must make it stick this time. Tired of so much bullshit. He doesn’t trust me (for good reason) and I don’t trust him anymore either (for equally good reason). So many tears have been shed during our fiasco. Several years running now…

Lord, I am so tired. Been tired for a long time now. Please provide me enough grace to move on with my life. We are so rude and harsh toward one another at times. It is too cruel to keep accepting. If he invites me back once again, may I possess the strength to resist and decline. Because I will only be blamed for whatever outcome comes of it over time. He knows it and I know it. This is the modus operandi at this point. Has been for several years. Can’t keep doing this to ourselves any longer. Makes me hate myself. Causes me to second-guess every instinct I have, nearly all of which are trying to pull me in a different direction by now. Except for that lone gremlin who relates to him in terms of my childhood and upbringing (and presumably his as well), that tries to recreate a scenario that will never work, that will not listen to reason and just keeps plowing on as if it knows what is best. It does not. It is misguided. It is in pain and fractured and does not apparently comprehend the current state of living. It wishes to fix some age-old dilemma that cannot be repaired, close as he seems integrated into to that. I broke my trust with him years back. So there is nowhere to go from here but away.

Too many have listened to me lament on all of this over these years. Some of my closest friends have told me I am no longer my true self. That I have lost myself in this irreparable conundrum. They are correct. I have not been willing to listen to reasoning, or at least not willing to act on it properly. Been a long time coming.

He is not the devil. Nor am I. We are just not able to make any of this work. I wish him well though do not desire to stand by him as he seeks out his next love interest. Can’t and no longer will. Blames me for holding him back due to guilt  despite inviting me to be around regularly. Is maddening. He wants to be free yet doesn’t wish to be alone apparently. I can relate to that feeling. However, no, the line must be drawn somewhere. Should’ve been drawn long ago between us, as he and I both recognize. We’re torturing ourselves and one another to continue this sordid mess of a “relationship,” however it is to be defined. Not going well and hasn’t been for so long now.

He apparently lacks the strength in this area and willpower to make this cut definitive, despite his talk on the subject, so I must. We cannot go back to this bullshit. It must be laid to rest now. We will never be friends in the aftermath if we keep this up any longer. All will be destroyed. Too much resentment, too much water under the bridge.

I accept this and will do my part to keep us apart going forward. He claims he will as well. But I must. This is too much to keep bearing. No good for either one of us anymore. So peace be with us as we move on in our separate directions from here on out.

Pausing for Valentine’s Day…

Back in for the night and no longer in the mood to worry about the world’s problems. Not tonight. Needing to switch gears and show my softer side some attention.

Didn’t expect to have plans this evening. Just worked and came back home and prepared to lounge. Then my former texted to invite me over for pizza. Got ready and headed over and was surprised to see he’d bought me a bouquet of roses and a box of my favorite chocolates. And there I showed up with a bottle of Gatorade, a granola bar, and dark chocolate square — grabbing a few things I had around the kitchen, having not planned for us getting one another anything. That was really sweet of him. Watched the show The Big Bang Theory, then Family Guy and Robot Chicken, as we like to do. Was a nice, peaceful evening. No arguing. No grumbling.

One of the roses broke off its stem on the way home, so it’s now sitting on my desk in its own little mini vase. Very cute.

Kinda got me sentimental, ‘course I’ve been a little sentimental the last few days already. Not sure why exactly. Forever adjusting to what is…

Don’t really feel like writing much. Just gonna play a few songs I’ve long loved. Beginning with one that’s been on my mind since waking up this morning. Must’ve revisited me in a dream. “Captain of Her Heart” by Double:

A perennial favorite, Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb”:

Another long-time favorite, The Doobie Brothers’ “Long Train Runnin'”:

That may just be my all-time favorite from that band.

The Cure’s “Love Song”:

“I Can See For Miles” by The Who:

That’s enough for tonight. Need to finish unwinding and head to bed.

Pondering in late September on relationships and how they can go

For all those who like to claim that women mess with men’s heads unfairly, I just gotta say that it runs both directions. Gotta laugh it off since I’ve chosen to remain in this situation for years by my own accord, but still. This man know how to play with my head like a pro, and does so. Whether he fully realizes the consequences of that shit or not, he still makes a mark on me, over and over again, day after day, month after month, year after year. But I am no longer blaming anybody but myself anymore. It is obviously my choice to play ball. And I decide to continue to do so, regardless. And so fuck me.  LOL  What else can honestly be said there other than “good luck in the future”?  I get it. And I accept it. Not looking for anything else, so I am growing in contentment in handling our fiasco.

And such is life. Good luck in bending it to your will and preconceived expectations. ha

Life keeps on in teaching me a thing or two. And one thing I have sufficiently comprehended by now is how shit doesn’t run according to our expectations and isn’t on time. Sometimes we suffer for a reason. Sometimes we deserve to do so. Sometimes we hurt somebody we love enough to where that is the due penalty, like it or lump it. Walk if it means less to you. Learn to adapt if it means enough. Welcome to it. Such is the way life goes on this level of romance and commitment.

According to some I am the irredeemable “bad girl.” If you say so. I don’t believe that’s the case. My former apparently doesn’t believe that’s the case either or we wouldn’t continue on as we do after this many years. Even the desire to share meals is very strong for both of us. Even if our relations somehow remain platonic. This is what it is. I do not welcome unsolicited advice on the topic any longer. Heard it all and taken it into serious consideration over time. But I am forced back to accepting that the heart wants what it wants. That’s a fact that transcends rationality, however we care to feel about it.

And I am okay with that. Grown to be. If he does decide to date another woman, as he regularly threatens to do, I will have to accept that. Been preparing myself for many months to do so. He hates it when I date others too, despite his encouragement for me to do so each frickin’ time. But I have figured out the trap this is and am resolved in remaining either celibate or faithful to him until he finds a woman he is truly interested in and willing to date. Until that time I will continue to act as I do though. His strength will need to show through when necessary, and I will respect that, as I have told him a number of times now.

Am I an angel? NO.  LOL   And I pity the fool who assumes that about me. My former knows better by now. He is not in the dark, to say the least. He is a grown man who is capable of making and enforcing his own decisions. The decisions he chooses not to enforce are challenged, and he demonstrates his own duplicitous interests. Which is fine. We all are prone to do that. Nice that at least it’s more out in the open and discussed these days. Instead of simply blaming me for whatever transpires. I have since learned to have him work for what he wants so that it’s more apparent what our roles in our continued conundrum are. And that seems to actually be making things better. Maybe some folks need to be called onto the carpet and have their wants and expectations challenged a bit too.  <shrugs>  Living and learning…

May be heading north-bound a little sooner than expected

Starting to look forward to returning up north to my apartment and cat and relatively simple life. Not that I don’t love visiting my family, but there’s a limit. Apparently 5 weeks proves to be the max. That was the case in 2007 and is again this time around. Just a major adjustment to move in with someone when I’m used to living alone, not having much real privacy to speak of since she has a tendency to barge on in unannounced whenever. That being a trifling concern, yes. But I don’t know people around these parts anymore outside of a few family members — whatever friends I knew here long ago have since moved away or I have no clue how to reach them. Did pal around on a couple occasions with a new buddy an hour away and visited a cousin a couple times, but other than that there’s been no real interaction with anyone near my age this month. And that’s fine too. Hell, I’d have probably been pleased as punch to have just rented a tiny cabin somewhere and holed up all by myself since then maybe I would’ve gotten more reading done and actually painted some and actually decompressed as hoped.

But none of that’s important. Small gripes. The bigger issue is how it’s been dawning on me that the pretense I came down here under turns out to not be the real calling. There I was thinking I needed time off from work (which I did, having not vacationed since 2013) and out of that state (which has also been appreciated), away from certain people whom I was having problems with. But then there turns out to be something else to it. Like maybe I needed to be here during this “mirror phase” (as I refer to it as) to see my people and their dynamics for what they are, pedestals be gone. Yeah, we’re all humans, which is to say we’re all screwed up in whatever ways. But…there’s some part of me that’s been stuck here, unable to move on and let go. Feeling really guilty about living my own life 900 miles away, like I was abandoning responsibilities down here or something. Almost like I’m obligated to give up that life and return down here to help because I feel like I owe my life to my Grandparents, therefore it is not my own. And that’s false. That’s actually a very unhealthy mindset to be stuck in, though I see more clearly how it became embedded.

Not interested in casting anymore blame. There’s enough blame being tossed around here to keep these folks occupied for the rest of their lives. Just feeling the need to shed this skin, so to speak, in hope of living a more full life going forward. Not talking about cutting ties or attachments or any of that. I do love these family members, much as they may irritate me at times (and lord knows they irritate one another). But I just get to thinking how indebted I always feel, like I must prove something, share what resources come my way in order to make amends somehow. But that debt never seems to lessen, no matter what I’ve tried over the years. Continue reading

Taking a detour into Roosh V valley

Having read a bit more this past day from Roosh, I just feel the need to address some of what he’s put out there into the world.

Beginning with this article (2008) titled  “The Perfect Woman”: http://www.rooshv.com/the-perfect-woman

That goes a long way into comprehending his psychology. Note where he states the following:

I was 23-years-old when I met a beautiful girl. I have no idea how I got her but I did, and I didn’t have the “game” that I have now. She liked me for me, an eager guy out of college trying to relieve whatever inadequacy he thought he had.

She crushed me, but that was okay. But I did something that wasn’t okay. I overcompensated, to the extreme. I had to get even better at the game so not only could I find a girl like that again, but I could keep her as well. You see there was an end goal of a happy relationship somewhere along the line, but it didn’t work out like that. The game was the end itself. The perfect woman I thought I wanted slowly slipped away. She morphed into this monster of easy sex and unrealistic expectations.

 

Another relevant excerpt:

Part of me wishes I got swooped up by her. Maybe I would see women as more than just numbers and stories. Maybe I’d be in a happy relationship. Sure I’d be whipped and still working in some soulless job trying to pay a mortgage, but at least I’d have this woman who cared for me and loved me, and I would do the same to her. I think I was capable of that.

Instead I went down this rabbit hole… deeper and deeper… and darker. I see less than I used to. Too much experience, too used to easy attention and cheap thrills. You can’t undo your experiences, especially when there is just too many of them, their naked bodies, their smell on your fingers as you drive home racking up another score… your fantasies of their moans and kisses as you smile yourself to sleep. The way they laugh at jokes you’ve said a hundred times before.

It gets worse every year, the happy relationship with my “perfect” girl just gets farther as I become more incapable, as I become “better” at getting sex that has meaning but really doesn’t. I don’t even notice differences in girls anymore. But I can’t stop. I notice most other guys can. Am I… a validation junkie? An attention whore? Like the girls I criticize?

When that girl dumped me I cried. I went to her place to get my stuff, hoping I could keep it going. But it was done. I left and parked in a gas station and sat there and cried like a little baby. If that happened today, I wouldn’t even give a shit, and I think that’s my problem. I’m a machine with flesh, no empathy or love… another night, another performance.

She wasn’t perfect, not even close. But she was.

 

He got hurt and then went down a “rabbit hole” that he’s yet to come out of. He recognizes his life has become empty, meaningless, devoid of empathy for women as a result of him closing off, and yet…there he still stands, going through the motions and advocating just exactly that for other males to follow in suit. Misery does love company, and that’s no joke.

Look, I can relate on several levels. Some have read my stories on here in the past and know about how I met a nice guy, a decent man by most standards. Sure, he drinks too much and falls asleep with chew tobacco in his mouth routinely, but he’s not a man-whore and never was. I, however, came from a past of promiscuity and sex work and got to feeling damaged by all that plus my upbringing. And when I came into contact with this friendly, generous, loving individual (acknowledging his own drawbacks and limitations — we all have them, and he and I are extremely different on a bunch of levels that makes it very tricky to relate), I wound up fucking it all up and cheated on him. But I didn’t stop there. No, I went down a dark rabbit hole too that I am just in recent times finally emerging from, and that whole experience screwed me up worse than probably anything I’d been through before.

A difference in my and Roosh’s sagas is that here I’m discussing meeting someone after years of being involved in a lifestyle that turned out to not be conducive to switching gears and settling down, though through all this my former companion still remains involved in my life (he does claim to want to move on to other potentially compatible relationships, but, one could also argue, if he wanted that bad enough he’d be gone by now — ultimately his decision there — our goal is to figure out how to remain friends). Roosh’s went away and that became the catalyst for how his downward spiral first began, so he claimed in the post linked above.

In my own situation, I went from experiencing burnout with that lifestyle and trying to disengage with all that to then change course rather abruptly once I met someone, only to not know how to manage that new way of being and to control myself and my urges that I already had an extensive history of rationalizing and catering to. And my failings there led to totally becoming mired in guilt and shame in a way I never had before. Never done someone so wrong like that before. And the subsequent reaching for some form of atonement is painful as a motherfucker. Certainly not exaggerating there. I FUCKED UP. Period. And, frankly, I remain surprised that my former still sees any value in me to this day, which also keeps fueling the guilt and shame because I wound up losing faith in my own damned self on account of all of this. Because that’s not who I thought I was — wasn’t who ever I wanted to be. To figure out you’ve been sexually compulsive after nearly a decade of being far and away from anything remotely resembling monogamy, then thinking you could make the switch and failing due to the power of ingrained habits and a lack of self-control.

And this is how this shit can become seriously toxic. Look, I’m not knocking “pick-up artistry” (PUAs) in terms of building self-confidence and learning to accept rejection since that shit can’t help but be inevitable (for any of us, I might add, whether male or female — I’ve dealt with my fair share of rejection over time too). But when it comes to toying with people, lying to people, deceptive bullshit that not only messes with other people’s minds and emotions but also fucks with your own soul, you can easily wind up in seriously savage terrain. I am not trying to be an alarmist here for no good reason, folks — I am serious as a heart attack based on what my own personal experience has been teaching me. Because I knew “game” too (though I didn’t set out to study it), hence why PUA bullshit doesn’t worry me much when it comes to my own self since I’ve been seeing through that sort of thing for many years. Not a naive little girl anymore. I turned into one of the beasts myself (when I choose to flex that). I already know what I am capable of and how I could roll, at least in that sense. Not among the worst of the worst, but I held my own for the most part back in the day. Made good money at it (and should’ve paid off my college education when I had the chance — who knew the burnout was coming so soon?), improved my station in life, forged lasting connections, etc. Lucky for others I wasn’t into ripping men off for money under false pretenses (see, the sex industry ethics do at least provide some benefit to society in that regard) and I was STD-tested frequently and used to be very wary about engaging in sex unprotected (most especially professionally). Plus I never had interest in having children (refuse to do so) and religiously took birth control pills for over a decade. So…some risks were mitigated.

BUT, I still managed to fuck with people’s emotions at times, whether I meant to or set out to do so or not. This I cannot pretend isn’t true. And I fucked my own emotions and got to where I couldn’t clearly recognize a good thing when it came across my path and offered me devotion and accepted my past (naive as that might’ve been on his part without knowing me better first). See, I do get this shit, and it messes with my head every single day for the last 3-4 years since it began really and truly dawning on me. Since I broke a heart that in no way deserved to be broken. Since I lied and then confessed and then spiraled down furthermore. This feeling inside reminds me constantly with random flashbacks of what I’ve done, what I wish now I hadn’t done. Randomness, meaninglessness, severe detachment. Selfishness to a fault. Self-destructiveness…

And you know what it’s cost me? Besides a failed relationship with somebody I respect, it’s cost me sanctity of mind because memories flood me and guilt me every fucking day and night. Still don’t regret escorting in the past since I was single back then and free, but I do keenly realize now how much of that in conjunction with my off-hours lifestyle throughout my 20s contributed to turning me into someone I sometimes barely recognize anymore. You want to talk about cynicism? You want to talk about cold, seemingly rational detachment and just pursuing what you’ve grown used to? I know all about that. More than I’d like to know. And more than I’d prefer anyone else to know for their own selves. I don’t want people to follow in my footsteps, because the lessons gleaned here really can break a person, so I’m finding out. Can shatter an individual’s spirit. And that is not hyperbole. I am stating this publicly because I have very little left to lose or hide and feel the need to speak my own truth to the universe.

Could I encourage other women to take precautions as I did and to play up to men as I did and make money off doing so? Probably. Had a good reputation in the Industry and figured out a thing or two in my personal exploration. Didn’t travel to other countries to whore around, but I didn’t need to for reality to set in and end up messing me up.

And maybe that’s the difference I sense between myself and Roosh V. He ceased caring — willed himself to stop caring. I cannot. Mine folded back in on me and eventually trapped me in a prison of its own making. Caused me to get stuck in my own mind and circular reasoning, going over the details again and again and again, wondering why I did what I did. How could I be so foolish? How could I be so cruel? Why would I fuck up my own soul through my own doings?? As if life isn’t hard enough on its own. How could I hurt someone like that who didn’t deserve it? ME!? Why?? And this is where I live, day after day, year after year, trying to find a way out.

Being completely fucking honest here tonight, folks. No holds barred. Am not pretending to be some sweetheart, reformed or otherwise, nor do I believer I ever presented myself to the public as such. Nor does Roosh. But he seems to revel in his diabolical dilemma, undoubtedly knowing that not all the women he’s playing with are “whores” and “sluts” deserving of this sort of treatment just because they happened to cross his path. Knowing that he’s helping wreck these women for whatever future mates they try to find love with. Undoubtedly knowing he’s not helping his own future prospects either if ever he wants more out of life than this. And where’s his conscience? Subdued by drugs and alcohol?

I understand alcohol too and won’t pretend I don’t. Got a hold on me over time and still has a hold on me. Even now as I’m basically putting myself in some sort of self-imposed “rehab” by visiting down South with family for a couple months, having abandoned my job and likely to return home broke. And yet I still am not where I need to be. I get how it can go. But people don’t like to warn one another other about the potential downside to these lifestyle choices, not in an honest and informed way. So maybe that’s what I need to be talking about right now to less experienced others.

Cultivating self-will and self-control is a HELL of a conundrum to go up against! Gotta keep plugging at it. Won’t pretend I’m winning at it yet. Not proud of myself. BUT, through all of this I have finally cultivated the ability to leave sex alone, outside of dealing with my former companion. Done a great job there for around 2 years now, much as that might not mean anything or prove impressive to most onlookers. Won’t claim to have been perfect there either, compulsive as I had grown to be, but definitely making significant progress. And probably the deeply internalized guilt was needed to make that shit happen, or at least kick it into gear.  So I am grateful for that at least. It’s progress in my book for someone like me. Roosh has spoken of knowing he probably oughta go that way himself, but he won’t, because he will not let his heart be open enough to possibly break it so that that transformation might become required inside himself. Instead he retreats down in that rabbit hole, despite admitting to seeing it for what it is.

This is not just about judging that man. I know some of you out there might think I’m a bitch always looking to give a man grief, but that really isn’t usually the case. All of you are a mirror to me at this point, which can’t be helped. Can’t stop it unless I willfully regress even further. And that is, in a nutshell, exactly Roosh’s tactic. That’s how he avoids coming to terms with this shit directly and the call it brings to make changes. And changes do not typically come quickly, not if they’re to be lasting. It’s all a process. And it does involve struggling and suffering and admitting defeat on some levels. I do not see any way around that.

In another article (2009), titled “The Dark Side of Game”: http://www.rooshv.com/the-dark-side

Roosh V stated the following:

Sleeping with a ton of women has some mental consequences that aren’t ususally talked about. Here are four things that I have noticed:

Inability to view women as equal human beings. My default opinion of any girl I meet is “worthless dirty whore until proven otherwise.” When so many girls have opened their legs up for me so quickly and easily, it’s hard for me to respect them (and their opinions or ideas) like I would a family member or close friend. I think this is leaking out into other areas of life as someone pointed out to me that I seem to read books written only by men.

Decreasing ability to sympathize and empathize with the female condition. Because I learned early on that talking to a girl about her problems or issues is the fastest way out of her pants, it’s become habit for me to simply nod or say “That sucks” when a girl has a genuine problem, even one that I can help solve. I have no desire to help a girl out with her life, and I don’t care if she falls flat on her face.

Decreasing patience to work things out. I don’t give a girl more than one chance to act “right” because it’s so easy to find a new whore at the bar. My ability to stay in a long-term relationship, putting up with its natural ups and downs, is evaporating as I adopt the mentality of a dictator, with my bitch the subservient who must attend to my needs without making any mistakes. Over the years my temper has greatly shortened.

Decreasing view of sex as a beautiful act of love. Sex is a mechanical means for me to relieve the pressure building up in my sack and nothing more, one small step above jerking off with my tight-gripped hand. I do not feel any closer to a girl when I pump her, and most of the time I respect her less because my opinion of her as a worthless dirty whore who probably likes being choked was proven correct.

The only way I see to reverse these consequences is to step out of the game completely and go through a massive cold streak that makes me value a woman again, to see her as something important that I need. Since I don’t see this happening, the odds that I will meet a new girl who I genuinely care for and maybe even love will be about the same as me winning the grand prize of a scratch ticket lottery game. And I’m fine with that. For now.

That was his whole article copied and pasted in full. And in there is where I found the link to his “The Perfect Woman” article.

You want to try to tell me that’s a healthy way to view and approach 50% of the world’s population? You want to tell me that that attitude is in any way conducive toward finding a loving partner and engaging in a happier life together? Toward promoting love? Or at least some semblance of peace? Or avoiding unnecessary drama of your own creation? Does anyone think happiness can spring from that shit? Or even relative contentment? How about a meaningful existence? Because that’s what I want and it’s that precisely that’s been eluding me for so long. In a full-blown existential crisis over here and won’t pretend otherwise. Why lie? I already know where that shit leads, and I personally would like to head somewhere else now. Can you understand that? Can you understand that that shit isn’t sustainable over the long haul? That it winds up doing more harm than good, to oneself and to others?

I pray some of you out there can understand that.