Illusion Of Sanity

I said earlier that I would start telling some of my stories. Stories of the women who have brought me low, and who helped me fully swallow the Red Pill. I always had natural game, just because I have always had lots of confidence. Which means that I never had trouble getting the girl. But once I had her, I was very succeptible to ONEitis. I would let her Beta my ass in the relationship. Egh. That is not the case in this first story, but you will notice it in the next two. So, without further ado…..

When I was a young lad, my whole life ahead of me, I didn’t care anything about a LTR. I didn’t want a woman around all the time, I loved life, partied hard, and was just getting started in my career. Things were good. I was playing the field, new women all the time. Ah, the carefree days of youth.

The unthinkable happened. A friend drove me home from bar hopping, and waiting on my porch was one of the women I had been screwing around with. 16 yrs old (that’s legal where I’m from, blow me), blonde, hot. About an 8, 8.5. I’ve been drinking since 8 am. She’s wearing a miniskirt and a tank top, and I know what she’s here for. My pal drops me off, and I grab her and to the bedroom we go. Oh, you young drunk fool….

No protection. I was drunk, out of condoms, and so the story goes. She got pregnant.

I’m a good Southern boy. You can guess what I did. That’s right, my dumb ass married her. I figured, why not? She’s young and hot, I have a good job, I want to be a good father to my son. This was a mistake.

Once the ink was dry on the marriage liscense, things started going downhill fast. I begin to notice that she’s doing less and less work around the house. I come home from working all day to find a sink full of dishes and my sons toys strewn around the living room. She never cooks, unless is out of a can, frozen, or hamburger helper. You can imagine my marital bliss, I am certain.

Things go from bad to worse. I’m working my ass off, then coming home and having to dishes so I can cook myself something for supper. Yes, I gave her hell. I tried being motivational, then I tried being a downright dick to her. Nothing worked.

She started gaining weight. I don’t mean a little weight. I mean going up a size in clothes every month or two. I tried to get her to diet. She started eating candy bars and junk food while I was at work and trying to hide it from me. I found candy wrappers stuffed into her pillow case.

I tried getting her to exercise with me. This lasted about 2 days. She just keeps getting bigger. What am I to do? I’m out of options. I’m not attracted to her and can’t imagine actually sleeping with her anymore. So, I pulled the Fade Away. I found a job in another state, 600 miles away. I told her that I was going to be living in hotels and stuff for a while till I got settled, and once I was settled in she and our son could come live with me.

I never got settled. I spent a year living in extended stay hotels, playing the field, and enjoying my life again. I called less and less, and only wanted to talk to my son when I called. She cried, she was depressed, she missed me, blah blah blah. Finally I only called to talk to my son when he was with my mother.

She finally got the point and found a new boyfriend who would accept her fat lazy ass. She still doesn’t work, she now has a new bastard child by a different man. She lives with her parents. Every time I see her, I am thrilled that I got away from the toxic bitch. I support my son financially in every way. He has been in private school since he turned 3. My mother keeps him almost all the time. His mother keeps him 2 nights a week. I write all the checks to my mother. My ex never sees a dime from me.

So, I escaped. Phew, that was close. I’ve been away from her for about 4 years now. So, you would imagine that I learned my lesson, right? For the most part, yes. But I still made mistakes. I will go into that in Ghosts of Bitches Past: Part II.

That’s the story of my first dose of the Red Pill. Don’t get married. Make her earn the privelege of being with you every day. Once she has that ring on her finger, she no longer has anything to prove. Don’t do it, friends.

-Dr. Illusion