Mental Health

So some people started popping up when all this shit started going down, and all of them seemed to be somehow employed in or engaged with the mental health industry. When this happened, those people made up three out of the three clients I had seen so far that week. The odds of this being slim, of course I’m quick to assume their jobs were made up for the sake of imparting the message, “Take care of your mental health now.”

So how am I doing, having just about cracked this case?

Well, it took about a month, start to finish, for me to come to my present conclusions. I’m sure that seems slow to y’all but I have the unfortunate tendency of believing what people say and I honestly could not fathom some of these things being real. I never imagined Brian would do something like this to me. Honestly, the details are so far out there that in my shoes, it probably would have taken you a while too.

But the extended revelation process was beneficial, in a weird way. Normally, we’d be humiliated to know that we continued to sleep with a person who was fucking everything that moved, that the wool had been pulled over our eyes while Judas had his way with our naked flesh. I was so addicted to Brian though that this period served as sort of a preperatory period, where my mind could try on the ideas without suffering their severity, and where I could be soothed by the same source of oxytocin that I was used to as it did. Ultimately, I’m glad for this buffer, cuz it’s unlikely I would be taking it as well without it.

I’m hurt. I don’t think devastated would be an overstatement at all. It makes me absolutely sick to my stomach to think about these other women in my bed. I hate how he must have demonized me to justify it to others and to himself when I was a goddamned saint to him until he taught me not to be. And even then, listening to these recordings that he made, Jesus. I am literally love and peace and light until seriously provoked, exactly as I believed myself to be. Gentle and soft spoken and accomodating, gracious, quite good at diverting conflict and staying my tongue. I didn’t deserve the fucking outbursts or the accusations and I most certainly did not deserve this.

It’s suggested that he was bored sexually. As though there’s anything I could have done about that. We never had sex less than three times a week, and I’m a goddamned sex worker, dawg. Orgasms are what I do, and I do them well. I can get him off with my hand in 10 minutes, my mouth in 5, and my vagina in under 2. He wrote a post a while back on his Facebook or something, I don’t remember where I saw it exactly, about the body shaking climaxes I induced. I know you’re thinking, “Well, that much sex conceivably could get boring,” but nope. No way. When something feels that fucking good, all you wanna do is do it again and again and again. If he was bored with our sex life, it’s because he made the active decision to devalue it based on some pre-existing notions of what exciting should mean.

In fact, when I mention the names of these other women, without exception his upper lip curls in disgust and he says that the thought of fucking them makes him sick. Now, I get that he’s a patholigical liar but he’d need two or three of them together to equal 15 minutes with me. Bitches tag teamed his dick and then he begged me to let him come home.

Brian is insecure. That’s why he cheated on me. Sure, there was the excitement of potentially getting caught, the allure of novelty, and there’s a sick sort of pleasure to be had from covert emotional sadism, I used to be a fan of it myself. But at the root of it all was insecurity, plain and simple. He wasn’t confident enough in himself or our relationship to handle what I do for work, and then of course, recording me would have alerted him to some conversation topics he need not have heard, adding to his fear. It’s not normal to record someone, Brian, and we all say shit we don’t entirely mean while we work through frustrations. If omniscience were adaptive, we’d have evolved the capacity for it by now.

So he cushioned himself from the percieved inevitability of a betrayal by preemptively betraying me. That’s the dating profiles. Then fucking around behind my back, once the opportunity arose, would have given him a sense of power, like he was superior because he was able to pull one over on me. In his position of disempowerment, having no job and nothing else of his own, this would have been attractive. His confidence, likewise, was boosted by the moans of multiple others, and when added to the stream of income he earned from the videos, he was able, for the first time in years, to experience a sense of independence. Of course, this made him increasingly sociopathic and violent toward me, but that’s another conversation.

He probably developed crushes on the girls who made him feel so good about himself, but that says nothing of them. They’re all fucking worthless and he’ll tell you the same thing himself. His feelings had nothing to do with them and everything to do with his ego.

He probably took me for granted and as I said of our sex life, devalued me to varying degrees at various points. To be expected, and I prophecied this exact thing a long time ago. “I will become associated with the life you want to leave behind and instead of appreciating me, you will hate me.”

In the end, he begged like a bitch. “Please don’t go. I’ll do anything.” Now whether this because he’s terrified of homelessness or because he’s capable of experiencing real emotions after all, I dont know. Doesn’t matter either. He begged me not to go and all he begged of the other hoes was not to tell me. I’m the King after all.

(This is why I insisted on knowing the truth about what happened. It DOES matter. When I can understand it and put it into it’s proper context, it not only adds to my knowledge of the world, but it soothes me. The more I know, the better I am able to bounce back. Tell me all of it.)

But we’ve gone off course a little, I’ll dissect Brian later. I’m devastated, but I’m not humiliated. I’m shocked and disgusted and completely dumbfounded, cuz like, what the hell? Why does everything in my life have to be so goddamned extra? But I’m gonna be fucking fine. I can breathe for the first time in a long time and I am happy to be free.

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