Is it worth living out being a massive humiliating slave to the state system?.. and you don’t hardly even get to see your kids as their mother trains them to hate you. Everyday is a barrage of insults in the media to you as a single father. Your rights and freedoms are threatened everyday by femiNazis. No wonder suicide is so common and doesn’t seem so bad after all.
I think all dads who end up divorced contemplate suicide. Think about it.
We are groomed from a very early age and conditioned to think like our identity is our utility, our ability to provide and care for the family. We no longer have male spaces to share intergenerational male knowledge and experience, as all such spaces have either been invaded by rabid feminists or shut down by rabid feminists. If you want to spend time with your male friends, you are shamed for it as either being gay or pathetic.
Every aspect of life in the west is infected by the collectivist feminist mentality and, unlike the women who feign that they’re programmed to behave a specific way, men actually are. Our “worst” (least desirable and immedaitely productive) behaviors are drugged out. We are treated like defective girls at every stage of compulsory education. We are discriminated against in every aspect of western life from college to employment because male privilege.
But you tough it out anyway. You get some semblance of a degree and have a job where you feel like you’re being productive and doing something. You have that aspect locked down and you get what you are told is a good woman. You start a family. You now have the identity you were groomed from elementary school to pursue.
And then the bitch cheats on you. They hammered into your head that women don’t and can’t cheat. But she did. She broke the rules but you’re not allowed to say that. And not only that, she was empowered and allowed to do that, and everyone blames you, the victim, for it. They form a tribunal to pillage everything about your life. Through your conditioned helplessness, you probably barely fight back. You’re reeling from your life being destroyed and hurting too badly to really get a grip on what’s happening in court, and it all happens fast.
Suddenly that little corner that you’d managed to hobble together, despite everything working against you, has been raided and reduced to cinders. You have nothing left. Whatever meager pleasures you’d put together you either lost in court or had to sell to cover expenses because f~~~ it if you, a man, are going to get any financial assistance.
Why wouldn’t a man contemplate suicide?
But remember, we’re men and we play the long game. Men can rebuild their lives in the face of adversity. I lost a lot in my divorce and I got saddled with crippling debt. It was initially humiliating that I had to rent a spare room from my parents’ house because the child support, insurance, and child care that I was legally obligated to pay, on top of the debt I got, meant I couldn’t afford an apartment anywhere near my job. I retreated inside myself for awhile and studied biology and history to try and make sense of everything. I felt less miserable about my temporary living arrangements when I noticed that this concept of “moving out” is unique to the US its ideas of western expansion. In most of the rest of the world, several generations lived under a single roof, and the extended family provided both a support structure to young parents and something to do for bored grandparents. And I can always make more money. I have security clearance and a valuable skill set (no I’m not a hitman).
Time is your ally. A man can do what a woman cannot–you can rebuild. In fifteen years, when you can actually have an honest conversation with your kids and they can see the terrible human being your ex-wife is, the tables will turn.
I contemplated suicide. At first, it was consuming. I made such plans in my mind. What pulled me out of it was the thought of leaving my kid alone with that woman. I can’t legally prove what a terrible waste of a human she is, but if my kid grows up around her, he’ll see it, and I don’t have to do a damn thing. My revenge will be her seeing her own kid grow to hate her, by her own hand. My revenge will be my kid having direct access to the wealth and potential I’m going to build. My revenge will be my kid seeing the difference in the quality of life between mommy, who shacked up with a deli clerk to poop out more kids, and daddy, who refocused on his career and did what he wanted.
My revenge will be softly red-pilling my kid against the cancer that poisoned my brain so that he won’t make the same mistakes I did.
This is so true. Every word.
