I’m a regular guy. I’m a middle-aged, recently retired white working guy in a stolen white country, like so many white folks in places outside of Europe. I got most of a basic public education, worked, married, had a couple of kids . . . and then lost my mind. You know the story . . . I became disillusioned, started spending a lot of time online, withdrew from social things. I became dependent on drugs, to the exclusion of all else. When my family tried to intervene, I chose the drugs and abandoned them.
I was abused as a child, so although it’s disappointing, it’s no surprise.
It was only a matter of time. It’s a good thing we parted ways when we did, because when a man unravels, bad things happen. I was going to put them all on the six o’clock news, and frankly, while the intensity of the original split has lessened, on some vector time and frustration only increase the pressure for guys like me to do something decisive and violent. It seems likely as not that when women push an escalating man away, it’s only a deferment, and some awful timer has been started.
True to form, I won’t get help, either. No-one thinks they are big and powerful and dangerous, or rather, the men that do feel in charge are even worse than guys like me, guys that don’t think they are. Of course, I think I’m the victim. Of course I think it’s everybody else that’s wrong, and if you think that, no-one can help you. Clearly, I do not want to be helped. So now my family is down a salary and dealing with the damage, while I’m online still, spreading my toxic message with the rest of the crazy boys, talking game theory. God knows the world needs more of guys like me, right?
This is me, apparently, the me that world can see, the me that the world will acknowledge, this is the me I must be if I wish to be seen.
Jeff,
Oct. 28th., 2018
Abuse with an Excuse 
Dear Jeff,
You are absolutely needed, and more like you, on this earth! I know you are down on yourself and the world, but I feel very fond of you and your intransigent honesty as well. Please recognize that if there were less of you and men like you in the world we would not only be a much poorer plAce for it but immeasurably more threatened.
You know, never having had a serious relationship, let alone a marriage and kids, I cannot really imagine the magnitude of your loss. But I don’t want you to think I minimize it. It has obviously thrown you for much more than a loop. I just want you to know that I for one am here and listening, i think it is courageous of you NOT to accept help. Whatever they did for you, they would likely destroy your massive integrity by making you into more like the rest.
But I do know despair and I hear it sometimes and more and more in your writing voice. It is okay to be angry at things, the world is coming apart at the seams, it seems, worse every day! But without people like you with the courage to be honest and speak the truth, we would be — well, NOwhere!
Know that you are deeply admired and cared about.
Love, from Vermont, I remain
Your friend,
Phoebe
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and I know this is not me. I’m starting to wonder if that means anything, is all. I tell my story, this is who people think I am. Except you and a very few others. Thanks you.
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Who you ARE you know, it is the core of goodness in you…and it is stable despite life’s vicissitudes and changes. I hear this core coming through all your writing. Anger is just an accretion of life, enbarnacling everything, but it is NOT who you really are, or any of us. I believe this.
Love
Phoebe
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then you know no-one could have devised a more perfect Hell for me, that the ones I loved and protected think this is me and that they have painted me this way, you’ll know how hard it is for me to go outside with this version of me out there. You’ll know that there is no-one on Earth who would suffer as much from this portrait as me. Thanks for seeing me, Phoebe.
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I hate to tell you . . . surely you could teach me about time distortion or something, but it’s been 3 1/2 years since the trouble began and 2 years since I moved out, and it feels so long, more like 35 and 20 years, that’s how my heart is aging.
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I gotta tell someone . . .for the first year or two, I argued and begged, don’t do this to me, but now, it seems so long, so much water under the bridge of my broken heart and head, now to even mention it to them is just a guilt trip, the damage has already been done. Truth to tell I may have still been begging well into that period . . . I don’t imagine I’m alone in this meme, it seems like something every jilted person probably goes through, but now I think to talk to them is to rub their nose in it, can’t help anything . . .
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I dunno jeff, time does not always heal things, and I know about the feeling of time dilation when everything feels like it is falling apart. But the real you, people see it. No maybe not your ex and kids or they are protecting themselves from seeing and knowing who you really are, and I have no idea why. But I am certain the real you is kind and compassionate and clearly peace loving, that this in a sense this matters to you almost more than anything. unlike me, I do not hear revenge fantasies spewing from you, no you cry out about being misunderstood but never do you vocalise à wish to make them suffer as you have. But me? I wish revenge on people every day, want to make them suffer! now, maybe I would not act on it, or maybe I would
(!) but I do not see them as deserving anything but torture.the people who abused me I mean.
Sorry this is so useless..li can barely see what I am typing for one thing. But I hear your despair and desperation, I hear it. I can’t change it but I hear you.
Love
Phoebe
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thanks. Pheobe, that was really, great . . . I’ll answer better later, I have an appointment.
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Phoebe, my inner child wants revenge! It wants for them to finally want to talk to me and for me to return the favour they paid me, you know? But that’s only one voice in a rowdy internal parliament, as they say.
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Thanks Phoebe. As bad as it sounds, I gotta get it out.
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You’ve always seemed pretty together to me, mentally, astute, analytical and the key point you take on new info and even if you initially disagree you look into things. This as a science student and follower I appreciate. Obviously your personal life is/was as disastrous as mine – relatively – as all things are I think.
I think I recovered, as far as I can tell, not because I followed everything the doctors, experts and well meaning friends advised but – well actually I don’t really know enough to advise. If I had to say something I’d say I entirely fucked my life at least 3 times and I had to leave those things behind, hard to do as they are seductively comfortable – it’s like shedding a skin in the freezing cold – it feels unnatural. This is my shabby way of giving advice – which is not to but to use myself as an example of how utterly fucked sometimes can be made fine/ok/good.
A big part of it is realising and embracing and then putting the old skin in the bin and slowly knitting a new one. The hardest thing is direction – where the fuck do I go now? People laughed at me when at 19 I decided I was too old and too ruined to go anywhere -then at least every year after. I think people often look at their age/occupation and go – nope too late.
I’m glad I didn’t I’d probably have gone back to my old job. Now I have no plans and some skills that are actually useful to me, I’ve never ever thought I’d find work but heh – I even did that, ok it wasn’t a full job but I did something that someone wanted that wasn’t to do with my body. Feels pretty good.
Chin up mate
xx
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Thanks, M. I was starting to give up on being seen as myself, sorta forgot about you two. This was my portrait of the me that my daughter paints, as well as the me that a million fembots online expect to see . . . mainly the me that could have gotten some counseling. Yes, you’re a hopeful story. I’ve seen a few success stories, as well as a few lifelong struggles with less success, of course.
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Sorry I didn’t get this because it’s not a reply, I just thought I’d check on the of chance,,,
Don’t, If I ever feel shitty I remember that often I’ll look at something and think it’s cool. Sometimes that thing is mundane to others. I recently got back from the arse end of Western Australia where I was working on a project for uni and at night at the facility I’d look up and dribble in awe of how many stars you can see with your naked eye when there’s’ no light pollution or moisture in the air.
It’s terrible that your daughter feels that way – and well most people online blow – they are shitfull to others because they probably are meek in RL. Pay them no mind. I’m 28 now, so I’m by no means a girl, I’ve done things, been places a lot of adults haven’t/never will and sure there are worse off people and better but there is a uniqueness to all of us yanno. A thing that makes us different and worth the knowing. Scars make us interesting, pass fail or otherwise.
You know you remind me a bit of Xander I wish I could impress on him his coolness too.
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oops
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