~ archived since 2018 ~

Lessons Learned from walking through Hell

January 20, 2022

Hello brothers,

I’m not sure any of you may remember me or my story. It’s been almost two years since sharing or posting. I was the guy who’s shit show of a marriage came to an end when my special needs son died. He spiked a fever of 109 degrees and cooked his brain. We took him off life support, all while my wife was too busy being a whore and fucking around during this time. It was the worst time of my life, but thanks to a lot of what I’ve learned here I’ve emerged from the fires of hell more refined. I want to give back and share some of the foundational learnings and lessons I’ve had along the way.

No one cares

Let’s start here. This was the harshest of realities given the situation. None of my friends checked in on me, my job didn’t give a fuck, even family bailed on me. For example, my mother told me taking my son off life support was “euthanasia”. This was a wild lesson for me to learn, because I assure you it cut deep. In general people care more about their lunch than anything that might resemble a struggle in your life. The lesson here, is there is a why behind STFU. You STFU because nobody cares, and because no one cares complaining it pointless.

The Volume is turned Down

After burying my son, it felt like the volume was turned down in life. People would complain about things, and I would always think to myself “These people have no fucking clue what problems are”. They have no clue of the value of their own time, time with children or relationships, and are honestly just pretending to be socialites. The world is filled with so much pointless audio clutter you often get lost in it, and forget to ground yourself and focus on what’s real and present. The lesson here, the world is loud. Ignore it and focus on what’s important to you. The rest will be there… making that same fucking noise.

Blue-Pill Habits

This is honestly what hurt me the worst. Prior to my son dying I was literally on my ascension to God-hood. My money was getting right, I took care of my son better than the doctors, I fucked my whore of a wife, I fucked other women, I was getting more ripped by the day, and I was a fucking ROCK in my mentality. However, burying my son nuked everything. I lost my identity, my mission, my purpose, my health (Lost 40lbs in less than a year), became depressed, and basically picked up every shit coping method I’d ever learned in my life. All of this was nothing more than a cycle of depression feeding itself. The lesson here, you know what habits are detrimental to yourself. Identify them and FUCKING STOP IT.


Now, I won’t lie to you guys. Given my circumstances, if I decided to share with a woman about what happened it was cat-nip. Women assume they can fix you (if you’re attractive). I fell into a relationship with one of the women I was fucking prior to the divorce. She was one of the few in my life that showed me kindness and empathy through the storm. However, the truth is she wanted to change me. Change me into someone I’m not. Shame me into doing handyman stuff at a house I don’t even live. To guilt me for not committing as much as I had in the past to other women. Name calling to tear down self-esteem to ensure they keep you in your lane. She tried to play the long game here, but unfortunately, I saw the writing on the wall. The lesson here, is AWALT. They will be solipsistic even at most down and out. If they see a chance to scoop up a “good dude” they will literally do anything to make it happen.

Spinning Plates

Easiest thing to do when you realize the basics and don’t over think shit. These women today are more thirsty than you are. I literally fucked a “lesbian” in the ass because she was having problems with her girlfriend. Shit has never been this easy. They say fly shit, thinking their slick waiting… LITERALLY WAITING for your to check their ass. Frame is everything, check their ass and then destroy her ass. Lesson here, be attractive and don’t give a fuck.


This is the most important part of everything involving TRP/MRP. The iron temple, the place you get to praise yourself with the blood and tears. To grow physically, as well as mentally. Working out sucks, it’s hard. A lot of the stuff is heavy, and it takes a lot of effort to pick those stupid things up only to set it back down. However, the benefits are so stupid there’s no argument to be made. Mental health is associated with physical health, as above so below. It helps with hormones, confidence, mental health, and literally makes you sexier and stronger. Most men don’t work out, and if they do, they’re fucking around in there playing with their dicks or something. I’ve had more woman check me out, compliment me, beg to fuck me, and do dirty things all because I have the discipline to go to the gym. The lesson here, just go to the god damn gym and stop fucking around. This is the first building block to being a stronger version of yourself.

This isn’t anything amazing, but this is just some of the lessons I learned from trying to escape my personal hell. I hope some of you find this useful, probably not. I hope you men are out here protecting your peace and mental health. Strange times we’re in, enjoy the decline.

TheRedArchive is an archive of Red Pill content, including various subreddits and blogs. This post has been archived from the subreddit /r/MarriedRedPill.

/r/MarriedRedPill archive

Download the post

Want to save the post for offline use on your device? Choose one of the download options below:

Post Information
You can kill a man, but you can't kill an idea.

© TheRedArchive 2023. All rights reserved.
created by /u/dream-hunter