I didn't consciously swallow the red pill, and I didn't do it recently. I remember that winter (seasonal and spiritual) that I suffered, alone in the cold, the bitter taste of my revelations wildly evident in the journal that I kept at the time. It was all self-pity and pointless remorse, but I had to get it out. It was poison. Those months roughly two years ago were the first step towards breaking out of my blue pill mentality, but I didn't call it that. All I knew is that I had to change. And without a supportive community, I was going to do it by myself, through force of will. Without delving into that whole mess, the most important thing I learned was that I am nothing. Compared to everyone else in the world, I am nothing unless I make myself something. After a four year relationship and then two months of separation we had this conversation:

"You don't want me back?" "You have to earn me back," she replied through text. "So what...do I have competition?" Naïve. But aren't we all. "Quit being a little bitch. Do something if you want me back." ... "And yes, you have competition."

I only learned that lesson through hindsight, for I spent the next half year wallowing and trying to make that relationship work again. But she already thought of me as a bitch, and I didn't know how to fix it. So I cut my losses and split. From then until this past February, I had a few ONS and one steady FWB for awhile, but...I don't know, I still felt defeated from that one girl. I still thought I should be monogamous, and I was still trying to find "the one." Eventually I ended up fooling around with this party-type girl, and if you know the type of girl I'm talking about, then you know this was a bad idea. This is the type of girl you subconsciously want to conquer, but never will, because you can't turn whores into housewives. I tried anyway, but I had no clue what I was getting into. She, despite her actions, told me she was falling for me. Within a couple of weeks, she had conditioned me to be her little beta bitch. It got really bad. It started out as a one-time make out session with another guy in front of me (and I saw it building to that point all night, but did nothing), evolved into fooling around with him on nights when she strategically played me out of her plans, outright ignored me, and basically fucked around with him until he moved back to California, where she crawled back to me. I should have dropped that bitch months ago, but we get stupid when we're comfortable. And I'm a fixer by nature. Dust settled and we (I) wanted to work things out. I just got promoted and I got a bonus check, so I saw an opportunity to make a grand gesture. She had been wanting to go to Bonnaroo but didn't have the money, and I wanted to go anyway. Suddenly I had a little extra money and I suggested it. She was ecstatic, fucking obviously.

"What would you say if I told you I could get tickets to Bonnaroo?" You could almost feel the way her face lit up. "I mean...it would be the single greatest weekend of my life!" She finally said. "But seriously, you don't have to do that!" She had to cover her ass and not look like a gold digging whore, so she offered me this false way out if I wanted it. "No, baby, I want to." I fucking disgust me sometimes.

So we go. I buy all the shit. I drive. I set up the campsite. I cook the food. I make everything fucking perfect for this girl. And on the first night, she ditches me for strangers and does hard drugs all night long, leaving me to worry and fume. She comes back in the morning, not even acknowledging that anything is fucked. She begins to tell me about her fun night, and I try my best to "radiate positivity." I joke about it and let her off the hook. After apologizing and telling me she won't do it again, she does it again the next night. I said fuck it, took some acid with my buddy that came down with us, and we watched the fuck out of Kanye West, tripping balls all night. And if you've ever done acid, well...it's like a shock of truth taken to the fucking brain. My friend and I ended up back at camp talking about her in the most basic terms possible.

"Man, I know you're tired, but I'm probably going to go back out and find her." "Bro, there's like 20,000 people out there. You will never find her." I crack a beer. "I've got to try." "Are you really going back out man?" I just look at him, and he knows that I'm torn. Find her, don't find her, it will never matter. He cracks a beer and I drop my eyes. "Rule number one," he says, "never take a girl to a music festival." I laugh, but I have to agree. "Yeah. Unless she's your wife." He laughs too, but I realize the truth as I said it: "Well, no, cause even your wife is liable to do some shit..." We laughed again and drank more beer.

The next morning she came back and I told her I was done with her and that she could do whatever she wanted, because I don't give a fuck. The festival was over in two days, and that's the next time I expected to see her, and until then I don't give a fuck. I'm going to pack shit up Sunday and when we get home, I'm never going to see her again. She spent the remainder of the trip trying to awkwardly keep me around but I barely said three words to her. Me and my friend smoked weed and left her behind. And when we got back from Tennessee, I lived up to my promise. It's been a couple months and the only contact we've had was her drunkenly calling me, which I ignored because I was fucking a cute redhead when she called.

But all of that was before I even found this subreddit. As much success as I was having in the aftermath of being a beta bitch, basically being an alpha, I still felt alone, dark, and angsty. And that weighed on me. I hate feeling like a bad guy. I just wanted to be happy and treat girls nicely, but I had to be this way. And it made me feel like shit. But I kept acting like the alpha. That article of the guy bashing TRP sent me here. Everything fell into place.....I can't...just the huge amount of relief I felt was incredible. It's like you guys have gone through the same shit I have and you knew exactly the medicine I needed. And for the last couple weeks, I've consumed everything redpill that I could. It's like breathing air again, after breathing water. Like fucking flying. It sounds dramatic, but you guys are literally sharing my burden, the burden of women. This was going to be a field report, because Thursday I had the easiest first kiss ever, and just because I could. Saturday, I'll be fucking that redhead all day long and then taking her to a party that night, where I've invited other potential plates. Sunday night I've got options between making out with another girl in a movie theatre or blowing my load on a chubby girl's perfect titties. But I guess this is a thank you, and a message to those who do feel the burden....we're in this shit together.