~ archived since 2018 ~

Independence should be mentioned and celebrated more than just one day a year. We should live it daily. Independence from marriage should be declared by all.

July 3, 2019
140 upvotes

Happy Independence Day

Since the 4th of July festivities are about to begin, I thought it a good time to share my story. Not only will I be celebrating the United States’ independence from England, I will be celebrating my personal independence from slavery known as marriage and the sentence of life in Hell being married to a Borderline Personality Disordered woman. It has been an uphill battle that is now over. While not easy, I hope that those of you that remain enslaved can find the voice, power, and ability to remove yourself from that soul sucking situation. Additionally, I would like to thank all of you on WAATGM that submit posts and comments regularly. I stumbled upon this sub a mere 7 months ago. The comradery, brotherly love, and no bullshit attitudes have been a welcome relief from the day to day bullshit. It has helped to remind me that the light at the end of the tunnel is not necessarily a train, just that the bullshit behind me was a real-life train wreck.

They say that ignorance of the law is no excuse for breaking the law. Many of us has heard this phrase at one point or another. For those that haven’t heard it before, the basic gist is that the law is the law and you will be held accountable for your actions (breaking the law) even if you did not know what you were doing is/was illegal. The same thought process stands true with women. Ignorance of women is no excuse when you realized that you have chosen the wrong one (or two or 5), you will still be held legally and financially accountable to that woman. If you are not married, then don’t ever get married. If you are married, then do not make rash and impulsive decisions when you finally see the face of the stranger that you are legally bound to. Divorce is a woman’s game that is designed so you have very little chance of winning. The rules are written by women, changed by women, interpreted by women, and enforced by women. Most of them are hidden until the judge shoves a copy up your ass. Acting impulsively just makes it easier for them to screw you over.

Anyoneinamerica’s Story

About 25 years ago, I started a new job where I met this hot little Latina (red flag) woman. She was separated from her husband (red flag) and father to one of her two children (red flag). She was an attractive woman that was about 5 years older and was actively flirty with me (red flag). We worked together and hit on each other for about 6 months before anything moved forward. The entire time the flirtation was sexual but lacked the crudeness that you would find with the typical slut. She had a coy virtue to her method that left me with the impression of a good girl that is just stuck in a bad marriage. Now enters Captain Save-a-Hoe...We went from flirty co-workers to balls deep fucking, literally 5 minutes after I suggested it (red flag). There was no dating, there was no seduction required, there was an unspoken urgency that I didn’t recognize and mistook for attraction and passion. I had been around the block a few times and was no stranger to sex, even some really fun kinky stuff; but the talents that this woman possessed were professional grade(red flag). My younger and more ignorant self was hooked. I was thinking with my dick and not heading advice from others. In my mind, she was the perfect woman. My own sexy olive skinned, dark haired, and horny Latina unicorn.

We continued to fuck with abandon like coked up rabbits and we began ‘dating’. We would go out to dinner, movies, dancing, theater, and other romantic type shit. Of course, it was all on my dime, since she was a ‘traditional’ kind of girl, despite the porn star quality sex I was receiving (red flag). There was plenty of time to do all these things since her soon to be ex-husband had custody of the kids, even the one that wasn’t his biological child (red flag). Regardless of what we were doing, we would be fucking afterwards. We would fuck in the car, in her apartment, in the office after hours, on the patio, and on a boat. If it was logistically and physically possible, then we took advantage of it and fucked. The more extravagant the date, then the more intense the sex was later. I didn’t realize until later that the sex was just bait and switch and a form of behavioral conditioning. She was training me to associate great sex with providing my time and money for her, at least indirectly.

Not long after this point we decided to move to a new city and get new jobs. It was a new beginning for both of us. A way to start a new life together and all that other chick flick bullshit. However, in all reality it was a way to separate me from my friends and family. Since I was blinded by sex and thinking with my dick, I jumped at the chance. We moved to a new place, got an apartment, and began to play house together. We combined incomes because that is what all serious couples do, right. We both worked and put money in the bank. Since I worked further from our apartment, didn’t have a desk job, and she was ‘better’ at balancing the checkbook; we (she) decided that she would manage the finances. It was weird that we never had extra money to do anything like taking trips to the beach, going to a winery for the weekend, and the occasional nice dinner out. We did these things before, when I was paying, but no longer. When I asked about it, I was told that we didn’t have the money. Again strange, since I had the money before. I asked to see the finances and the bank statements, which I thought was a reasonable request. Apparently, I was wrong in that regard. The argument that ensued was long and loud. It continued even after I gave up and went to sleep. She would wake me up to argue some more. When I say argue, I really mean to say call me a new derogatory name that she thought up and repeat the other ones that she had already used. The general overview was that I was a piece of shit for not trusting her and having the audacity to ask where the money was going. I later learned by going through my own financial information, that she kept locked in the desk, that she had a previous bankruptcy, had managed to acquire some credit cards with high interest, and had also managed to max them out. I was paying these debts and didn’t know. What happened when I asked about her financial situation? Another fight where I ask a question, she repeatedly yells obscenities at me, questions my manhood, and berates me for having the temerity to go through the papers in her desk. As you can probably guess by now, each and every time this occurred I would cave in. Once I would admit my transgression and properly grovel for her forgiveness; I would be rewarded with great sex. Thinking with my dick was getting me in deeper and deeper shit.

These types of spats played out on repeat for a few years. She was a master manipulator and easily twisted anything I said to be in the wrong. I truly began to believe that I had problems and was in the wrong for questioning things that seemed wrong to me. My perspective was destroyed and only she could think correctly. If I wanted peace and happiness, then I had to change. Unfortunately, I did change. I ceded control of my money, my life, my decisions, and my happiness to her. ‘We’ decided to get married and ‘we’ decided to have children. So we got married and had 2 children. ‘We’ decided that it would make more sense financially and developmentally if she became a stay at home mom until the kids were old enough for school. We wouldn’t have daycare expenses and household issues like meals, laundry, and housekeeping could be taken care of by her. Of course, it did not work out like that. When the kids became school age, she couldn’t be bothered to find a job. The constant excuse being, “I’ve been out of the market for sooo long, I can’t find a good job.” As a SAHM, she couldn’t be bothered to clean the house, wash laundry, buy groceries, prepare a meal, take the kids to school, pick them up from school, take them to doctor’s visits, change out of pajamas, have sex, or any other domestic duties. She was a literal parasite. She only consumed and provided nothing but shit in return. Speaking of consuming, the only thing that she did for the 19 years that we were married was buy shit. Twice during our marriage and once at the dissolution of our marriage, I had to figure out a way to pay off the ballooning debt that she created through on-line and TV shopping. I promise you that you do not know real financial and physical manifestations of stress until you have a BPD wife, two kids, a brutally murdered credit score, and $40K+ in consumer debt on top of regular cost of living; and persevered through it not once, not twice, but on 3 separate and distinct occasions. It got so bad at some points that I seriously considered suicide but couldn’t figure out a way to accomplish this and guarantee that the insurance companies would pay out. Additionally, I obviously couldn’t trust that she would be a good steward of the money or my children.

I love my children and would do anything for them. I do not think of them as a negative thing in my life, but the reality is that they were her safety net. I didn’t understand until much later that they were the anchor on which she would guarantee her cash and prizes when I was used up and she moved on to the next mark. Since she could not be relied upon to do anything but manage the finances (poorly) with an iron grip; and I being the only responsible party in this ‘relationship’ I did the only thing that I knew how; I worked. I worked my regular job which pays well. I worked side jobs to bring in cash to pay the debts. I worked in the house to feed and provide for my kids. I worked to raise my kids. I worked, I cooked, I cleaned, I did laundry, I went to the grocery store, I took my kids to the doctor, dentist, & orthodontist, and I got my kids to school & back. I lived on about 3 hours of sleep each day for many years while she slept all fucking day and shopped all night.

THE MAIN EVENT(S)

That’s right events…plural. Now that I have provided a little background on the hell that was my marriage and my life on a consistent basis, I will talk about the 3 distinctive events that pushed me to wake up and realize that my life sucks and is in no way close to normal. During the relationship there were almost daily fights, arguments, disagreements, and the beloved silent treatment. I became numb, tolerant, accepting, and blind to them. What most men would consider the ‘main event’ was just a weekly event in my life. These spats were usually verbal, emotional, and manipulative in nature. They did not always include violence, but that was always a possibility and did happen often. As a male, I was expected to take it but not reciprocate. In addition to these daily and weekly conflicts, there were 3 major events that I classify as ‘main events’. Each ended up being extremely physical and violent and each ended up with the police being involved.

The first was at the 6-year mark of the marriage. Things were becoming unusually more tense and financial difficulties were the cause. The short version was that I was less than a real man because I didn’t make enough money to support my family. I was neglectful of my family (her) because all I did was work and take care of the kids. I am spending too much time away from the house ‘working’ and must be fucking some chick on the side since I had no interest in trying to fuck my wife. The hindsight view is a little different. We were severely in debt and she was no longer able to hide it from me as I was receiving collection calls at my work. To deflect away from the problem of debt, to manipulate me into not leaving, and reassert her control over me; she instigated a fight and escalated it to physically violent. Lots of things in the house were broken, many glass objects were broken on my head. When she picked up broken glass and kitchen knives to attack me, I called the police. She was removed but instead of jail they took her to a psych facility where she spent 72 hours. There was a hearing and the judge released her and instructed her to go to therapy for her ‘temporary moment of some shit’. There were no charges, no trial, no convictions. Not one fucking consequence for her trying to stab me because she got angry. She went to therapy right up to the point where I filed bankruptcy, lost the house, had no credit, forgave her, and agreed to work on things. Therapy immediately stopped. We moved into an apartment closer to my work, and life continued pretty much unchanged.

The second event was at the 11-year mark of the marriage. Leading up to this point from the last chaotic event, finances were doing ok since we didn’t have any credit and were paying cash for everything. However, after a year or two we started getting credit card offers with high interest rates. I found out much later that she had applied for and received many credit cards in both her and my names to ‘build up our credit scores again.’ Of course, dumb ass me accepted this as a good idea. During this time, she had become accustomed to me being available as her personal servant since we lived closer to where I worked. When I received a promotion, more responsibility, and had to work in a different location; she did not take it well. The accusations of infidelity began again. The daily and weekly spats were the norm for a while, but things were escalating like the last spat. As much as I tried to give in to her bullshit and avoid another fight, she would just push harder. I began to ignore her, not react or respond and continue with my responsibilities as if nothing was wrong. As was the norm for me at the time, I came home to get lunch and make sure the kids had something healthy to eat for lunch. She chose this moment to ratchet up the fight that had been going on for days. Yelling, cursing, and name calling ensued. Household objects became projectiles as she deployed the attack and retreat method of battle. She would throw something to hit me but would typically miss or I would deflect it. After a period of this combined with the need to return to work, I simply said, “I’m done. I am going back to work now.” I reached the third step from the top, as I was walking down the stairs, when I was hit in the back of the head and tumbled the rest of the way down the stairs. She had grabbed a large school dictionary and hurled it at me from a few feet away. As I picked myself up from the heap at the bottom of the stairs, I glanced up to see her standing at the top smirking. As I slowly walked up the steps glaring at her, she ran to hide in the bathroom. The locked bathroom door exploded as I walked through it. I walked up to her, grabbed her by the throat, lifted her off the ground, and informed her to never hit me again. I set her down, walked out, and went back to work.

I thought the fight was over, at least until I went home; but I was mistaken. Gravely mistaken. The cops picked me up from work later that afternoon. I was arrested and spent 3 nights in jail, since it was a Friday and I wouldn’t have an arraignment until Monday morning. I was arraigned, received a restraining order, had bail set, and had a trail date set. I contacted a lawyer to try and figure a way out of this disaster. I tried to bond out but couldn’t make bail right away because all the funds in my account were gone. I had to have my lawyer contact my employer to stop the direct deposit on my next paycheck and pickup my paycheck that Friday. I remained in jail for 7 days until I had the funds to make bail. I slept in my office for another week since I could not go to my home. Desperately trying to figure out how to piece my life back together and still ignorant, I thought that she had come to her senses and wanted to reconcile when she had the temporary restraining order removed. My dumb ass went back home to try and rebuild the marriage/family that was there. I was tried and convicted because nothing that she did mattered to the family court. I received 2 years of probation, forced to take parenting classes, forced to take the batterer’s intervention courses, and pay fines and fees.

I can argue the merits of the moronic Duluth model, the hypocrisy of the family court, and the bullshit that feminism has sprayed upon this country for a very long time. The actions of those 3 things led to my being awoken to how the system works and how I as a man am at a disadvantage. If it was not for the requirement to take the batterer’s intervention courses; I would have likely never learned the extent of the abuse spectrum. I would not have learned about the types of abuse that are classified. I would not have learned of the types of personalities that are abusive. I would not have learned exactly how the system treats abusers. Most importantly, I would not have learned that I was indeed being abused by my crazy spouse and she would likely kill me one day. Granted the classes all list women as the victim and men as the abusers, but it doesn’t really take that much of a leap to swap the gender roles to realize that I was the victim and continued to be the victim, regardless of what the courts might say.

I decided then that it was over, but I had persevered this long and I was not going to let the system screw me and my kids. I played the part that I was expected to. I received the abuse of my spouse on a regular basis. I redirected the abuse that she intended for the kids onto myself. I went on as I had done for the past 10 years. However, while I was at work I would:

  1. research everything that I could on my situation.

  2. research about NPD and BPD women and wasn’t shocked at what I found since I was living it.

  3. research the best family law attorney in the area and placed her on retainer.

  4. Squirrel small amounts of money away

  5. Record as many confrontations as I could

  6. Document each argument in a logbook

  7. Document each time she was abusive to the kids

  8. Find and research the Red Pill

  9. Find and research MRA sites

  10. Find and research NPD and BPD sites for victims

I continued and waited for the next event. I knew it would come and had to be patient. More importantly, I had to be stoic when it did happen. I could not react to anything that she would throw at me, lest I end up in jail again.

The next event happened around the 17-year mark of our marriage. I waited and suffered for an additional 7 years. She did not disappoint. One Saturday morning, while I was sleeping, she decided it was time to shake it up again. She began by throwing and shattering everything in the home that was glass. I woke up after the first item broke downstairs. After I heard 3 or 4 items shatter, I knew what was going on. I woke up the kids and had them get dressed, told them not to fight with their mom, and we waited. I waited and allowed her to build up a head of steam and destruction like never seen before. She laid waste to our home. She threw things at me. She threw knives at me. She attempted to hit me with her fists and kick me; and I passively allowed it. She broke a glass vase on the back of my head, and I allowed it. She hit me in the face with a book, and I allowed it. She kicked me in the stomach cracking a rib, and I allowed it. She left me bloody and bruised, AND I ALLOWED IT. When her attacking me didn’t garner the reaction that she wanted, she moved her attention to the kids. She screamed and yelled and insulted them, and I allowed it. When she punched one of them, I stepped in to protect him. She retargeted me for her violence and hit me some more. I sent the kids to the basement, followed them, and called the police. When the cops arrived, she was still destroying shit and throwing shit around the house. They arrested her and took her to jail for domestic violence. They took pictures of the destruction. They took pictures of my wounds, bruises, and cuts. They took pictures of the bruises on my child. She was released on her own recognizance (no bail needed) 2 hours later with a 3-day temporary restraining order. I refer you to my experience above on a Friday and encourage you to remember that this occurrence was on a Saturday morning.

I pressed charges and filed for a restraining order for me and my kids. I filed for full custody of my kids. I filed for full possession of our home. I went to court with 145 eight by ten glossy photographs of the destruction. My lawyer, on my orders, was relentless and employed a scorched earth policy.

She received 2 years of probation, batterer’s intervention course, parenting courses, court mandated therapy, and a full 2-year protective order for me and my kids. I was awarded full custody of my children. When the restraining order expires both of my children will be over the age of 18. Once the criminal and custody aspects were concluded, I filed for at fault divorce. After one-year separation (why I still don’t know), the divorce was granted. I have my house, my kids, my sanity, my peace of mind, my financial security, and a much better life. She did not receive any cash and prizes from the court. No child support, no alimony, no retirement account, no cash settlement, no house, and no car…not one fucking thing other than her clothes.

CONCLUSION / RESPONSE

As a result of the corrupt police and judicial system that has been overrun by feminist doctrine and policies, the average man cannot and will not receive a fair trial. A woman can and will use this against a man if she believes that it benefits her. I have realized that there were many events in my marriage that were designed to provoke a reaction from me so that my spouse could assert dominance and control. Having lived it and read more accounts than I can count of other men that were in similar situations and been fucked by the court for having done nothing more than defending themselves, I can say that I am cured of the mental disease known as marriage. There is absolutely no benefit to the male in marriage and incalculable liability. I shall never marry again. I shall never again co-mingle my finances with a woman. I shall never get to a point where I cannot walk out of a relationship again. The first sign of disrespect or attitude, and I will be gone. There will never be another woman sleep in my home longer than one or two nights. I will never be subjected to the whims of the evil incarnate that is woman. They will lie, cheat, and steal to benefit themselves. They have absolutely zero remorse for destroying people and will often do it out of boredom.

I consider myself to be a good man. I am responsible, honest, hardworking, fairly attractive, in shape, ear a decent living, fairly educated, etc etc etc. However, the simple answer as to why this 'Good Man' has checked out is that women treat men like shit and cannot be trusted to be loyal, supportive, loving, caring, or any other traditional female stereotype. The Female organism is fundamentally flawed and as a parasite destroys each and every host that it attaches to. Men are happier, healthier, and safer to avoid women like the plague that they are.

I would and will advise any man or boy to never get married and never be bound to a woman for any reason. The troubles are many and the benefits are non-existent.

I am going to have a very happy 4th of July as I have fought and won my personal independence. I wish the rest of you that have yours a happy independence day as well. For those that are still shackled under the tyrannical boot of a woman...figure out your battle plan and live free.

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Post Information
Title Independence should be mentioned and celebrated more than just one day a year. We should live it daily. Independence from marriage should be declared by all.
Author anyoneinamerica
Upvotes 140
Comments 51
Date July 3, 2019 5:13 PM UTC (2 years ago)
Subreddit /r/WhereAllTheGoodMenAre
Archive Link https://theredarchive.com/r/WhereAllTheGoodMenAre/independence-should-be-mentioned-and-celebrated.345082
https://theredarchive.com/post/345082
Original Link https://old.reddit.com/r/WhereAllTheGoodMenAre/comments/c8qq7c/independence_should_be_mentioned_and_celebrated/
Comments
You can kill a man, but you can't kill an idea.

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