My wife left me.

Nazi Germany

Nazi Germany

Zubeer Adolf Hipster -Nazi Monkoid Rights Activist
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She had to. How could anyone stay with this? I wasn’t a partner. I was a walking mess, a collection of broken thoughts wrapped in skin. She didn’t leave me for someone else—she left me for survival. For peace. For a chance at something better, because I was never going to be "better." I was just a burden. Not a husband, not even a man; just a weight dragging her down. She deserves better than this endless, pathetic cycle of me trying to fix what’s already shattered. Every morning, she’d look at me with that silent plea in her eyes, like she wanted so badly for me to be someone else. Someone who could love her properly. Someone who could even love themselves. I could feel her slipping away, bit by bit, while I sat there, doing nothing but watching it happen, powerless. What do you even do when the best thing for someone is to leave you? What do you say? “Please stay and watch me ruin your life even more”? She left because I couldn't give her what she needed. Not emotionally, not mentally, not physically. What do I even have left to give? I’m just this hollow shell now. I used to think there was something inside me worth saving, but I realize now, maybe there never was. Maybe it was always this empty, and I was too blind to notice. People talk about being broken, but no one ever tells you that sometimes, you’re not even that. You’re just… nothing. I don’t want to touch another person. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to love, because look what happens when I try. All I ever do is hurt people by existing near them. What’s left now? Grey. Asexual. Monkoid. Whatever label fits, it doesn’t matter. It’s all the same thing—just a way to explain that I’m done. Done with everything. Done with pretending I have anything to offer the world, or anyone in it.
tumblr_ogtbmgHYLg1uczg6eo1_540.gif

She left me. But honestly, she probably should have left a long time ago. And I hope she finds happiness, because I sure as hell never will.

@MoggerGaston @_MVP_ @Vermilioncore @BigJimsWornOutTires @TsarTsar444
 
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@nullandvoid @Tabula Rasa @PROMETHEUS @SecularIslamist @the BULL
No point of living.
 
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She had to. How could anyone stay with this? I wasn’t a partner. I was a walking mess, a collection of broken thoughts wrapped in skin. She didn’t leave me for someone else—she left me for survival. For peace. For a chance at something better, because I was never going to be "better." I was just a burden. Not a husband, not even a man; just a weight dragging her down. She deserves better than this endless, pathetic cycle of me trying to fix what’s already shattered. Every morning, she’d look at me with that silent plea in her eyes, like she wanted so badly for me to be someone else. Someone who could love her properly. Someone who could even love themselves. I could feel her slipping away, bit by bit, while I sat there, doing nothing but watching it happen, powerless. What do you even do when the best thing for someone is to leave you? What do you say? “Please stay and watch me ruin your life even more”? She left because I couldn't give her what she needed. Not emotionally, not mentally, not physically. What do I even have left to give? I’m just this hollow shell now. I used to think there was something inside me worth saving, but I realize now, maybe there never was. Maybe it was always this empty, and I was too blind to notice. People talk about being broken, but no one ever tells you that sometimes, you’re not even that. You’re just… nothing. I don’t want to touch another person. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to love, because look what happens when I try. All I ever do is hurt people by existing near them. What’s left now? Grey. Asexual. Monkoid. Whatever label fits, it doesn’t matter. It’s all the same thing—just a way to explain that I’m done. Done with everything. Done with pretending I have anything to offer the world, or anyone in it.
tumblr_ogtbmgHYLg1uczg6eo1_540.gif

She left me. But honestly, she probably should have left a long time ago. And I hope she finds happiness, because I sure as hell never will.

@MoggerGaston @_MVP_ @Vermilioncore @BigJimsWornOutTires @TsarTsar444
Op has a 36% of recovering from this event
 
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Brutal
 
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@TechnoBoss @ReadBooksEveryday @StarvedEpi @Ultimate Subhuman™ @standardcel Maybe I have posted my soyfeelings
at wrong place.
 
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She didn't leave you. She left the shell of the man you have become

It is time to restore honor to yourself.
 
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I can relate to the idea of feeling shattered and constantly having to put effort into holding the pieces together.

The moment you slip, the moment your motivation/discipline falters, your life-quality, mental-state, social-life, physical body all start degrading again rapidly. I stop working out, I start eating goyslop, drinking alcohol, socially isolating, stop putting effort into goals, and more.

I never really struggled with this while dating though, because for dates I could whip myself into the chad persona I want to give off for that specific day/date.
I do the same at my current job where people think I am some fuckboy chad, 29yo student enjoying his life and breaking girl's hearts.

My supervisors at my job think I am doing great in life. I can sometimes see they are jealous of the persona they think I am,

The girls I date, are impressed with how clean and organized my apartment is, little do they know: I clean it just for them and any time in between our dates it's a complete rotter's den with food everywhere, hair, open bottles of alcohol, smell, unwashed sheets: the typical.

When I socialize with people, I have a low-inhib, high-energy, funny personality. I interact a lot with people and people tell me I am an interesting person, life of the party. Little do they know these are just the peak-moments they experience of me, while in between interactions I am a complete loser.


As I grow older, I care less about putting up a persona anymore. But instead of being my true self more when I go out, I just go out less.

I just socially isolate more and more as that's the easiest for me not having to fake who I am.

If this goes on, I an convinced that 10 years from now I will be 'that lunatic' who doesn't leave his house for months and who people don't even know who lives there or whether I am alive.

Funny GIF


This is all set in motion and it is impossible to stop. I can keep putting the pieces of me back together again every day, more often, like I have done in the past. But as I grow older, the amount of pieces become more and more and it becomes impossible to hold.

The rope is calling
Wild West Cowboy GIF by Escape Hunt UK
 
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Type shit
1000004168
 
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Sometimes I feel like you're an older version of me and what I've gone through, am going through and will go through.
 
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Sometimes I feel like you're an older version of me and what I've gone through, am going through and will go through.
Maybe I am.
Maybe You're a voice in my head.
 
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Maybe I am.
Maybe You're a voice in my head.
I'm not, and I hope I won't go through your traumas and issues and I hope that we both get better.
 
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I can relate to the idea of feeling shattered and constantly having to put effort into holding the pieces together.

The moment you slip, the moment your motivation/discipline falters, your life-quality, mental-state, social-life, physical body all start degrading again rapidly. I stop working out, I start eating goyslop, drinking alcohol, socially isolating, stop putting effort into goals, and more.

I never really struggled with this while dating though, because for dates I could whip myself into the chad persona I want to give off for that specific day/date.
I do the same at my current job where people think I am some fuckboy chad, 29yo student enjoying his life and breaking girl's hearts.

My supervisors at my job think I am doing great in life. I can sometimes see they are jealous of the persona they think I am,

The girls I date, are impressed with how clean and organized my apartment is, little do they know: I clean it just for them and any time in between our dates it's a complete rotter's den with food everywhere, hair, open bottles of alcohol, smell, unwashed sheets: the typical.

When I socialize with people, I have a low-inhib, high-energy, funny personality. I interact a lot with people and people tell me I am an interesting person, life of the party. Little do they know these are just the peak-moments they experience of me, while in between interactions I am a complete loser.


As I grow older, I care less about putting up a persona anymore. But instead of being my true self more when I go out, I just go out less.

I just socially isolate more and more as that's the easiest for me not having to fake who I am.

If this goes on, I an convinced that 10 years from now I will be 'that lunatic' who doesn't leave his house for months and who people don't even know who lives there or whether I am alive.

Funny GIF


This is all set in motion and it is impossible to stop. I can keep putting the pieces of me back together again every day, more often, like I have done in the past. But as I grow older, the amount of pieces become more and more and it becomes impossible to hold.

The rope is calling
Wild West Cowboy GIF by Escape Hunt UK
You'll become THE CAT MAN?

Best Friends Cat GIF by Chevrolet
 
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that's what happens when you stop putting yourself as the priority in your life and puts a woman instead. That's the fate of all cucked LTRs.
 
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Life of the self awared ltn-mtn(esp if non NT), it never began and you knew it yourself. You knew the destiny and all the consequences, you had a feeling. Succes was never an option, a desperate call for help is all you get but no one will answer. You are left in the void and into the abyss you will be dragged. Spagettified in a black hole is how you leave, pain is the only true feeling you will ever experience. Happiness may come In Bursts but content which lasts will be no where to be found. You have been devoured by the hole existence, fucked by the gods
 
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@HighLtn @Jova @IAMNOTANINCEL @Gonthar @SidharthTheSlayer
 
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She had to. How could anyone stay with this? I wasn’t a partner. I was a walking mess, a collection of broken thoughts wrapped in skin. She didn’t leave me for someone else—she left me for survival. For peace. For a chance at something better, because I was never going to be "better." I was just a burden. Not a husband, not even a man; just a weight dragging her down. She deserves better than this endless, pathetic cycle of me trying to fix what’s already shattered. Every morning, she’d look at me with that silent plea in her eyes, like she wanted so badly for me to be someone else. Someone who could love her properly. Someone who could even love themselves. I could feel her slipping away, bit by bit, while I sat there, doing nothing but watching it happen, powerless. What do you even do when the best thing for someone is to leave you? What do you say? “Please stay and watch me ruin your life even more”? She left because I couldn't give her what she needed. Not emotionally, not mentally, not physically. What do I even have left to give? I’m just this hollow shell now. I used to think there was something inside me worth saving, but I realize now, maybe there never was. Maybe it was always this empty, and I was too blind to notice. People talk about being broken, but no one ever tells you that sometimes, you’re not even that. You’re just… nothing. I don’t want to touch another person. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to love, because look what happens when I try. All I ever do is hurt people by existing near them. What’s left now? Grey. Asexual. Monkoid. Whatever label fits, it doesn’t matter. It’s all the same thing—just a way to explain that I’m done. Done with everything. Done with pretending I have anything to offer the world, or anyone in it.
tumblr_ogtbmgHYLg1uczg6eo1_540.gif

She left me. But honestly, she probably should have left a long time ago. And I hope she finds happiness, because I sure as hell never will.

@MoggerGaston @_MVP_ @Vermilioncore @BigJimsWornOutTires @TsarTsar444
Ok
 
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