I know this is a long story, and I know there have been a thousand like this posted on here. I promise, I am getting to the content, the point, and the discussion eventually. For now, its just a story. Feel free to berate. I know how difficult all of this is to read. Trust me, it is worse to write, and even worse to live. Remember, there is a difference in knowing the RedPill, and taking the RedPill. This whole thing will make sense eventually.
Following the typical BluePill, ONEitis failure, I discovered this forum. I spent about a six month period of time in monk mode. I got back to the gym, rapidly consumed the content on this sub and the sidebar, read everything and anything I could on Stoicism, and just generally attempted to unplug. You see, after consuming all this content, I thought I was unplugged. Let me reiterate that I have read the sidebar in its entirety at least ten times since discovering this sub. I knew that AWALT. I knew women didn't want some nurturer. I knew what Alpha traits where, and I knew that those where the things women where looking for. I read it here. I witnessed it in reality. The RedPill really was the truth, and I had been lied to forever. The problem was, I wasn't really fully unplugged. I was a reflection. I externalized Alpha traits, but I never really internalized them. I knew the content, but I didn't really understand it. I was like one of Socrates' companions in the cave. I saw the shadows, but I didn't see what gave their reflection. And this was impossible for me to understand, as I had success with women in college, and this was enough to convince myself that I had become Chad. Boy was I wrong. Getting laid by accident and convincing yourself its because you are king shit was damaging, and the wool was about to be lifted.
Living with Chad
After graduation, I began living with a long time work friend from my hometown. This guy was the definition of Alpha. Army Infantry Vet, charming, funny, and generally did not give a fuck about anything. We got along quite well. We both could out drink and out smoke anyone and everyone. Chad had a soft harem of no less than five girls at any one time. All of them knew about each other, and all of them where deeply in love with him. To give an example of Chad's escapades, I once witnessed him fuck three separate girls, one after another, at the exact same party, all of them fully aware of what just transpired. He even yelled "next" to the last one. It was un-fucking believable. It was like he was a goddamn Rock Star. He actually had girlfriends fighting each other over him. The shit was crazy. He wasn't even exceptionally good looking, and as I would later find out during Chad's gracious generosity and allowance of the good old fashioned Devil's Threeway, that he was not blessed in the size department. He was just, him. Truly, completely, him. I have never met another individual more aware of their own abilities, their own desires, and their own flaws.
I never had the same success. I had read all the content I could think of. I was lifting. I was approaching girls. I was talking to girls. Yet, I did not have any success with in person game. Not one time in the year and a half we lived together did I successfully close a cold approach. We lived in three different cities (we moved around for work) and in every new location, it was the same story. He may have had to try with a few different girls, but if Chad wanted to get laid, he was going to. The only way I ever succeeded in actual real life game was when Chad tossed me the friend of his ONS, or when Chad got tired of his plate, and I took the torch. I cant tell you the number of times I watched Netflix with a girl on our couch while Chad fucked her friend in the other room. I had success (so I told myself) with dating apps. They weren't the quality of women that I really wanted, or that I got in college. It seemed that I had absolutely no issue attracting anyone below a HB5, but I was lucky for even a ONS with anyone better. I was angry and in denial, and I was never aware of what I was doing wrong. I knew all the theory, I knew what to do. There was a living, breathing example in the other room and I STILL couldn't grasp what was happening.
In this part of my journey, I once again became a Beta Orbiter. But, it was not to a ONEitis. Instead, it was to Chad. I wanted to be him. I wanted all the things he had. I started mirroring what Chad was doing. I figured, hell, I will just fake it till I make I make it. There is a reason this is bad fucking advice folks. It brings you down some dark paths. I took the same supplements, followed his routine, asked him questions, and spent a lot of time watching what he did and mimicking it. I would use some of his lines, mirror his facial expressions, feign his aloof nature and complete carefree attitude. It only resulted in more anger and frustration. Sure, I knew the RedPill material. I was best friends with an actual Chad. I was in great shape and was immune to ONEitis. Why wasn't this getting any better? Why was I only able to seduce women I didn't want? Was I not hot enough? Was I not man enough?
Don't get me wrong. I greatly enjoyed the time I spent with Chad. I had a lot of fun, and he tossed me a lot of bones. But it was completely pathetic. It was at this point that I realized, something just was not clicking. I knew the truth about women. I had seen married women, mothers, sisters, Mormons, eighteen year olds, forty two year olds, every ethnicity and temperament imaginable, coming out of Chad's room. One time, I swear I found an actual Hajib in the laundry. I could write an entire novel on this man's conquests. I was angry. Really, really fucking angry. Why did these women act this way? Why where they all so completely dumb and stupid? Why was this little dicked ugly bastard able to sleep with well over two hundred women in the course of eighteen months? I did exactly what he did, and I couldn't hit ten percent of that. I had a degree, Chad didn't. I was smart, Chad wasn't. I was ripped, Chad rocked a soft dad bod. What was I missing?
I got deeply, deeply depressed. I hated my job, I hated my life, and I hated myself. Mostly, I hated women. Chad didn't know how to teach me to be him, because honestly, he was just him. He didn't learn this from books. He didn't read this on a forum or watch it on YouTube. He just, was. No matter how many RedPill threads I read, sets I took, swipes I matched with on Tinder, or nights out with Chad, I just never got to his level. Eventually, this pattern of behavior led me to realize that Chad had one thing that I didn't: he was a veteran. I decided to join the service. Yes, that is as fucking stupid as it sounds. I cannot express how fucking retarded it is to join the military primarily to become more Chad like. What did I say? FAKE IT TILL YOU MAKE IT IS TERRIBLE FUCKING ADVICE. And trust me. This isn't even rock bottom yet.
Stay tuned for Part 3.