"The next thing I know, I wake up on my mother’s couch, and she lived like 45 minutes away."

"I went on a seven day cruise to Mexico with my husband's family. Food was mediocre and there was soooo much of it. I felt like we spent most of the time eating or talking about when we would all meet up to eat some more. 

Room was tiny. I could hear the guy next door breathing when I was lying in bed. Couldn't really hang out on deck or by the pool while we were underway because it was so very windy. Excursions were expensive and basic (snorkelling, fishing, booze cruise, etc.). I felt trapped, over-fed, bored, and fleeced. Definitely not my type of vacation."

"My wife convinced me to try the fucking zipper. I, being a dumb fuck, agreed. It wasn't too bad at first. Now, before I move on, I think it's important to note here, my wife and I are both overweight. Not in, like, a sideshow sort of way, but definitely more than average. Now, I'm no physicist, but something about our increased mass compared to the other Zipper cages set us up for the deluxe experience. 

We started to spin around. Everyone did. But, where they'd kind of spin, stop, rock, in a more controlled manner, my wife and I just kept spinning. We spun and spun and spun some fucking more. I do not like to spin. A spin here and there. or an occasional loop, I'll tolerate it. But we were fucking spinning all the god-damned time.

In the middle of this spin-fest I was doing because my wife loves these bullshit rides, she has the audacity to say to me, 'I don't think I'm enjoying this anymore.' Oh, okay, well me either from spin two, but why tell me this while I'm in the middle of reaching the world record for consecutive cases of whiplash in five minutes? I can't stop the spinning. If I could, we'd stop. 

So now I'm hating the spinning and it's no longer something I did for her, because she is also hating the spinning. So I'm just mad and spinning and it feels like it'll never end. I resign myself to just spinning until I just up and die. Cause of death? God-damned Zipper. You couldn't pay me to get on it again. I've never been more relieved something was over."

"I did it once at my then-girlfriend’s house. She left to run to Taco Bell, and I vaguely remember leaving her house on foot to try to catch her. I vaguely remember walking down the road, and a car stopping. The next thing I know, I wake up on my mother’s couch, and she lived like 45 minutes away. What I’ve pieced together is that I started to get a ride with that car. 

I then walked to a hospital about 15 miles or so away, and I only know that because it’s where my mother picked me up. When I woke up on her couch, I noticed that my keys and wallet were both gone (I assume the driver of that car got me to hang them over, and my wallet had a couple of hundred pounds in it), and that it was early evening. I am missing roughly an 18-hour span where I have no knowledge of what happened."

"I have a lot of thoughts about the Polyam community, and I know everyone else does too, but I’m not trying to get into it. I just know that when I look back on that period of time in my life, all I see is someone who felt trapped and desperate to be loved. I met some nice people, but mostly all I experienced and saw was manipulation and heartbreak.

I truly think my ex enjoyed using being polyamorous as a way to further abuse me (I am NOT saying polyamory is inherently abusive, just that it was used in that way towards me). Also, idk if it was just the PNW Polyam community, but the number of men who referred to their wives as their 'nesting partner' and then still lied and cheated despite literally being open was astounding. 

What was more astounding was that they all did it without bathing, dressing like the 35-year-old adult man they were, financially supporting themselves, or knowing how to do basic tasks. Giving it 0/5 stars for me."