BRAIN ROT

Before we start, it’s important to understand that none of this is your fault. The system is deliberately set up to make you behave this way.

Let me explain why you have sexual fetishes. Many people ask me this question, and it’s not for some unique, exclusive reason. It’s actually a global phenomenon.

You seek out these experiences to find meaning in a life that often feels incredibly boring and meaningless.

Take James, for example. He has fetishes he’s never felt comfortable sharing with his wife.

He’s drawn to these hidden desires, seeking solace and excitement wherever he can find them.

Despite this secret life, he stays in his marriage — not because of love or connection, but out of familiarity and fear.

He’s terrified of the unknown and breaking free from the life he’s built, even if it no longer brings him joy.

Then there’s Matt, a filmmaker stuck working at Target because he can’t find a job in his field.

Living with roommates at 50, he feels his life is meaningless and often turns to alcohol to escape.

It’s not his fault — he’s been conditioned to believe things about himself that simply aren’t true.

These are just two men out of millions who have come to me over the years, each wanting to feel like a special snowflake because of their fetish. But the truth is, your fetish isn’t what makes you special. It’s a form of escape from a life that feels dull and routine.

Some people have the dullest lives outside of their kinks. Take the woman who dresses like Boy George, for example. By day, she’s a certified nursing assistant at a nursing home in Missouri. But at night, she puts on her makeup, snaps a few photos of her asshole, and posts them on Fetlife, racking up around 100 likes. What a life!

It is what it is. Some people take their sexual fetishes to extremes because they’re searching for meaning — more meaning than is really necessary.

So let’s go even deeper into WHY you have a sexual fetish.

And let’s not forget what’s looming on the horizon for all of you: DEATH.

Rot — it’s not just a metaphor for decay; it’s a slow, insidious creep that starts long before you even realize it. It begins in childhood, with the programming and repetitive patterns that are ingrained in you by your family, your school, your society.

You’re taught what it means to be a man, what roles you should play, what paths you should follow.

These beliefs and expectations sink into your psyche like seeds, planted deep, waiting to grow.

And over time, they do.

This rot starts small, almost imperceptibly.

It’s the voice that tells you to fit in, to follow the rules, to do what’s expected.

It’s the habit of conforming, the comfort of staying within the lines drawn by others.

Slowly, this rot spreads, creeping through the foundation of your identity, like mold growing in the dark, unseen, but steadily consuming everything in its path.

You find yourself in a relationship where you’re treated like you’re nothing, but you stay, because leaving would mean facing the unknown.

The social norms that were supposed to guide you are now chains, trapping you in a life that’s not truly yours.

You’re unhappy, unsatisfied, but you keep going, following a path that’s been laid out for you, a path that doesn’t lead to fulfillment but to a slow, creeping decay.

Do you think you’re a rebel just because you put things in your ass? Is that what makes you feel daring? Does indulging in your sexual fetishes give you a sense of identity or excitement? Are you convinced that your kinks make you unique or special?

Sorry to break it to you, but it doesn’t make you a special snowflake.

Look lets’ talk about men first.

As men cross the age of 40, the signs of this rot start to show more clearly.

The body begins to betray you: joints ache, muscles lose their firmness, and energy levels plummet.

You look in the mirror and see the weight you’re carrying — not just physical weight, but the weight of years spent living a life that doesn’t feel right.

Sexual performance and desire become sources of anxiety, as if your very vitality is slipping away. You fear that your best days are behind you, that intimacy will never be what it once was.

Then there’s the career that once might have seemed promising but now feels like a dead end.

You’re stuck in a job that pays the bills but does nothing to ignite your passion.

You yearn for change, for something more, but the rot of fear and comfort holds you back, leaving you feeling restless and trapped.

Family responsibilities add to the weight, pressing down on you like a heavy burden.

You try to be the good husband, the strong father, the reliable provider, even when every part of you is screaming for something different.

You’ve lost touch with who you really are, buried under layers of societal expectations and the roles you’ve been playing for so long.

You look back and realize that there’s a disconnect between the life you’re living and the life you actually want, but the rot has made it hard to see a way out.

Health concerns begin to loom larger, a stark reminder that time is not on your side.

The risk of heart disease, diabetes, and other issues becomes more real, more pressing, and you start to feel the creeping dread of your own mortality.

Friendships fade, leaving you feeling isolated, craving deeper connections but finding them harder and harder to come by.

Anxiety, depression, and stress settle in like unwelcome guests, gnawing at your peace of mind, making each day feel like a struggle.

And then there are the dreams — the unfulfilled dreams that linger at the edges of your consciousness, haunting you with what could have been.

You mourn the life you wanted to live, the things you wanted to achieve but never did.

You feel the weight of all that you haven’t accomplished, the sense of regret and loss that seems to grow heavier with each passing year.

This is the rot — slow, creeping, and relentless, eating away at your spirit until there’s nothing left but the hollow shell of what might have been.

It’s a death by a thousand cuts, a slow fade into a life that feels meaningless and unfulfilled.

But it doesn’t have to be this way.

You don’t have to let the rot take over.

You don’t have to stay in a relationship that makes you feel like you’re nothing, or in a life that drains the very essence of who you are.

The first step to change is recognizing these patterns, feeling the rot for what it is, and deciding to break free from the boundaries of those suffocating social norms.

Who are you? Are you the man who lets the rot consume him, or are you the man who decides to take a stand, to strip away the decay, and reclaim his life? Who are you?

Ask yourself again and again, until you find the courage to face the answer. Who are you?

Only you can decide.

Only you can make the choice to live a life that’s truly your own, free from the rot, vibrant and filled with purpose. Who are you?
It’s time to find out.

If you let the rot stay, it will slowly consume every part of you.

It starts small, a creeping numbness that you hardly notice, but over time, it spreads like a disease, draining your energy, dulling your passions, and clouding your sense of purpose.

The things that once brought you joy become hollow, and your days are filled with a heavy, oppressive monotony.

The rot eats away at your spirit, leaving you feeling disconnected from yourself and those around you.

It saps your strength, erodes your confidence, and traps you in a cycle of complacency and despair.

If left unchecked, the rot will hollow you out, leaving you empty, living a life that feels meaningless and unfulfilled.

What do you believe about yourself?

Who are you?

Doc