fbpx

MORE BETRAYAL

MORE BETRAYAL

Even listening to “The Chain”couldn’t fix my hurting; neither could Stevie Nicks’s “Edge of Seventeen,” but I played them nonstop driving to and from my friend’s house with Shagwell. Sadly, for me, there would be even more heartache ahead.

As, if Mcdaggot’s act of betrayal wasn’t bad enough, my other friend Mcdaggot had to throw his hand in the pot by interrupting my game. Dorothea was at the house again. We were all sitting around and drinking heavily. Dorothea and I knew we couldn’t keep this up. This was going to be her last visit to the house for the semester—before the winter break, and London. This would be my last great offensive in the war for Dorothea’s heart.

Everyone, including my best friend McDaggot, seemed to be making more progress getting into bed with Dorothea than I was. That was until this weekend. We were drinking heavily my friends were getting more and more out of hand, and I could hear the loss of self-control in their voices. I was trying my best to capture Dorothea’s attention and keep her relatively focused on me, but that was quickly becoming impossible. People were getting quasi physical, if not sick, from drinking. I was determined not to end the night away from Dorothea on the floor crying.

To ensure this, I had arranged with Jonas, who was away on a rugby trip. I guided Dorothea, who said she needed to rest, around Shagwell’s inflatable bed into Jonas’s room. I put her in bed, and got into it with her. We cuddled for the first time. As time unfolded and I got an erection, I was too drunk to be shy about having her feel it.

 

We were moments away from having sex. I would beat out the ticking clock before her London trip and have sex before she left. Final victory I thought. But the other Mcdaggot had his own plans. As I pressed my erection against her, I heard a growing commotion in the living room.

“This is wrong!”

I heard the other Mcdaggot saying. I could hear arguing, laughing, and moving about. It got louder and louder. Before I knew it, the door to Jonas’s room was broken down, and Mcdaggot had gone through it head first. I lost my erection immediately. I was just holding Dorothea, furious. Game over, I thought.

J. Peters

J. Peters

Max Guttman '08, MSW '12, is the owner of Recovery Now, a private mental health practice. Through his work as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker, therapist and disability rights advocate, Max fights for those without a voice in various New York City care systems. He received a 2020 Bearcats of the Last Decade 10 Under 10 award from the Binghamton University Alumni Association. Guttman treats clients with anxiety and depression, but specializes in issues related to psychosis or schizoaffective spectrum disorders. He frequently writes on his lived experiences with schizophrenia. "I knew my illness was so complex that I’d need a professional understanding of its treatment to gain any real momentum in recovery," Guttman says. "After undergraduate school and the onset of my illness, I evaluated different graduate programs that could serve as a career and mechanism to guide and direct my self-care. After experiencing the helping hand of my social worker and therapist right after my 'break,' I chose social work education because of its robust skill set and foundation of knowledge I needed to heal and help others." "In a world of increasing tragedy, we should help people learn from our lived experiences. My experience brings humility, authenticity and candidness to my practice. People genuinely appreciate candidness when it comes to their health and recovery. Humility provides space for mistakes and appraisal of progress. I thank my lived experience for contributing to a more egalitarian therapeutic experience for my clients."
%d bloggers like this: