Diary of an Oxygen Thief

1. A History of Deliberate Emotional Cruelty

I liked hurting girls.

Enjoying the pain. The narrator confesses to deriving pleasure from emotionally hurting women, waiting until they were deeply in love before inflicting pain. He saw it as a legal way to destroy their souls, feeling no remorse or regret for his actions. This behavior was a central part of his life before sobriety.

Seeking the moment. His goal wasn't sex or conquest, but the shock and glaze in their eyes when they realized the depth of his cruelty. He meticulously cultivated relationships, encouraging confidences and intimacy, using these moments as fuel for the eventual destruction. He viewed it as a sophisticated game, a mission to be unkind to womankind.

Hurt people hurt. Reflecting later, he understands this cruelty stemmed from his own pain, a twisted form of communication. He admits that even after stopping, he missed the act of hurting others, suggesting the underlying impulse remained, though no longer systematically acted upon.

2. Alcoholism, Recovery, and Isolation

I think I always knew deep down I had a drinking problem.

Drinking for effect. The narrator drank heavily, purely for the effect, often getting into trouble due to his aggressive behavior while intoxicated. His drinking escalated to a full-time occupation, leading to dangerous situations and a welcome embrace of self-destruction. He saw it as a way to feel something through numbness.

Five years of celibacy. After hitting bottom, he entered Alcoholics Anonymous and committed to sobriety, which included abstaining from relationships with women for over five years. This period coincided with significant career success in advertising, a world he found boozy but where his freelance status allowed some independence. Sobriety was a new lease on life he felt compelled to use.

Guilt and fear. Years of carrying guilt from his past actions made him afraid to interact with women, fearing they would see through him. His long period of celibacy was a consequence of this fear and his commitment to recovery, a stark contrast to his previous predatory behavior.

3. Exile in the Midwestern Tundra

Moving from London to St Lacroix was more of a shock than moving back to Ireland would have been.

A career move. After growing bored and resentful of his creative partner in London, the narrator accepted a lucrative job offer from a renowned advertising agency in St. Lacroix, Minnesota. The move was partly an escape from London and a fear of his own violent impulses towards his colleague. He saw it as a chance for something new and a validation of his talent.

Cultural shock. Despite the professional opportunity (a high salary, a Victorian house), he found St. Lacroix culturally isolating and alienating. The flatness of the landscape, the extreme cold, and the perceived blandness and forced niceness of the people contrasted sharply with the urban intensity he was used to. He felt like he had landed on the moon.

Enduring the environment. He struggled with the harsh winters and the social environment, finding solace only in his AA meetings, imported European media, and masturbation. He viewed the place as "Hell in reverse," a sterile, cold environment that assaulted his senses and encouraged a conspiratorial sloth. He felt miscast in his own life there.

4. Paranoia and the Search for Meaning

I'm completely paranoid.

Deep-seated suspicion. The narrator admits to severe paranoia, believing ordinary people were operatives sent to disrupt him psychologically. This extended to his professional life, where he suspected his company was manipulating him and his personal life, where he fantasized about past victims orchestrating accidents. He saw suspicion as his default state.

Homemade unhappiness. He acknowledges that much of his unhappiness in Minnesota was self-inflicted, fueled by his paranoia and inability to trust. He struggled to accept the apparent good intentions of others, viewing everything through a lens of potential manipulation or hidden agenda. This internal state made external challenges feel insurmountable.

Seeking symmetry. He writes this account partly as therapy, a way to process his experiences and perhaps write the sickness out of himself. He is less interested in seeking sympathy than in finding symmetry, believing that justice was served when he experienced pain similar to what he inflicted, only worse because it happened to him.

5. The Arrival of the "Virgin Mary"

I swear to you that she looked just like the pictures of the Virgin Mary in Irish Catholic homes.

A fateful encounter. While on a work trip to New York from Minnesota, the narrator met Aisling, a young Irish photographic assistant with connections to his hometown and family financial advisor. He was instantly captivated by her beauty, innocence, and Irishness, seeing her as a potential escape from his miserable life in St. Lacroix. He was ripe for infatuation after years of celibacy.

A gift from the dead? He immediately projected immense significance onto their meeting, interpreting it as a gift from his recently deceased father, sent to compensate him for his suffering in Minnesota. This romanticized and paranoid interpretation set the stage for his intense emotional investment and subsequent downfall. He allowed this belief to override any caution.

Falling completely. Despite his initial perception of her as young and innocent, he quickly realized she was intelligent and sophisticated. He fell totally and irrevocably in love during their first dinner, captivated by her demeanor, appearance, and the attention she gave him. He felt she knew how to handle a man, making him feel seen and accepted.

6. A Fateful Meeting in Dublin

I didn't tell her I'd booked the hotel.

Anticipating connection. After their initial meeting in New York, the narrator eagerly anticipated seeing Aisling again when they were both home in Ireland for Christmas. He booked an expensive hotel room in Dublin, hoping to recreate their intimate first night and solidify their burgeoning relationship. He was deeply invested, seeing her as his girlfriend despite the ambiguity.

Disappointment and denial. His hopes were dashed when Aisling seemed distant and unavailable, eventually declining his invitation to meet on New Year's Eve and the following night. He hid his disappointment, rationalizing her behavior, but the rejection was deeply painful, highlighting the disparity in their feelings and his own vulnerability. He paid a high price for his unexpressed hopes.

Ignoring red flags. Despite the clear signs of her lack of reciprocal interest and the financial cost of his unfulfilled plans, he clung to the idea of their connection. He returned to Minnesota heartbroken but still fixated on her, seeing her as the only thing that made his life bearable and the key to his escape.

7. The Calculated Setup in New York

"You'll remember it after tonight."

Escape to New York. Driven by his desire to be near Aisling and his desperation to leave Minnesota, the narrator engineered a transfer to the New York office of his advertising agency. He leveraged his position and hinted at resignation, forcing his boss's hand. He arrived in New York believing he was finally moving towards a life with her.

An unsettling encounter. Their first meeting in New York after his move, at Fanelli's bar, was immediately unsettling. Aisling's cold demeanor and cryptic remark ("You'll remember it after tonight") signaled that the evening would not be the romantic reunion he envisioned. He sensed a pre-arranged structure and felt like he was being interrogated.

The first flash. The appearance of a photographer at an adjacent table, who took a picture of him at a moment of emotional discomfort, felt deliberate and unnerving. This incident, combined with Aisling's controlled behavior and pointed questions, solidified his growing suspicion that this encounter was not random but part of a planned event.

8. The Public Dismantling

"I. Don't. Think. So."

The rejection delivered. Aisling systematically dismantled his hopes for a relationship, clearly stating she was not looking for one. She offered friendship instead, a role he found humiliating. Her calm, controlled delivery of this rejection, coupled with her apparent enjoyment of his discomfort, was devastating. He felt murdered, but bandaged immediately after.

Photographic evidence. Throughout their subsequent meetings, including lunch and her exhibition opening, camera flashes from seemingly random sources captured his reactions. These incidents, combined with Aisling's pointed remarks and the presence of her friends who seemed aware of the situation, reinforced his belief that his emotional state was being documented. He felt his pain was being collected.

A calculated performance. He interpreted Aisling's actions, from her initial seduction to her public rejection and the accompanying photography, as a deliberate performance. Her discipline and lack of apparent passion during these moments suggested a professional motive, leading him to believe he was a subject in a larger project rather than a participant in a genuine emotional exchange.

9. Theories of Orchestrated Revenge

My money is neatly spread over the area of Theories One and Two, with most of it on Two.

The agency conspiracy. One theory the narrator entertains is that his advertising agency, unhappy about his departure from Minnesota, conspired with Aisling to ruin him emotionally. He speculates that her quick success in New York photography after meeting him supports this idea, suggesting she was rewarded for her role in his downfall. He saw his workplace as a "fucking weird place."

The art project. His favored theory is that Aisling, working with friends in publishing, used him as a subject for a photo-essay book about "True Romance," documenting the beginning and end of relationships. The staged photos and her need to capture his emotional reactions fit this narrative, explaining her calculated behavior and the presence of photographers. He believed she needed his anguish for her art.

Randomness rejected. He dismisses the idea that everything was random, finding it "unthinkable." His paranoia and need for symmetry compel him to believe there was a deliberate plan behind his suffering. He prefers the idea of being a victim of a sophisticated plot rather than simply experiencing the unpredictable nature of life and relationships.

10. The Enduring Scars

These pages are the nearest I will ever get to evening up the effects of that evening in March.

Lingering pain and rage. The emotional damage inflicted by Aisling was profound and lasting, leaving him thin with rage and struggling to process what happened. He describes the pain as physical, an "abstract blade" causing a "broken heart" that felt more like alcoholism without the alcohol. He was left in tatters.

Writing as catharsis. This diary serves as his attempt at therapy and revenge, a way to finally articulate his experience and perhaps find closure. By writing it down, he hopes to deal with the events and potentially warn others, although he acknowledges the possibility that his interpretation is skewed by his paranoia. He seeks symmetry for his suffering.

A changed man. The experience, coupled with his past and sobriety journey, has shaped him. He now lives in New York, finding some happiness, but the scars remain. He reflects on his own history of causing pain and sees his encounter with Aisling as a form of comeuppance, a brutal lesson in the consequences of emotional cruelty.

Last updated: May 12, 2025