It’s not rocket science that getting cheated on sucks big time. Worse, if your cheat is also gas-lighting you and is a narcissist. This is enough to give anyone toxic shock syndrome to say the truth.

There should be a unit in hospitals for people who get cheated on, and those who get all I’ve mentioned above done to them, not leaving behind victims of both physical and verbal abuse.

Damn, where did we go so wrong as a species?

Without further ado, here’s my analysis of what happens to you when you get cheated on several times; a breakdown of a suffering which I call ‘SCD’ i.e. Severe Cheat Disorder.


I would be lying if I said that I have always been a sunny ray of a girl, but I was not this dark. After the first occurrence of cheating I got in a really bad way, plain depression. I would forget simple things and had a hell of a time performing the simplest of tasks.

To say I was preoccupied is a gross understatement, and it is by the grace of our Creator that I did a halfway decent job of getting by. I was in a constant state of panic, anxiety, and paranoia; where is he? What is he doing? Did he go back to meet her? Is he thinking of me? Did he ever love me? What could I have done differently to prevent this? Was it my fault? etc, etc,  and it never stopped, not even when he was right there next to me.

My mind was so crowded with these and more nonsense thoughts that I had no more room for creativity; songs I composed effortlessly were now a heavy chore; words I wrote into poems were jumbled and it was a pain to bring them to rhyme and the fabric I had bought by the yard now lay mildewing in my wardrobe.

I lost track of humor and sarcasm and pretty much everything said to me was an attack which brought out the combatant in me. I alternated between confusion and bitterness, assurance of doom and hopelessness all day, every day.

What did she have that I did not? Was he thinking of me while he was with her? Could I ever forgive him? Did I even want to? Did she know about me and how did she see me; as broken as I saw myself, or stupid, or both? It was a full-time job with no pay, and it started to show.


I started to have messy eating-habits, sometimes eating too much in an absent-minded state, or not eating at all. There was no order or organization to my diet plans, just anything edible would find its way into my mouth. Coupled with the lack of support from him as when I baked it was too soggy and when I fried it was too salty and nothing was ever done right by him, I lost interest in cooking, just threw things together and put them on the cooker to get it over with.

Fine little wrinkles appeared on my face from dehydration and I wondered if I had always had dark circles under my eyes.

It was hell.

My skin got dry and flaky; lost its natural glow and felt itchy too, with proper moisturization just out of reach for me because I couldn’t or wouldn’t do anything to fix it. I was so damn tired all the time and my body hurtkinda like it does when you have malaria, or maybe I did, I honestly don’t know. I just wished for strength to carry on.

I needed serious strength to smile and laugh and generally be around people without letting the vortex inside me suck all the light and love from their midst and I could rarely summon it so I chose to keep to myself as it was easier that way.


Was there really a God out there and if so why did he let things like these happen? But that was unfair, no third-party should be blamed for the wrongdoings of any one individual, no matter how closely aligned they are to each other. I did not see the point of going to church for things like giving thanks or being grateful-for what?

It would have been a gift to sleep and not wake up, and I am sad to admit that I thought of suicide for a while. I felt that I owed it to my family to hang in there for another day, sometimes it almost made me forget the emptiness inside me.

It felt like an insurmountable task to feed my soul with healthy habits like meditation, reading, and exercise. Reminded me of that old blue song whose lyrics went something like ‘why does the sun go on shining, why does the sea rush to shore, don’t they know it’s the end of the world, for you don’t love me anymore……’ and I felt it on a spiritual level.


I was stressed out and my trust levels in him plummeted. I could hardly trust him after the first time, and after the second time I had negative trust left in him if that was possible. He was a literal green snake in the grass and I wondered why it took so long for me to see his true from.

I felt bitter towards him, and started to see him and his friends as one large cartel of shitheads (which most of them act like anyway haha).

The loathing spread to his family and I would draw connections between all their bad habits then damn them collectively because, well, the same dirty, cheating blood flowed through all of their veins.

It did not matter that I wanted to forgive and make things work for the sake of our relationship; I was just on a level of irrevocable anger, even when I had no reason to be.

The plus side is that I developed an a-hole radar, and can now tell from a guy’s words and actions whether he was any good or just along for the ride, and I hope this saves me the heartache next time.

It was a tough trip for me because even after I caught him the second time and he confessed and swore that he had called it off, the affair still went on for close to a year, with me all the while being silly thinking it was over for real and going through life as normal; going home to visit my mum and visit friends and stay for a few days etc, to which he had no objection whatsoever. It would seem that the good old proverb against confidence tricks works for relationships as well; “when the deal is too good think twice”, because love is after all the ripest field for cons of all natures.

No matter how strong, independent, good-looking, wealthy, healthy, intelligent, or anything else you are, getting cheated on is something no one should have to go through because the implications of it can easily last for a lifetime. And no one is above it, so don’t ever think that your money, intelligence, fire waist, good looks, empathy, cooking skills, or heart of gold will save you from the wrath of a cheat because a cheat is a cheat is a cheat.

For most people, the details are hazy and cloudy at best for memories of their first kiss, their proposal, or even their first born’s births, but ask them about a time they got cheated on and you will be equal parts shocked and dismayed at how much detail they can remember surrounding their discovery of the affair. The human brain is simply that; human, and it will emboss on your brain the things that hurt you the most while it blurs the best as if to protect them from being over-scrutinized and consequently ruined.

The moral is simple. DO. NOT. CHEAT. , no matter the reason or the occasion, just don’t do it, because you will succeed in one thing and that is to tie yourself to the worst part of the worst memory of the person you cheat on. If you have desires they cannot satisfy or you just don’t love them anymore, do the sensible and grown-up thing, and leave.