When his mother died, he didn’t know what to feel, grief or relief. A life of luxury, adventure and parties, endless parties with high end booze and drugs, now no more. Part of him felt lost, part of him felt liberated, from all the powerful, wealthy and filthy men, there was also this remaining part felt angry which was suppressed by numbness.
How do you suppose to feel that the woman who raised you was also the pimp, died before you could get an answer out of her, why did she hate you so much to do unspeakable things to you from a young age. The mother and son relationship was emotionless, copy and paste, repeatedly being showered with affections then thrown into another perpetrator’s den to endure the rejection.
His mother died, and his breakdown and healing have just begun.