So this is how it ends
There's an above average chance that I don't last the next few weeks. My marriage is over, the counseling failed, my attempts at being a better spouse and adult failed, the disability is unequivocally worse, inactivity at an all time high, depression is off the charts, insane levels of depression. My personal counselor says I have PTSD stemming from finding out about the affair. It was jarring.
I am a certifiably suicidal.
I spent the end of Sunday night actively and very acutely replaying the suicide scene from The Fall in my mind, putting myself with a bag over my head and belt around my neck. Yesterday I looked around my closet for a belt that would work. Found a belt that wouldn't work and stopped.
She doesn't want to be married anymore. Why did she ever want to marry me in the first place? We were best as a couple of kids just fucking around with adulthood. Making it "official" changed many a perception. For her, that's when everything became too safe...
She's right that I trivialize her problems with my own. It's not something I try to do purposefully. Not usually. I can never the fuck just let someone go to town on telling me their problems without feeling like I have to add a quip about my own. I'm a fuck.
Fuck. How the fuck am I supposed to start over, tail between my legs back to Ottawa now? 10 years more broken, more weathered.
No matter what direction I look, every choice seems impossible. I'm weak and always tired and supposed to fucking hit reboot? I'd rather shut it down.