Well, shit.

I learned some things today. Things that might offer me a chance at a better life. As long as I'm willing to do nothing with it.

The situation itself is ironic, but it's the meta-irony that's delicious. I found the information while looking up the lethal dose of a substance I have easily at hand. The side effects of a toxic dose are what matter. You could end it all with acetaminophen easily enough. But days of suffering, waiting for liver failure to become lethal, are an unpleasant contemplation. Especially for someone already pushing the envelope of sanity.

Damn sense of self-preservation.

So there could be a reasonable end to the pain. Mental clarity and reduced anxiety come at no extra charge. I'm not sure that's a good thing. Am I losing it because of the anxiety? Maybe things will be better further on. Unless the anxiety's not the thing. I have moments of sharpness and clarity still. I dread them. I am alone in circumstances that are destroying me. This avenue offers no escape, requires that I remain.

Should I stay the course? That's what I've always done before. And I regret every crossroads I have passed unexplored. Might one of them have led to a better place?

I gave my all for God and Family. God was a lie. I gave up health and happiness for the Church. In casting it aside, I gained new life. But I failed to purge the old. All those choices made to serve the illusion remain with me. I tried to justify them. My arguments were convincing. Perhaps I should have cast it all aside and started over.

Twelve years we've been together. More than eleven as a married couple. All that time she tried to be something she was not. I can't blame her for that. I can't hate her. Knowing the truth, I cannot ask her to keep trying. But where does that leave me? Bound still by law and by children, I can't escape. I have no friends or family to whom I might turn. I have no skills I can apply. I lack the physical capacity to support myself for any length of time. But I can't stay here.

For twelve years I remade myself time an again. Trying to be what she needed. I know now that I cannot be. But for twelve years I have been rebuffed. For twelve years I have taken daily lessons in my inferiority. I don't have the confidence to find someone new. Nor the circumstances. Who would willingly pick up a role in this mess? I can't even find a one-night stand. And that could never be enough. To steal a line - I need to love and be loved in return.

After twelve years, she wants us to be friends. She has never loved me as I have her. She never could. She didn't mean to, but she broke my heart. And what's left of it is supposed now to live with her and raise her children. Having no means or heart to seek something better, I am supposed to settle for the illusion of her consent to an open marriage. I am her best friend. She is my only friend. I am supposed to be there for her now as she hurts and grieves. But I can't even speak my heart. She can't listen, because it's about her. She offers me no comfort, then needs comforting from the pain of my words. I don't accuse. I don't rebuke. I don't even blame. But she cannot abide my hurt. So I keep it to myself and try to ease her pains, instead.

I'm still not good enough.

Best one yet...

We break a lot of plates and bowls around here.

Lime on Toast