The Truth About My Marriage.

The possibility of a large amount of money entering my life came up recently. How much, I don't know. But. My first thought? If it were enough to get away from here, what would I take with me? And I started making a mental list.

Both cats.
Laptop.
Clothes/shoes.
DVD's.
Some books.
My Jim Shore ornaments.
My bed. I love my bed. I brought it to the relationship although we bought a new mattress together. But I could walk away from it if I had to.

And I could just walk away with those few things. And I know where I would go. To stay, permanently.

I just discovered that my husband has an e-mail I didn't know about. And he denies it. His name is unusual. How many people could there be in this medium-size town with that name? I'm thinking only one.

I put up with a lot of shit with my husband. He's kind, thoughtful, and a good listener. He's not judgmental. He fills an emotional need in me by allowing to be myself and speak my mind. He's handsome and unchallenging, sexually, which I like. I tired of freaks in the bedroom years ago. And I no longer care if I can drive a man wild in bed.

And.

He is a fuckup. He cannot hold a job, and hasn't had a permanent job since I've known him. We have highs and lows, financially. Of course I haven't worked much myself in the last five years, and now I don't feel capable of doing that. I'm seriously considering going on disability.

I was willing to put up with his up-fuckery for the sake of the fulfillment of my emotional needs. Now I'm not so sure.

He also breaks things. He doesn't mean to, but it finally dawned on me the other day that he is not aware of his surroundings. When driving, he doesn't notice the most obvious things--like dead animals in the road (he drives right over them); parking spaces (he circles the lot until he finds one as far from the door as possible); gas stations, too; signs; things in the sky; jaywalkers--he just lives in his mind so much. He is on the autism spectrum so intellectually I know he can't help it, but realistically it makes him very hard to deal with. And so he breaks things because he is not fully present most of the time.

I'm so sad all the time. I feel like....I feel as if I've lived my life, I'm done. There is nothing more I want to do. Or am capable of doing. I feel like I'm waiting to die. I feel like everything I do now, I have to fake, emotionally. I feel shut down, closed down, emotionless. One day blurs into the next.

I'm so unhappy. But I don't have the energy or the interest to fix it. I just don't care. I can't even decide if I want to stay in or end my marriage.

I haven't had use of my computer much the last few weeks because he was using it. His won't connect to the wifi here. Normally I wouldn't let him touch my computer (due to breaking shite and also being ultra-nosey, busting into my emails), but I had reconciled myself to being attached to him, warts and all, and so I wasn't really able to blog due to lack of access and just not thinking real clearly, either.