Just a “Nobody”

I half want to write this – and half, don’t give a darn.

I am an old hag – 45 – married for the second time and sometime in the past few years, “something” has happened and he is now so distant I am gobsmacked.

I have no family or friends and I take antidepressants and all that – doesn’t seem to help.

I had 2 lots of brain surgery a year ago, and he even managed to pick a fight with me on the day I came home. He has no concept of what I went through, and he doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to talk to the docs and get an idea of the horror, and he won’t look at internet pics I find. I had to drop out of the very last 2 topics of my degree cos I suddenly was diagnosed with this brain thing. He has no concept how   much this hurts – I had to struggle and struggle to get into that course — with 7 kids from my first marriage, and getting married at 16 so missing out on the teenage part of life and traditional education.

Also – he is 63. Who’s going to put food on the table if I don’t get my degree and a decent job? Or am I doomed to waitress, pump gas, and clean toilets?

I love him but I can’t take the hurt anymore. We were lying in bed (it was Sunday morning here) – and I said “If you had a magic wand – forget about finances, work, kids etc…..where would you be right now?”

I was thinking  – in a bathing suit, softly floating draped skirt, lovely drink in hand, and strolling in the tepid water as I walked towards the inviting shade of a large palm tree.

He said

……..  THE CEMETARY.

I was taken aback so gently asked things like was he there visiting someone ? Chacking out a plot….no one wants to talk about it but I thought, well, maybe that was it.

No. He wanted to be at the cemetary – so he never has to wake up again.

I asked him if he was depressed, and in quite a chipper voice he said “oh no, I’m OK”. And a similar answer about suicide – he figures we’ll all die sometime and he’s happy to wait – miserable and feeling trapped and a whole heap of other things he hs said – til he kicks the bucket.

This is incredibly weird to me. And I should not have asked – but I did: on a hypothetical “Happiness Scale” where 10 = super happy, 1 = forget it – you lose – you couldn’t make an ant happy if you were covered in honey and lay near its nest.

So guess what score I got – a zero (O)……wonderful.

I reversed the question…..a sadness scale, with 10 being he wants to scratch out his eyeballs and drink lethal cocktails til he’s dead, and zero being he is over-the-top-happy and just wanted to be with me – that would be all he needed to be happy.

Laugh (or cry) now. He gave me a 10.

I am so sad, it rips at my gut. I feel like a nobody – who cares? I am numb and sad. I can’t drive cos of the narcs I’m on, but he went out so I asked him to get me a bottle of rum….. and I never, ever drink.

I know I am spinning that gun barrel. I know it’s just a matter of time before I get the loaded chamber.