I’ve fallen and I can’t get up.

Over the last 3 or 4 years, I have been sinking further into despair. I am now at a point where I am ready to exit. The times I have been most at peace over the last few years have generally been when I have been sleeping; I figure that a sleep where I never wake up would be a good thing. I know this might sound like a First World Problem, but my descent began when I got made redundant during the GFC. Since then, I have had to take jobs that have paid less, and also had to use up all of my savings during two long periods of unemployment. 

My current job is doing my head in: I feel incredibly isolated and my confidence is at an all time low due to some significant setbacks and being hamstrung by ‘committee thinking’ from my peers and superiors. I have a crippling mortgage and a wife that has no concept of how money works. I have had periods of working two crappy jobs whilst my wife’s boss is practically begging her to take on a full-time management role and a significant pay increase (more than enough to cover our pre-GFC lifestyle she is not willing to give up), yet she continually refuses.

I am married but no longer in love with the woman I married. I still love her as a person and would not want to hurt her, and I still find her physically attractive.  However, she has never been good at physically demonstrating her feelings, and she has only gotten worse as the years wore on.  Even extracting a simple kiss beyond a quick peck on the cheek is impossible.  I used to express my feelings for her physically, but then I pretty much gave up. This allowed feelings for another woman to sneak into my life. Someone for whom I still have intense feelings, and she had intense feelings for me. However, out of a sense of duty, I’ve put a stop to that relationship.  I cannot leave my wife. Not unless I leave in a body bag, anyway. 

If I was better at my old pre-GFC job, if I’d studied harder at school, if I’d been true to myself instead of being pulled along by others, I wouldn’t be in this mess. I wouldn’t be so useless. If I was capable of actually standing up and saying what I want rather than just either letting stuff wash over me or letting my true feelings ooze out like a leak in a rusty old drum of passive-aggression, then it wouldn’t be so bad.

It is now at a point where I think my only way forward is the exit. I can’t afford to leave, but I can’t afford to stay.