I can never seem to get it together.  One stupid mistake has made my week a living hell and activated my ocd and anxiety to extreme levels.  I broke a part in my oven and lied to my landlord about it because I knew the repair would be around $200 and my husband would flip.  Now when the repairman comes I know he is going to be able to tell it is not a part that broke on its own.  I feel awful for lying and know it is so very wrong.  We have very little money and I don’t know what else to do.  To top it off my husband is now saying I screwed up really badly and I don’t think things through.  It was an honest mistake.  The problem is I made it dishonest.  It is tearing me up inside.  I can’t eat or sleep.

I should be happy.  Christmas is my favorite holiday.  Instead, everyone is stressing me out and my husband is a grump about it.  He doesn’t understand me at all.  He doesn’t understand bipolar, ocd or anxiety.  He thinks it is all made up and I should be able to just suck it up and stop being dramatic.  I can never do anything right.  He doesn’t like what I cook so I stopped making him dinner at all and he pouts like a baby.  All he wants his sex and I don’t want to be touched.  It doesn’t help that he is obese and does nothing about it except make empty promises.  I don’t need perfect.  I certainly not near perfect, but I believe in taking care of my body.  Exercising and healthy eating are a high priority for me.  The main reason I married him is because he has a full time job.  Not even a great paying one.  But since I lost my good paying full time marketing job in 2009 I never found another like it, or even close to it.  I work part-time at a crappy little place.  It is depressing.  I don’t make enough to be independent.  I miss that.  When I was alone all I wanted was to be married and now that I am I long for freedom.  So many things about him drive me crazy.  There are some good things, things I love and cherish, but I don’t know if we are soul mates.

Gotta go, he is getting pissy I am not downstairs with him.  I hate my life.  I hate it so much.  I have suffered and been in pain since my early teens.  I am 36.  I attempted suicide three times, but after failing so many times I am afraid of having to deal with the aftermath of another failed suicide so now I just wait and pray to die.