I have a s***** life, s***** relationship, s***** existence. I fantasize about dying constantly. I don’t want to die, I just want to stop being so miserable.

I am not allowed to talk about any of it other than the therapist who thinks I am lying to get medication. Wow, you are denying me the medication I was on for four years to great effect and am still miserable. Well done. Husband makes my life a silent, self-blaming hellhole if I vent to anyone. I never wanted kids, am not a kid person and despite my best efforts I always know that our daughter deserves better. I can’t live near my family because husband’s family lives elsewhere and gods forbid he have to miss out on his watching movies with his dad sometimes. Still no job responses. Using up my school grants. Not allowed any hobbies because as soon as I like something it is taken away, either by some unrelated event, jealous husband or needy kid. I clean, clean, clean so that people can disregard my effort and do none themselves. I don’t know what’s real, am afraid of people, hate every second of existence, hate myself…

I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t help myself and no one else cares.

Today we went out to a store to get materials for a costume about which I am excited. I am going to make coordinating costumes for all of us. Sewing is a good hobby right? I was so excited.

We are out of town and I have trouble finding the store. Therefore I am belittled then given the silent treatment. Still, no real anger so things are going okay. Husband walks into the wrong store with kid (stripmall) so I stop and wait for him to realize that the wrong sign is on the door before saying something when he doesn’t. He belittles me for not telling him it was the wrong store before he walked in. Does that make sense? I try to defend myself. I am so tired of this. I tell him not to talk to me. He says he is going to wait in the car. Fine. So he follows us into the next store and I have to tell him four times that it is still the wrong store, my mistake. It is now my fault that I mumble. He is the only person who doesn’t hear me. Everyone else around looked up when I talked. We finally find the right store, they don’t have what we need, kid starts throwing a fit. This is when I find out that he let her leave the house with no diaper. This is now my fault, as he TOLD me that she had no clean diapers on the table. Yes, but I didn’t think that meant he wouldn’t bother finding the clean ones in her diaper bag. Am I crazy? This all sounds abusive doesn’t it? Yet I don’t usually find myself thinking so. It’s just the way things are. I deserve it. I don’t know what to think or feel anymore. Nothing is real and I just want to go to sleep and not wake up.