if I was...

I feel horrible for admitting it, but most of the time I believe my husband would be better off if I was dead.
I don't know how many of our marital issues have to do with him being bipolar.  I accept the blame for much.  There are things we can't seem to work through.  He doesn't believe I'll ever change.  I try to change.  I don't know if he believes I try.  He doesn't believe it's possible for me to change.  I could go on and on but it doesn't matter to you, the reader.  You don't know me so it's impossible for you to analyze my situation without me giving you intimate details of the last 24+ years.

The fact is this.  I find myself wishing I could contract a life threatening illness and die.  Cancer, a brain tumor....something quick.  A chance to say good bye to my children.  A chance for my husband to be the noble husband and show his devotion.  Then it would end.  The kids would go on.  He would go on.  They would be better off because they'd be free of the fears of us imploding.

I sometimes wish I'd be hit by a car and instantly gone.  But it would be better to say good bye.  It would be better for it to be no fault of my own or anyone else's.  Suicide is something I could never do.  The people I love the most would blame themselves and question.  Or blame each other which would be horrible.

The trouble with the illness issue is I'm extremely healthy physically.  I'm middle aged and have no signs of any serious problems.  I realize that could change overnight.  I doubt it will.  I've always felt I'll live to be near 90.  I come from a family of long living women.

Truthfully, I adore my husband.  I love him completely.  I don't think he believes that.  He thinks I love the security of having him around.  That I love what he provides.  I don't know how to prove to him that's not the case.  It's an extremely difficult place to be.