It pains me to write this, but I am miserable. I chose very poorly, and I knew during the engagement at times that I was unhappy, but was afraid to act on it for a host of cowardly reasons.
She is pregnant, and I am staying for the child’s sake. I sometimes think if anything happened to our child in utero, I would be free to leave her - and I hate myself for even thinking such a terrible thing. What kind of a father am I?
Where do I go from here? I’m in a marriage where I’m not respected; my wife comes from a family of women married to weak men they look down upon, and she is following suit. I am nagged constantly - any time I am not working she wants me to either spend time with her or do things around the house, the idea of taking 20 minutes to read the paper and relax has almost set off World War 3. My wife finds fault with everything I do (health habits, cleanliness of my study/our bedroom, my driving). She holds onto past hurts from some members of my family and refuses to let go of them, years later. She judges people for their positions on politics and religion and its impossible for her to grasp having a close friendship with someone you disagree with on those things. My nutty in-laws are in the next town over, and I am sick to death of seeing them all the time. I have gotten to the point where I feel like my libido is crushed; she mentions sex at the end of a long day where I have worked my butt off and all I truly wanna do is be left alone, and I agree to avoid an argument and quietly resent it.
I am miserable. I hate this life, I really do. Growing up, my mother said I was gonna make some lucky girl very happy someday. I know that’s probably something all mothers say to their sons, but I had hoped it was at least a little bit true. I don’t pretend I’m a stud, but I thought I deserved better than this. I try to imagine my life, and all I can see is me on my deathbed several decades from now, an old, broken man, grateful its gonna be over soon.
I don’t know why I’m writing this. I don’t know what anyone could say other than “you should get counseling”, and they’d be right. This may seem like some adolescent plea for attention. I don’t consciously mean it to be; if it is, I beg pardon for it. I guess I’m just tired of keeping it in. I don’t tell my parents the extent of my sadness because I’m afraid it will ruin their relationship with her. I don’t tell her in our arguments because some things you say and you can never unsay. I don’t mention it in confession because I’m too busy confessing my own sins and I’m afraid the priest will think I’m trying to justify or mitigate them.
Please pray for me. Thanks for listening.