I can’t do it anymore. I would like to thank those of you that reached out to me, and tried to help. You did help, you made me feel better. But it doesn’t last. “He” does his work again. My husband. He’s supposed to be my best friend, not my worst enemy. I’m tired. I survived my Mother’s beatings. Even to the point of being hospitalized. I survived her anger and hatred. I survived my dad’s molesting me. I learned not to sleep too soundly, so I wouldn’t wake up with his hands where they shouldn’t be. I survived my first husband’s being a criminal. I survived when he skipped the country to avoid prosecution, and I had to clear my own name, and prove that I didn’t know what he was doing. I survived having a serious illness my whole life. But God, I’m tired. I just can’t fight anymore. I’ve begged my husband to let me go in peace, but he won’t. The last thread I had to this life was my son. Tonight I told him I needed to be alone at this point in my life, and I pushed him away. He looked so hurt. I don’t want to hurt him. He’s the last person I want to hurt. But I’m such a f’ing mess. I can’t think anymore. I don’t want to think anymore. I don’t want to feel anymore. I don’t want to be anymore. I’ve had my “plans” for a long time now. Time I got some spine and just did it. I hope there’s some peace after death, because there sure wasn’t any during life. I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.