Just Another...

I'm just another blogger, who needs a place to vent. I toy with the idea of suicide, the way that a cat toys with a mouse when it's not quite hungry. I think about different ways of doing it, trying on this one and that one for size. See the cat lift it's paw, teasing the mouse with the possibility of freedom, just to take it away again with the smack of a velvety paw. I'm not truly suicidal. I just have thoughts of suicide. The release. The freedom. Then reality comes and slams me back to earth. I have a son. A husband in a nursing home. A job. Responsibilities. Bills to pay. For me thinking about suicide is like trying to decide between cheesecake and the molten lava cake, when you know that you're not going to eat either. Just another way to torture myself with thoughts of ending all the stress and pain that are frequently what makes up my existence. And thus, this blog. I haven't any friends. Doesn't that sound like such a proper sentence. No double negatives. Just a simple statement. I work from home, I live in a very small town. I don't seem to have anything in common with the people around me. I do try to socialize. I greet people when I go to get my mail. I chat with people at the convenience store. I make small talk when I go to pay my rent. I haven't always been friendless. I used to a large circle of friends. Then I moved 2000 miles away, and it's almost impossible to keep long distance friendships alive for any significant period of time. Even my staunchest friend dumped me in such a slow manner that it was imperceptible to me when the friendship ended. I have a son. He's an amazing boy. He's insightful, thoughtful, bright, and I don't want to dump all of my stress on him. I also have the afore-mentioned husband, but he had a stroke, and is in a nursing facility trying to recover enough to return home. I certainly don't want to stress him out, so I don't tell him about the bills that are piling up, the insurance money that's gone without anymore to come, the hit that our budget has taken by having our income reduced by half. How can I share these worries with him, when it's these types of things that contributed to his stroke. So I hold it all in, and smile, and assure him that I'm okay, and that we're fine and that we have plenty of money. Then I have days like yesterday. I had to call the cell phone company and explain why I couldn't pay my bill. Talking about my husband and our situation brought me to tears. Tears that continued on and off all day. Finally coming to an end around five this morning when I finally fell into an all-too-short sleep. So maybe having a place to vent my feelings will help.