I didn't want to use the H word because... well i just didn't wanna, but i think that is the best description of the feelings I have towards my wife... i frickin H her.

This is gonna be long cause i have to get it out of my system before i splode into the stuff the universe was made from. So feel free to drop out right here if you don't plan to spend an hour watching someone vent.

So i hate my wife. Why you ask? (even if you didn't i'll tell ya anyways), well let me tell you!

OUR HISTORY! (long and boring no doubt)

First of all i never really "loved" her to begin with. Yes i was "in love" with her at some point. Which means what exactly? Racing hormones drowning out all common sense? Something like that i'm sure!

I met here when i was going through a bit of a rough patch. I was recovering from a life altering illness and trying to find my way back into the world of the living (essentially i was down and out for several years living like a hermit with very limited means and received family visitations... like i guess most inmates do... sorta).

She was like a bombshell, kind of socially awkward, but then I never won any prizes in the non-socially awkward Olympics so that was fine. Essentially staring at her butt for more than 2 seconds forced my brain to go to that special place where I'm guessing only men venture, that is full of nakedness, see-through, virgin white, sleeping garments and bodily fluids.

So yeah i was hooked. She was also kind of funny... in a very adolescent way, but yeah... hormones etc.

Some red flags started going up though, whenever i tried to have a reasonably mature conversation with her. But then those usually got interrupted with the onset of sweaty, passionate, nasty monkey lovin. So that was fine two!

A couple months into the relationship she had already thrown a few hissy fits and some really awkward emotional responses to every day things... so i was sort of planning my exit strategy.

Small detail; I knew her mother... who was now dying of a terminal illness. I made the mistake of informing her of our relationship troubles, and her reply was, and i quote "please give her another chance, you'll be all she has after i'm gone"....

Yeah so... I figured something like... OK well maybe she dealing with this now and it's upsetting her and she will come around to the place where normal people live after some much needed coping. I'll just give her some room and hope for the best then.

That lasted about 2 more months and then she told me she had a big surprise... in the oven... and no, it wasn't a pie, it was my son!!

So i'm like... WTF?! I thought we were like you know SAFE??!

Apparently her BC wasn't working right. She didn't feel it was at all suspicious that her period kept coming through though (found that out later, cause the story goes on, keep reading for more!).

And i know about the "don't be a fool, wrap your tool!", and i would, but she had "allergies" to rubbers, and the ones she could use were expensive and very awkward to use. So we decided to just do the blood-work thing instead.

Right so, back to bun in the oven land. My first instinct was "get rid of it!" but.... yeah. TBH, i don't know where i stand on that, still don't. I'd rather not. Especially after you've seen it on echo. There was just something in my head telling me not to. Besides she was pretty sure she wanted to have the baby, and i certainly wasn't crazy about abortion (though i DID still largely wanted to get away from her.)... so we had it!

He's 6 now btw, and he's a great kid. A few minor issues, but we're working on it, he'll be fine.

About 10 months later (seemed like 10 years for me) her mother died and we had a 2 month old son.

She collapsed, totally and utterly. I was now officially a single dad for all intents and purposes. Not only that but i had inherited a full grown, maladjusted daughter to boot. Honestly, i didn't even feel safe leaving her with our son to go to work. I was worried sick while i was at work. I called her every break i had only to met with the answering machine cause she was in bed passed out or worse.

My only solace was that our son was a very tight sleeper (during the day) and he didn't need much attention during the day.

After coming home to a filthy frickin house with a messed up kitchen and even more messed up bathroom for about a YEAR (how frickin hard is it to pick up a damn TOWEL after you're done with it, flush the toilet properly, dust off your breadcrumbs after you had a sandwich or even put the food BACK in the fridge... seriously. I understand the anguish of loss, but seriously, it is NOT that hard to pick up a towel!!) I got sick and tired of it and gave her the "get your ***** together or i'll be walking out of the carpenters hole in the wall STAT!" speech.

Her first reaction, not unsurprising, was of course to descend from planet "WTF" (where she spends most of her time), and go into an emotional torrent of "i'm the victim and you need to support me!" bullpoo, and essentially raising her voice to "did i just wake up the dead?" level.

So I mustered what self control i had to calmly produce the words "be that as it may, it is what it is, you will either pick yourself up or i will leave... period".

I repeated that for about a zillion times over the next couple of weeks. I endured her emotional torrent and adolescent attempts at emotional warfare like a rock breaking the tide. Ok i admit i raised my voice a couple times as well and at one point i even hit the bottle and then threw it against the wall furious... but i cleaned it up afterwards, apologized for my temper and made it very clear that it didn't change a thing, my ultimatum still stands. That last bit was necessary because she has an emotional weakness detector, CIA grade, and the special op handbook to exploiting emotional weakness.

Now i'm not saying she does this intentionally, or even consciously, but she definitely does it... and then some.

Now i was really just bluffing ofc (i was just very convincing at it), because who am i kidding. I'm not going to leave a 1 year old child with her, especially after she just got dumped and might do god knows. She once literally told me she would off herself and take our son with her.

And then what do you know... she suddenly learned to pick up wet towels, clean the john after use, and a few other things that annoyed me to NO END. She even learned to behave like a reasonable human being again... who knew?? We had a few pick-nicks, did a few dates, things were looking up.

Now by this time I had disconnected from her emotionally, but at the very least i was able to respect her a little more now, and even, sometimes, enjoyed her company.

It was not to last however, and she soon reverted into her grating emotionally unstable mess of a self. Constantly needing affirmation, adoration, accusing me of god knows what for no real reason. If i spent 1 hour pursuing a hobby that didn't involve her she would cry foul, telling me i didn't care for her anymore (i didn't, but hey, i pretended at least), and i was shopping for someone else, and i was hoarding money. Uh yeah i was, since it was MY money, and i wasn't exactly hoarding it as i was pretty much spending every cent i made on family expenses (kids cost money it seems).

Anyway... right around the time i was actually ready to follow through on my ultimatum, and DAMN the consequences (cause i was about ready to hire a hitman), she comes out and tell me she has a surprise....

It was NOT a pie...

It was my daughter, and she was FOUR frickin months pregnant (odd as it may seem, you could NOT tell by looking at her). She claim she kept having her period and didn't know, I haven't a clue if that's true, nor do i really care to know, as it really doesn't matter.

Now i've been beating myself over the head about this ever since... why did you touch her, should have just kept your hands off her when things were going so badly in the relationship. And i'm right of course, i should have kept it in my pants considering how she got pregnant the first time.

But did i mention she's hot? Did i also mention that she does things in the bedroom that you don't even tell your dad after a few beers? Well she is, and she does, and about the ONLY thing she did for about a year after our son was born was complain about me, fight with me and then take her clothes off and do it to me. And yeah i did resist her a couple of times.. but she has "ways". She would often turn into Cinderella for a few days turning up the hormones and sticky feelings and then turn back into Cruella soon as she had her way.

My daughter is fine btw, she's 4 and she's a blessing. She's super cute and super cuddly.

ONWARD WE GO!

After years of mustering inhuman tolerance to grating, complaining and emotional manipulation (i'll save you the details cause that will just tick me off and ruin the rest of my day), i managed to wip her porn star quality buttox back into a reasonable shape by demanding that she do her part in chores and pay her part of the bills and at least TRY to be a nurturing mother to our two kids.

She got to a point where things were almost tolerable. I helped her look for a profession that she liked and would suit her needs, while still giving her plenty of time for herself to do her... stuff... i dunno what she does really... she likes to endless browse through add folders, clip coupons, and talk... god does he like to talk. I do not hear 99% of everything she says, and i'm TRYING HARD. Seriously the stuff her conversations are made up... it would bore even the most attention craving person to tears within the hour.

And when i say i "helped her find a profession" i don't mean i picked one for her, just for the record! I spend months endlessly having conversations with her trying to figure out what her interests were ( they were pretty hard to find) and suggesting possible things she could do.

And she did, for a while...

It quickly descended into madness ofc. She couldn't deal with it anymore, started handing off chores to me, started demanding i help her with her work, etc etc. Endlessly complaining about the workload and the pay and god knows what else.

So i suggested she become a stay at home mom... just until she finds something else. I never asked this of her, it was a suggestion, furthermore i never pushed her to a job either. It was only because of her endless grating about wanting to get back to work (but showing absolutely no initiative to do so) that I helped her find a job.

So back to square one...

When i said "stay at home mom" i didn't mean she could just stay at home clipping coupons and leaving all the chores till i get home from work.

Small detail here: I never actually "get home from work". I started a business short after we met and i started a second business about a year ago. It seems that when you are the sole breadwinner and don't want your kids living in squalor, you are required to have at least 2 jobs paying well. So that's what i'm doing.

When i say "get home from work", i mean i arrived home from nagging customers and need to get behind my desk and answer to more nagging customers... where I will be semi available to help out with the kids and maybe have some down-time.

I do NOT mean i am available to listen to nagging, whining, complaining, or conversations made entirely of the stuff that drain the fluids out of your face and turn you into an extra from the show "The Walking Dead".

BACK TO THE FUTURE:

So where are we now? Well i'm juggling between keeping two businesses afloat. One pays the bills for right now, the other is hopefully going to pay the bills in the future when I am no longer able to handle the workload involved in business nr. 1 (i mentioned the several years of hermit lifestyle... well that wasn't "cured" only postponed, so i'm on borrowed time when it comes to finding ways to provide for myself and my family).

While i'm doing that i'm also trying to raise 2 kids reasonably well and dealing with my wife's inability to behave like an adult human being that understands that adult life comes with certain responsibilities that can't always be postponed to listen to endless idle conversation or deal with the N'th emotional hissy fit or outright breakdown.

I wish, i pray that she would just leave me alone... stop talking to me, stop treating me like a "husband" and start treating me like a roommate that just happens to pay all the bills. And yes i wish she would stop touching me and parading around in front of me to incite me into throwing her to the floor and doing it to her dirty... I DON'T WANT TO ANYMORE... not emotionally any way.

Which might explain why our sex life is essentially non existent most of the time, until animal instinct takes over and shuts down my brain.

That aside, i wish i could send her off to some hospital to have her feminine wiles replaced with a properly adjusted brain. I would rather spend the rest of my life beating off in the john and praying for a levitating nymph to float through the window and ease my suffering, than spend the next ten years with her obnoxious personality being shoved in my face.

Aside from the constant nagging, complaining, neediness and emotional turmoil, she also completely lacks the ability to socialize with others. That is, she makes "friends" just fine, but those friendship quickly descend into smack talking and gossip contests. She is unable to form any kind of real bond with anyone and without it ultimately transforming into emotional turmoil.

My dad wont even visit us anymore. Several times has she threatened to curtail my kids "grand-pa" time if he doesn't adjust his attitude towards her... It doesn't need adjusting, his attitude is spot on. Just that he lacks the ability to play the game of faces and just tells her what he thinks. I just tell her to go copulate with herself and take the kids over the my dad myself.

That doesn't make the constant war of power any better though... nor her trying to rally me to her side by constantly pointing out my parents' flaws and how it could potentially affect our kids emotionally.

To be clear. My parents are FINE, my dad likes old school rock music, my mom raised some questions about my sons upbringing with her (in a nice way, but it started a war anyways). My son has a few "quirks" in his behavior, it isn't "bad" but it isn't normal either. We are seeing someone about it, i personally am sure he will be just fine. As is mostly everyone who knows my son... my wife is convinced he's DOOMED, has 20 different mental illnesses, and will likely never amount to anything. She then turns it around and says it's her fault (it's not, it's a genetic thing, but if it WERE anyone's fault it surely WOULD be hers) then plays off the victim role... it's her best performance... outside the bedroom ofc.

THE PLAN:

Honestly? I don't know. Leaving her with these kids is unthinkable. I have no idea what she'd do. I wouldn't ever sleep again. And frankly judges are horribly retarded and are not prone to recognizing the merits of a hard working father over the merits of a "stay at home" mother... regardless of how fraked up she really is. If she's not brandishing a knife and screaming "swallow your soul swallow your soul!" in court then she's likely to get custody anyways.

So that's not an option... god i WISH. Imagine being by myself, not being yelled, nagged, talking at... going to bed, by myself, waking up in the morning with nothing to do but wake the kids, take em to school and going to work... all in perfect serenity with the only disturbances being the endless questions of kids...

HEAVEN!

And maybe even meeting someone (after i've cooled my jets for a few years and taking a couple thousand $ in therapy ofc) who i actually like, can have real conversations with. Who actually offers some kind of support. Imagine someone coming in to your office after you just got off the phone with someone threatening to DOOM you for life if you don't service them THIS INSTANT, the despair, the pressure... and then your wife comes in and pats you on the back "everything ok?". My god... look, someone here who is over the age of 6 recognizes that I am a human being with feelings and that even if i don't NEED a back pat, it still feels GREAT.

Anyways, back to reality cause that's not going to happen.

Honestly, my plan is to raise my kids... endure her.. and as soon as i feel my kids are self sufficient enough to go their own way. I will be moving THE **** OUT and as far away from her as distance to my kids will allow me to be. She can HAVE the damn house (that i paid), and all our miserable stuff (that i paid), and the car (that i paid), but the TV is mine!! I will be packing that sucker up in a big ol' box and throwing it off the first bridge i cross on the way to my new (and hopefully still fairly long) life! Why the TV? Because i WILL have SOMETHING of everything that belongs to me (which IS everything, even her underwear!!) when i leave here, and i just want it to be something significant, portable and reasonably valuable. Significant for emotional satisfaction, reasonably valuable so i can at least tell myself i didn't walk out of the split completely empty handed, and especially portable so i don't ever have to go back there and see her face again.

Yes she can have everything, i don't give a flying feces about any of our (MY) stuff. I will be THAT happy to leave it all behind.

I hope my kids won't hate me for leaving their mother (and potentially sending her off straight to the gutter, cause really i have no idea how she is going to get by on her own, without help, without servants or someone to do her chores, and without some kind of income. (she can have my savings two, screw it). BUT IF THEY DO... then so be it. They will have the rest of their lives to consider how i sacrificed 20 YEARS IN HELL to give them a reasonable upbringing, and i hope for them I will still be alive when they come around to realize it... cause my pretty bowl of mixed charred human'ish remains certainly isn't going to say "i'd do it all again" when they come around to say "thanks". Maybe i best make sure and inscribe that on my headstone.

Right now i'm just hoping I make it that far without losing my mind. It's a strange feeling praying you live 15-20 more years not cause you want it for yourself but just because you know your kids will be majorly screwed if you don't!

Btw, while i'm at it i might as well post my personal right!?

Single retired male of average build seeks date with outgoing and emotionally secure female, to be scheduled for September 2035. Likes long walks on the beach and playing fetch with lingerie. Slightly allergic to smalltalk, but newly graduated from therapy and eager to adventure with a partner in crime. Interested? Great, leave a message and i'll see you in 20 years! You bring flowers, i'll pay for dinner (hey i'm old fashioned but at least i try!)

Bye for now!