I am aged 29, married to a 27-year-old woman, and father of a three-year-old boy. Our relationship started on the wrong footing because, three months after the birth of our son, my wife left me because I lost my job. She explained that I could not take care of the family, and that she would not let my mother step into that role.
My mother, understandably, did not approve of the decision of my wife to go back to her father, but my wife became rude to my mother and eventually they stopped talking altogether.
After a while, however, I landed another job and started taking care of my son by sending his mother money for his upkeep. I also tried to convince my wife to come back home, but she said she had started another relationship with another man, and I no longer fit in her life.
After about a year, she changed her mind and came back to live with me. Six months down the road, however, I lost my job again, and she in turn lost her nuts. To feed and clothe the family, I relied on casual jobs in construction sites, and every time I went home she would call me names, saying I was worthless and not man enough since I could barely take care of my own family.
Sometimes she got physical, beating me up and inviting me to dare lift an arm against her. Because I knew what she wanted (to label me a good-for-nothing wife beater who belonged in jail), I soaked it all in without as much as a whimper.
Lady luck smiled upon her and she got a job even as I struggled to feed the family. That steady income, that was better than mine, made her abuse of me even worse. And then she stopped doing any domestic chores like cooking, claiming our roles were now reversed. Unable to take the abuse and mental torture, I walked out.
To supplement her earnings, she started working in local bars and night clubs. At about the same time, I sought visitation of my child, but she refused me the rights and the local authorities couldn’t help.
After a year, I secured another job and, as usual, started sending my wife money to for her upkeep and that of our son. Twenty months later, she moved in with me, promising to stay.
Well, she lied, because, as I write to you, she is not living with me any more. She packed her bags and ferried away everything I owned after I lost my job again. It feels like a cycle, and it has taken a toll on me. I have nothing to show for my struggles after all these years. My house is empty, my wife gone, and I can’t see my son no matter how much I miss him.
Sometimes I feel like committing suicide, because this life does not seem worth the struggle. I’m at the end of my tether; please help me! I’m on my knees!
i dont have any. I lost both shoulders in a smelting accident