I hope y’all don’t mind me posting this, but I just need to emote openly.
I have told you all about my estranged wife, and all of our problems. So I am basically “staying married to her” solely for the purpose of getting her Medicare to allow her ongoing dialysis treatment.
She is going through a difficult time, and I understand that. But I really can’t provide the emotional support that she needs, because of the tattered nature of our relationship.
In the last year, I have learned that she basically catfished me seven years ago. And she lied about virtually everything concerning who she was/is. Where she lived, what she did for a living, what her educational background was, her romantic/sexual history, her bi-sexualism, none of it was true. She told me so many lies, I don’t think she even knows the difference between the truth and a lie. I honestly don’t know who I married. And I’m really more pissed at myself that I am at her, because I consider myself a smart guy, and if she had lived in America at the time, I would have hired an investigator to do a full dossier on her. But I didn’t, and it was my absolute huge fucking mistake.
So now she is having these emotional breakdowns, and started texting me at 6:30 AM on Labor Day and continued to send messages throughout the day, calling me every horrible thing imaginable, accusing me of all kinds of things which are not true, expressing suicidal thoughts, and just absolutely keeping me in a state of aggravation and unhappiness. I finally told her I couldn’t take it anymore, “I’m gonna block you, and if you need something on an emergency basis just send me an email.”
So this woman, who is truly a stranger to me now, has been living in my house on my dime for seven years. She’s been nothing but trouble all that time. And now she’s has end stage renal disease, and likely liver failure. I don’t know if she’s going to live another month or another 10 years. But at some point I’m going to have a Russian corpse on my hands And no one to even send her ashes to. She only has one relative that I know of, a cousin in Moscow.
So the moral of the story is, if you go to a club bathroom in the middle of the night, and the lights are not working, check the toilet seat for carrots before you sit down.
End of rant.