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I Am Suicidal
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I wonder...

Why I'm even breathing anymore???

One of the worst things about this illness isn't so much that it's taken me 4 years to get to the point where I might finally be able to get a name for it.

It's the way that my husband delights in throwing things that I would love to be able to do in my face these days. His favourite thing to throw in my face is my inability to find employment because no one will hire me without knowing what is wrong with me.

In the ideal world, I'd love to get a job tomorrow... preferably abroad somewhere - or, even on board a cruise ship where I can bunker down in a hotel room somewhere between contracts and never have to see him again.

Given that I potentially have this disability... I can't help but feel frustrated and wonder if I'll ever get a plan in my head that I can use to get away from him for good.

 
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