What. The Fuck

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This is more of a rant than anything, just knowing that one person may read it gives me some form of solace.

I'm old, turned thirty-five not too long ago and as I sit here looking back at my life I don't know what I've done to fuck it all up so bad. They say everything happens for a reason, but does it?

I'm an American living abroad. I have a decent education and had a decent job here. That all ended when I met my ex-wife. I'm not the kind of person who speaks ill about their ex's, I typically have no reason too seeing that the majority of them have ended amicably. But the one person who I thought was "the one", the person I thought I'd share my life with and grow old with, out of all the people I've been with, was the one who destroyed me.

I won't go into a long diatribe about my time in this relationship, but I will say the emotional and physical abuse I endured during this time has left its mark on me. I suffer from PTSD (I hate using the term, but it's what I've been labeled with) and all the bells and whistles that come with it.

I haven't been in a relationship in over a decade despite having my chances. I can't blame that all on my ex, some blame has to go with the culture of Europe that I don't agree with. Besides, my humor and day to day life is still American despite having been in Europe for this long so in the long run, we wouldn't mesh.

A little over a year ago I slipped and fell breaking my back in two places at work. I'm in constant pain and have resorted to living a sedimentary lifestyle in order to keep that pain at bay. I exist within four walls with this computer I'm typing on as my main source of connection with the world outside.

You reading this has had more interaction with me than any of my family a thousand miles away. I normally keep my issues to myself, but as of late they've just become more and more unbearable. I do have one obligation that I will never break, or I would have ended my life years ago.