“I’m Trying to Hold Everything Together, But It’s Breaking Me

Our baby’s 1 and a half now - healthy, thriving, and innocent in all this. But behind closed doors, I’m running on fumes.

I work remotely, but honestly, I barely get two hours done a day. I’ve been a stay-at-home dad since she was born, trying to keep the peace and support my wife. She refused therapy for the first year, so I became her therapist, her shoulder to cry on, her everything. And I’m still in that role, even though I’m the one burning out now.

We don’t take the baby out. No parks. No family trips. No grocery runs together. We’ve gone shopping as a family three times - in over a year. Yesterday my wife sat all the way at the other end of the table just to “eat in peace” while I fed our kid.

I wanted to yell, this isn’t normal, but I didn’t. Because if I do, she’ll shut down or walk out. She’s fragile, and I know she regrets this life, regrets motherhood, but I’m scared her pain is swallowing us both.

Every day I want to tell her, you have to move forward. But instead, I stay quiet. I hold it in. I build resentment. I dream about being a single dad because at least then, maybe, I could breathe.

I love my kid. But I hate what this has turned me into, a man silently holding the whole house up while it crumbles on top of him.”

-Anonymous

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5787581&forum_id=2/#49358530)