I hesitate to hit the delete button because I have put some time and effort into this blog with best intentions of relating the difficulties of family life shot to pieces by depression.
Nevertheless, my kids are no longer kids. My writing about them could cause them embarrassment and that's without my 'dear diary' posts of unhappy marriage. I did not ask them if it's okay to speak of them publicly. I'm sure they would not like it now and that's understandable. My wife knew of my intentions of blogging within the framework of depression but I'm sure there would be some surprise on reading my inner thoughts on our marriage. I've deliberately kept things fairly anonymous and hope that is not interpreted as writing fiction instead of fact.
As for being married; I still am. I can't afford somewhere else to go, if that's what eventually happens. It's not so bad, just not what I'd like it be. I also know it's unlikely to ever be the way I'd like it to be with my wife or anyone else. I just cannot imagine that happening.
This kind of leads me to the post title about honour and disappointment.
Despite growing up and being led to believe women are more honourable than men (men are almost always the bad guys in movies, hard drinking womanisers, irresponsible, immature truthbenders etc) I've learned, sometimes the hard way, that women are no different. This is not a blanket generalisation because I know that there are men and women who are honourable within relationships. There is also a woman for every man when it comes to deception within a relationship.
It's not something new I've just figured out. It's something that disappointed me in the past and continues to do so. I kind of like the thought of women being a little better than the men, a shining light so to speak. Weird, naive? Definitely fantasy land stuff.
Unfortunately, I'm constantly reminded of this as I watch my daughter navigate a relationship or two. Whoa.
Anyway, that's it for now. All is fairly steady in my world. By that I mean boring, unsatisfying, frustrating and servile. My day will come, sooner rather than later.