I brought it up to her told her it was my red line. She was surprisingly supportive.
My father injured his back ruptured 3 disks at age 40 he was a pipefitter doing cooling systems for powerplants. He was moving a large cement cylinder the other guys dropped it and he didn’t hear the count he was holding still. He’s been on SSDI since that event. He almost killed himself with oxycontin and then quit it at age 50. He does that hydro-therapy and that works for him. Sorry to hear about that. Sounds like a woman who married for money.
My situation is different it’s more breaking the cycle of poverty.
My wife experienced rural poverty, I experienced urban poverty and we bought a fixer upper in 2013 in the suburbs. So now suburban poverty exists, it’s kind of funny because the people here are like socially liberal for being 95% white. Yet they’ve never seen poor folk like us. My basement was a band room for like 2 years, and our house was a collective for all sorts of crust punk from the Grand Rapids metro. Annoyed the batshit out of the police. I think one night we genuinely scared them as they raced back to their cars. Then we had our son, and I got tired of the punk life, and I started questioning existence and I found faith and I tried to apply it to my prior world view and I couldn’t. I need an outlet to get out my anger, and that jetski I had took a crap. Feeling trapped sucks but I got the courage to state my redline the day before it I was gagging like nervously it was kind of funny but kind of sad.