January 15, 2026, Thursday.
Weatherford, Oklahoma.

My dear wife says she has made various suicide attempts throughout the past week. Thank goodness none of them worked. And since she’s telling me this, I suppose she means to say “save me”.

So I immediately reached out to her mother. I feel sorry for the poor woman too. We also talked with her older sister about what we can do.

I say my wife, but it’s a long story.

If you go to a foreign country, find a local woman and make her believe you love her just to get residency there, and one day when you’re done, you leave without looking back, it means you’re a despicable, dishonorable son of a bitch, right?

That is our story (I am the son of a bitch in this story).

It’s actually been 6 years since we separated. But we never lost contact. I tried to stay friends as much as I could.

We haven’t been able to get divorced yet either, it dragged on and on and on for various reasons, and today we are actually still married.

For a while, I paid her rent and bills, even though we were separated. It doesn’t matter. It’s her right. She saved my life in a way, after all. She’s a good person too. I like her.

However, later on, I slowly expressed that she needed to stand on her own two feet. I figured I probably couldn’t look after her for a lifetime. Her hands work, her arms work, I thought she should work and look after herself.

And she succeeded. She was doing Instacart, making good money too. But last year her Instacart account was closed. After that, she could never get back on her feet.

We don’t even know why the account was closed. I mean, an email came, but what was written in that email isn’t true. I mean, did they close it by mistake, I wonder? Or did they no longer need her and just made up a fake excuse? I have no idea. I’m just taking her word for it. That’s how she told it to me.

According to what she said, she contacted them multiple times but it seems they weren’t very helpful.

Then she couldn’t pay her rent either, moved out of her place, and moved in with her mother. She’s been living with her mother for a year.

She’s doing DoorDash but she isn’t very happy with DoorDash. A 34-year-old woman. Not a kid anymore, after all. The things she’s dealing with must be getting to her. Who wants to deal with DoorDash? That’s life. Necessity.

Black. Fat. These are major disadvantages. No self-confidence. Self-esteem is rock bottom. And on the one hand, DoorDash, poverty, living with your mother at 34 – when you stack them all up, she doesn’t want to live anymore. She sees herself as a massive failure, a pitiful loser. She states she has no strength left to struggle, to fight.

Actually, I don’t think her situation is terrible. There are still a lot of things she can do. Suicide feels a bit like taking the easy way out. Of course, depression is a huge problem too.

Now I’m heading to California, just to see her. I had started the week in New York, moving westward. First I hauled a load to Illinois, from there I’m taking something to eat to Phoenix now. And then California.

Actually, I tell her to hop in and travel in the truck with me. I’ll look after you until you think of and find a plan. However, she’s very fussy. Also, she never listens. She’s stubborn. She does things her own way.

Otherwise, I’m happier in the truck without her too, but what can I do, this is what I’m capable of, this is what I can offer.

Anyway, let’s meet and see what will happen. She might rob me blind. Or she might say ‘fuck your money’ and insist on committing suicide. Both of these are bad. The second one is probably much worse. But the first one isn’t less bad either. If I’m going to give my all to her, then why should I even live.

We need to find a middle ground. That’s my hope. If she tells me “look after me for 3 months, then I’ll get back on my feet”, I’m fine with that. I’d give her half my earnings for 3 months, 5 months, but she needs to make a plan, find a job, start from somewhere.

I just don’t know. I mean, when she says “3 months, 5 months, I don’t want anything, I’m determined, I want to die,” we just get gridlocked. And that’s how she always talks.

Our situation is tough.

That’s life. It passes by dealing with nonsensical things. And then we die. Great! Truly perfect!