TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of SA.

NO. I am not suicidal. Not in the least. I have no intentions or desires to harm myself, or anyone else for that matter. 

I have so many things to be excited. Happy. Grateful for.

But I just can't. Every single aspect of my life... I try to find the joy, the excitement, ANYTHING... and I instantly lose control of my thoughts to the point that it brings on depression about EVERYTHING.

For instance:

New house: "Omigosh how exciting!? You must be so happy!" I'm not. Part of this is because we (my husband, my son, my daughter, our 2 dogs, my FIL, and his dog, resided together in a 2 bedroom shithole for the last 2 years. Of 3 adults and 2 children, 3 of us worked full time jobs - my husband, my son (he's almost 18 and no longer in school), and myself. The house was constantly disgusting and dirty. I would literally leave work, pick up my daughter, get home, have to do dishes and clean up any messes (which included searching around a recliner for dirty dishes), cook a meal, and do homework and other adult/parental responsibilities. FIL is a "disabled" veteran. He's not physically disabled. He is more than capable of doing ANYTHING besides sitting on his ass, watching TV (usually spank bank material like Heartland and reruns of Charmed... yeah... he's that kind of a FIL.) That being said, 90% of the housework was left for me to do. (I promise you, my son definitely helped out when asked and not completely exhausted from work... my husband even occasionally would take the time to do a few small things here and there when his work schedule would allow him to be home long enough...) Besides that - the 120 year old house was never properly or fully cleaned. Mice, dust, dog hair, just... every nightmareish thing that makes me ashamed to have let my children live there for any amount of time. So I've spent every moment of moving cleaning anything that came from the house to put it into our much nicer, much cleaner, newer house.  BUT WAIT! THERE'S MORE!

Prior to being approved to move into our new home, my FIL took out a HELOC to "pay the property taxes". He took out a 56k loan to pay 2k in taxes. Sooooo, in order to get approved for a VA loan, he either had to sell the shithole, or rent it. My husband talked to my son and told him he could stay there if he found a roommate, and they could rent the home. That's cool and all. But my son's ACTUAL  landlord is currently passed out in a self induced diabetic nap in front of his 85 in cable tv. Clearly... he has no intentions of using the funds from the HELOC to do important things like remove the 2 decades expired medications and 15 vehicles ago rotted car parts from the water damaged cellar... or update/improve the electric... or replace the 30 year old roof... no no no.... my husband thought it wise to put it into the lease agreement that the tenants be responsible for that.... because when all is said and done, my husband says the house will belong to my son. The house that DOES NOT belong to my husband, that he has absolutely NO ownership over as he is not on the deed, or even a biological child to my father in law...

New job: "Oh! Congratulations! You're now able to earn LITERALLY double what you've made in the last year!" NOOOOPE. 2nd day on the new job, I worked with 8 different people. 3 of them are registered violent sex offenders/child predators/ and yes... even an individual that sexually assaulted me 15 years ago. Great paying jobs for convicts. (I should add that I was NOT aware that this place did ZERO background checks on it's employees until the end of day 1. And I STILL would have showed up the next day because I personally know TOO many people are casted out because of some real dumb charges that honestly should have been abolished 30 or more years ago.) I didn't sleep that night or the next day because of it. I stopped 3 or 4 times on the way home to make sure none of these people were following me. Not that they'd want anything to do with my overweight, "methmouth", pregnancy melasma looking ass... but my daughter. I feared more that one of these bonafide pervs would follow me home, see where I lived, and come after my child. I spent the whole shift in fight or flight mode because of this. 3rd day was resignation before my shift even started. I felt like such an ass... for quitting on day 3, knowing there were some high expectations for my being there. But I was a basketcase because of it.

I'm educated. I'm adaptable. I'm reliable. I'm considerate. I'm forgiving. Except for when my limits have been reached.

And now... I don't even want to exist in my own life. I don't want to be here.... this garbage is just the tip of the iceberg. There's so much more I could divulge... but not tonight.

How do I just... not exist, or feel, or care? HOW?