I’m not in a positive place today.

Lately, I feel like a burden to my partner. She says I’m not. But needing more and more help, feeling myself deteriorate, makes me want to ask less — not more. A few days ago, I asked for something. What it was doesn’t even matter now. Her reaction — whether fair or not — broke something in me.
It told me it was time to stop asking.

Even though I need help, now I won't ask for it.

Last night, I told her — not about the specific incident, not about how much it shook me — but that I didn't think she could handle taking care of me as I am now.

The day she reacted that way, I quietly started looking at options to return to the USA.
No big announcements. No set date. Just reality-check research.
It didn’t look good. Memphis, Jackson — high crime, huge housing shortages, no public transportation.

Assisted living? Completely out of my financial range.
I didn’t plan for retirement the way I should have.
I didn’t expect my mid-60s to come so fast.

I don’t have a normal relationship with my daughter — stolen from me by the design of my ex-wife.

But I can’t blame only her. I broke too. I wasn't strong enough, wasn’t wise enough, wasn’t whole enough not to implode under emotional abuse and neglect.

I can make excuses all day, but the truth is, I blame myself.
No matter what anyone else did, I could have done better.
If only I hadn't needed love so damn badly. If only I hadn't been broken from the start.

My mother didn’t love me.
My father wasn’t around.
My sister is now mentally ill.

Most of the people who once knew me are dead.

If I return to America, I have no family support.
Whatever help I’d need would have to be bought — at a high price I can’t afford.

So I sit here and wonder:

Am I a bad person that nobody cares about?

I probably have low-grade Asperger’s or some other form of autism.
My partner once said, “People don’t understand you.”
Maybe she’s right.

And now, my worst fear — being alone — is no longer just a fear. It’s reality.

So what’s the point of being here?

I can barely stand more than five minutes at a time. Two bulging discs in my spine are wrecking me.

As my body falls apart, I’m terrified of becoming one of those forgotten old men, alone, miserable, just waiting to die.

I don't want to die.

I learned that when I had a heart attack and septic shock.
I stared death in the face — and I was scared shitless.

I want to live.

But living feels heavier now. Harder. Less supported.

Will I make it to 80? I honestly doubt it.

Still, I cling to some hope that God lives inside me.
But even there, I’m afraid to say it with confidence.
I'm too selfish. Too doubtful. Too human.

Suicide? No.
It feels like killing God inside me — and I won’t do that.

I’ll stay here until I’m called home.
Not a moment sooner.
But some days, like today, I sit here wondering... why?

While I sit typing this, my partner is out running errands — all of them, for me.
I feel guilty even for that. She does so much and I am so thankful. What will I do if she's not there?

I am changing though. Tonight, I stood up and felt a bit woozy. I thought, is this going to be it? I was at peace with the idea. I was not afraid. 

I’m alone. And, why do I feel alone when my partner does so much for me? Perhaps, I am spoiled and I'm not worthy. I don't think I can walk away and return to the USA as long as I have a shred of hope. That fear of regretting what I had is big on me. I've lost too many people who were not supposed to ever abandon me but they did. 

I don’t know if I’m still fighting or if this is just a cry for help.

Maybe it’s both.

If you are struggling, please know you are not alone. This post is not a call for help, but an honest reflection on aging, loneliness, and resilience. I know it's not something most would post. I chose to be real and raw. Most people seem to have problems with me behaving that way. I pity those who cannot. If you are suicidal call a suicide prevention line. There are people there who want to help you. If you need help finding a number, I’ll help. In the USA dial 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline.