If this OP is objectionable, then please delete the whole thing quickly.
I have a story here which may not have a solution, like most things don't, but your opinions are very interesting, and maybe my story will save someone from going down my path.
I have never taken drugs, except one time, and that made me feel like murderers jump out of thin air to kill me and rob me. I don't know the name of that drug they gave me, but ever since that night, every night I feel that way when I am alone in a building.
So I exploited ladies' interests and always made sure that I sleep with someone in my bed. I had many girlfriends since I discovered this fix.
But now some time ago, I realized that I Corinthians 13 is true, and I am nothing without a woman loving me, so I decided to disassemble my life and rebuild it around one girlfriend who agreed to build a common life with me.
She needed an operation and in my usual arrogant attitude, I convinced her that she will get a better service here in France than back home in America, and I took her to France to live with me, essentially uprooting our life in the States.
Then her doctor prescribed too few pain killers (I guess) after her operation, and I went back to the doctor to get to know him and I convinced him to write some more pills for her because she was complaining of the pain so badly.
Now I am realizing that she got addicted to those pills. For the 2nd time now, when we are in bed and I want to give her a hug, she kicks me really hard, pushes me away and takes the pills. She says that I got her hurt and that I betrayed her with this abuse.
And I must say that she is right! I abused and betrayed the one person who loved me.
What shall I do? Take back my life and carry on? I have no life, I disassembled it and gave it to her. I should have known what drugs do when I went to talk to her doctor. I should have known what moving countries means to a person who had never done that. I should have had consideration and respect for her. I deserve what I get. I don't exist now, even though taking the average US life expectancy statistics, I have way more than 60 years still to live in my physical body.
How do you count down so patiently all your years? I think I have now reached my end, she refuses to talk to me altogether, not even a "hi" when we go to bed, all I can do is sit and watch her absolutely beautiful shapely body and face fall asleep, without one word. I did all this destruction all by myself, and now I am a horrible betrayer, an abuser, and a nobody, for not thinking about her. She is the most caring, supportive, and loving, selfless, and beautiful girl in the world. Is there a way to fix this problem that I created? I know that with a failed suicide attempt I would just make myself disabled, but a successful suicide attempt would put me in a scary place. What do people do with all those years they pull on themselves in their average 85 year long lives after they destroy the one person who loved them?