Just got back from the doctor.  He said I was okay.  They did some crazy shit with my intestines to fix me up.  They apparently just jam them back in and sometimes it takes a while for them to sort themselves out.  I refilled my Percodan.  I pulled the shit out of my incisions puking.

So all I've got to do now is sit alone in the house and feel depressed.  I made some progress with my wife.  We're still going to counselling.  My problem is that I'm pretty sure she's not onboard with the process and just going through the motions.  I think after she's put in the requisite number of visits with the counsellor for people to think she's not an asshole and that she's made an effort, she'll quit.

My other problem is the trust issues I've got with her now.  She's making it really hard to want to fight for my marriage.

I'm not a suicide risk.  I'm too vain to end my existance.  I can't imagine a universe without me in it.  If I died, everything would disappear and all you guys would be fucked.  I'll hang in there for your benefit.  But even though I can rule out the act of suicide, it's all I fucking think about.  Right now, oblivion would be an improvement over my situation. 

Recovering from multiple open abdominal surgery = depression

Being sick = depression

Being helpless while your marriage falls apart = DEPRESSION

Historically being the guy who helps people in need and then hearing chirping crickets when you're in need = depression

Not being able to eat or sleep while being half looped on pain meds = depression

I've got a lot of factors working against me.

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Got interrupted by a phone call from my father in Texas.  My parents fucking love my wife.  He's pretty freaked out too.  He invited me to come stay with them for the weekend.  Tickets to Austin are crazy expensive.  I'm not sure what I'm going to do.