I(35m) have epilepsy. My family and I didn’t tell my wife(36f) the full extent of it. She didn’t need to know how my meds ruin my fertility—because let’s be honest, she wouldn’t have married me. Honestly, I should’ve never gotten married to her. I could’ve had a much better life without all this baggage.

She’s been dragging me through IVF like it’s the only thing that matters. I’ve paid for every single treatment, like I’m some kind of ATM. But what do I get in return? Nothing. No intimacy. No connection. Just her and her endless whining about what didn’t work. I’m supposed to be her emotional support? No thanks. I’m just a paycheck to her, and she’s always been too self-absorbed to see that.

So yeah, I started watching cam sites. Extreme stuff. It was a way to deal with the frustration she created. She found out and went into meltdown mode. Cried, screamed, accused me of cheating. She’s clueless. I wasn’t cheating. I wasn’t touching anyone. I was just trying to meet my needs, because apparently, she doesn’t give a damn about that anymore. But I don’t care what she thinks. She’s been so emotionally unavailable for so long that I don’t even recognize her anymore.

She had another miscarriage. Boo-hoo. She shut down, got even more withdrawn and depressed, and I couldn’t care less. I paid for the damn procedure, so I’ve done my part. I gave her space, but that’s it. I’m not here to comfort her. I’m not here to hold her hand. Every time I try to get close, it feels like I’m being suffocated. So, I didn’t bother reaching out when she stopped talking to me. I’m actually relieved she’s leaving me alone for once.

We stopped going to therapy because she couldn’t handle hearing the truth about my relationship with my mom. She thinks it’s weird that I call my mom whenever I feel frustrated with her. She calls it “toxic.” I call it survival. My mom’s the only one who’s ever had my back, and I’m not going to apologize for that. When we first got married, my mom even monitored my seizures with a baby monitor. My wife hated it. I guess she wanted me to die quietly in my sleep instead of having someone actually care. Well, too bad. My mom’s been more supportive than she’s ever been.

I’ve got no patience left. I’m back on dating apps—Tinder Gold, POF, whatever—and I’m talking to whoever I want. I don’t care anymore. I don’t owe her anything. She’s nothing but a burden at this point. She’s not the woman I married. She’s turned into someone I barely recognize—and not in a good way. She’s too wrapped up in her own misery to notice what’s been right in front of her.