What would happen if I just made up my mind to leave? How would life change for me and for my family? Would I find the inner peace that I lack right now? Would everything magically get better?

I'm not delusional. I know that it would be ridiculously hard. Most of all, I know that it would be a really difficult transition for my kids. They're young and as far as they know, mommies and daddies stay together.

Did I say it would be "difficult?" Maybe I should change that to "horrible." "Tragic." "Life-altering."

"The end of a secure life."

Am I being dramatic? I just try to think of what it would be like if a life truth was suddenly changed for me. What if my house burned down? What if I lost my arm? I can only imagine what it's like to suddenly have everything change.

I know that I would recover just fine. I know the process would be painful, but in the long run I think that it would make me happier overall. Then again, how can I be happy when I cause so much pain to my kids?

What a tangled web.

If I one day suddenly blurted out, "I can't take this anymore. I need a divorce," then it would be a bizarre combination of a huge weight lifted off my shoulders while also opening the door to a bunch of new drama and turmoil. It’s like I know what I want the eventual outcome to be, but I don't want to deal with all the stuff in between.

So what happens if I just make up my mind to leave? The world will be turned upside down. My life will never be the same again. The question then becomes, will the new life be better, and worth the effort?

The other day I was having a conversation with a friend of mine from church. She asked me how my husband and I had met and I laughed while I told her the usual thing I tell people: "We met in the dormitory and he couldn't stand me."

Everyone gets a real kick out of this story about how a man could detest a woman but eventually wind up married to her.

I've been thinking about this a lot. Does my husband like me now? I can't imagine I'm all that easy to live with. I tried to leave him once and I'm emotional unavailable a good portion of the time because I don't feel connected to him. I don't initiate sex. I work long hours and I'm critical of him when he doesn't push himself like I push myself.

I don't think I would like me either.

He's professed his undying love to me through this entire process of trying to figure out if we'll stay together, but I'm having a hard time figuring out if he really loves me, or if it is instead a case of not wanting to wind up divorced like his parents, or not wanting to break up the family, or — hopefully not — he doesn't want to lose the dame who cooks his meals and makes sure he has clean underwear.

Would I want to stay with someone like me? No, I probably wouldn't. Then again, my husband has pushed me to the sheer brink of madness but I'm still here, aren't I?

What a mess.

If you've never been in a situation where you didn't know if your husband's love for you was genuine or if instead he really liked having a live-in maid, then let me tell you this: It stinks. It's also very confusing. Most of all, though, it's awfully lonely.

Let me tell you about how we got our cat. She's a really pretty long haired cat that we obtained from the local animal shelter a few months ago after relentless requests from our older daughter for a family pet.

With everything so up in the air lately with regards to our family situation I was really apprehensive about getting a family pet, but as I said, my daughter was relentless.

It turns out that I'm allergic to cats. I had cats growing up and at some points in my adult years, but something about this cat makes me sneeze and cough as though I was rolling around in oleander bushes (something I really am allergic to).

When it became apparent that I can only spend limited time with this cat before my eyes start watering and my throat starts itching, the chore of brushing the cat's long fur falls on my husband. The kids aren't quite gentle enough yet for this delicate task, and when I do it I feel simply miserable afterwards even when I pop an allergy pill beforehand.

So now let me tell you about how our cat looks nowadays: She walks around with knots all over her fur, occasionally stopping to meow and pick at the lumps of matted fur that have developed on various spots of her body.

"Have you been brushing the cat's fur?" I'll ask my husband.

"I've been too busy," is his reply as he flips through the television channels.

"Will you please brush her out tonight?" I ask.

"Sure," he says, and then goes back to watching TV.

Sometimes he'll brush her, and sometimes he won't. I usually winds up taking the scissors to the tangles in her fur and cutting them out because she's obviously uncomfortable.

That poor cat didn't know what she was getting herself into when she came home with us.

My husband and I haven't been to marriage counseling for quite some time. I think it has been around six or eight months.

It's not from lack of trying on my part, but my husband's work schedule changed at the same time as our therapist's office hours changed, so it just became impossible to all get together at the same time.

In the meantime, our therapist became more and more interested in me. He didn't even attempt to see my husband anymore, but scheduled me for weekly visits.

I started to back off from seeing him because I got the distinct impression that he either a) had the hots for me, or b) thought I had some intriguing mental issue that he was going to cure and then write a PhD thesis about.

So I'm talking to my pastor about how I would like to get back into marriage counseling and he offers to see my husband and me for sessions. Those of you who have been reading my story for some time may remember that my husband and I started out with our pastor for counseling but wound up with the new therapist when we went beyond the scope of our pastor's counseling capabilities (translation: I tried to leave the marriage and my husband threatened suicide).

I was excited at the prospect of getting back into joint counseling, but when I told my husband he was not too thrilled.

In fact, if anything, he seemed really annoyed that I had asked our pastor for marriage counseling. It's as if our therapist's fascination with me meant that there was nothing wrong with the marriage...just something wrong with me. That means my husband's work was done. As soon as our therapist "fixed" me, everything in the marriage would be fine.

Guess what? I'm not "fixed."

A year ago I was on my way out the door, ready to end a relationship that had deteriorated into more of a roommate situation than a happy marriage.

A year ago I was, shall we say, a few pounds lighter. I realized this just the other day when I could no longer ignore how tight my clothes were feeling lately. I worked up the courage to weigh myself and yep...I had packed on 20 pounds.

I guess I could see this coming. My work schedule has been really hectic so I can't make it to the gym as much as I would like, but 20 pounds? Yikes! I already needed to lose a little, but now I have to lose a few — plus 20. That's no fun.

It was a big wakeup call. I don't take care of myself like I should, or at least I haven't been in this last year since I made the attempt to leave my husband and then wound up staying. Maybe I'm sabotaging myself, or maybe I just don't think I'm worth the effort anymore.

By the way, in case you're wondering, yes...I do analyze everything.

There's a theory that people gain weight intentionally — yet subconsciously — because they are trying to distance themselves from other people. I guess this makes sense. I stayed, but we certainly aren't as close as we once were. I still think about leaving every day. Maybe my weight gain is my subconscious effort to distance myself further from him. Maybe I'm trying to make him leave me.

Or maybe I just need to go the gym more.

A few months before I got married, my brother came to visit. We thought it would be fun to have a night out on the town.

Sidenote: My brother is two years older than me and we have always been close...he's my hero, and I always thought of him as an ideal man. I think a lot of little sisters idolize their big brothers, and I'm no exception.

The evening started out as a lot of fun. He and I and a few friends went to a popular dance club and had a few drinks, and after we all hit the dance floor it wasn't long before I realized I couldn't find him. I headed upstairs to the other dance floor to see if I could find him and there he was, kissing some random woman.

A describe her as "random" because she wasn't his wife. His wife — my sister in law — was back in our hometown, having missed the trip because she had to work. Yes, this woman on the dance floor kissing my brother was indeed random, and I didn't know quite what to think about the whole situation.

I stormed up to him and yelled, "What are you doing?!" Anyone who didn't know the situation would have thought I was his wife with how enraged I was. My friends didn't understand why I was so angry. After all, boys will be boys, right?

This was way more than my brother cheating on his wife, although that did indeed tick me off. What really freaked me out was that I was about three months away from getting married, and the guy who I thought was a great example to all other men was shattering my illusions right before my very eyes.

I yanked him off the dance floor and demanded, "Tell me now...is this what all guys do?" He replied with, "Yeah, every guy does this." It wasn't until I burst into tears that he hurried to add, "Well, not guys like your fiancé. He's different. I can tell."

He was trying really hard to placate me.

My parents were always very affectionate when I was growing up. It was almost embarrassing how much they hugged and smooched each other, but there was something cool about it because it was obvious that they really loved each other and enjoyed being around one another.

My husband and I used to be pretty affectionate — after all, that's what I grew up with so it seemed natural — but the worse the issues in our marriage became, the less affectionate we became. You would be hard pressed to see us holding hands or embracing each other for longer than a standard, "Hi, welcome home from work" hug. We're so distant from each other that showing affection seems weird. Sometimes, I just don't want him to touch me.

What is this conveying to my kids? I know people say that a separation would damage my kids, but what potential damage are we doing by staying together?

We don't scream at each other, but we don't portray a married couple who necessarily enjoys being around each other. I don't want my kids to get the impression that this is what a marriage is supposed to be like. I know that the example my husband and I set right now will have a lasting impression on our kids forever. I'm really trying to not screw this all up.

I owe some of you a big thank you. Sometimes when I post things here I do it because I'm not quite sure what to make of a situation, but sometimes I post things just because I think the situation is interesting.

Once in a while there is a comment or two that really makes me stop and think, "Hey, why didn't I think of that?"

A while ago I wrote about my therapist, and how he had issues with my husband and me getting marital counseling through our pastor. You might remember that my therapist was concerned that my pastor and I might have the potential to allow our relationship to evolve into something inappropriate, even though nothing inappropriate has ever happened nor has there ever been so much as a hint or inappropriateness.

I guess I figured the therapist must have seen something in me that I didn't see in myself, so I just took his word and really believed it. It wasn't until I wrote about this situation and the comments started rolling in that I started to realize that maybe my therapist was thinking more about himself than about me.

Maybe he was threatened by the thought that he might lose us as clients, or maybe he's just not a very good therapist. Either way, it was you all who opened my eyes that I might be getting manipulated.

I'm in a weird position. I'm trying so hard to fix everything that I probably would dance through fiery hoops if that's what my therapist said would help my marriage How in the world did I get so needy?

I have an appointment with a new therapist — a female therapist — later next week. If she tries to manipulate me, I think I'm done with therapy.

My husband is thinking about taking a job overseas for a year. His boss wants to send him to a place that would not be feasible for the family to follow and besides that, anyone who has been paying attention to the news lately knows that it's really not the best time to try to sell a house.

If he gets this position then he'll move overseas temporarily, with a vacation sometime in the middle to come back and spend about a month at home.

The kids will miss him like crazy if he goes, but in my husband's line of work if he doesn't go now he'll have to go eventually.

We both figure that if he goes while the kids are as young as they are now then it won't be as traumatic. We figure our son may not even remember him ever being gone when he gets older.

What a pickle. We've both been trying to work on our marriage, but if he goes away then everything will go on pause. We won't have anything figured out, and it will be a weird sort of pseudo-separation where we're still married but we're not living together.

I can't decide whether that will be a good thing or a bad thing. I'll admit that the thought of living without him for a year is pretty appealing, just because I won't have to deal with him. On the other hand, if he isn't here and present then how can we ever get everything figured out one way or another?

Maybe the time away will reveal that we're better off apart than we are together, or maybe we'll pine over each other like mad and decide that the marriage is worth saving. I don't know. Either way, if he gets this position things are bound to get interesting.

A few months ago I read a Newsweek article written by a woman who was in the middle of a divorce. She and her husband had both come to the realization that the marriage wasn't going to work, so while they still remained friends they knew that divorce was inevitable.

Instead of splitting up the household goods, working out a custody arrangement for the kids, and then going their separate ways, they still lived together in the same house they bought as a married couple. They had separate bedrooms, but they still maintained the home concurrently. The kids knew the parents were divorcing at that eventually they would be split up into two households, but until the house sells they'll all stay together under one roof.

I remember thinking to myself as I read the article, "Is this feasible? Can two people who are divorcing share a house and not be freaked out the whole time?" I figured it must be an exceptional situation, and didn't give it much more thought until a friend recently told me about her neighbor who is doing the exact same thing. Apparently they're afraid to put the house on the market because of the current real estate environment, so they've set up separate bedrooms and they've already filed the divorce paperwork.

Does anyone else think this is weird?

If I filed for divorce I would not want to live in the same house as my husband. Maybe it's different for me because my husband absolutely does not want a divorce, so it would be weird to live with him and deal with the whole, "Are you sure you want to do this? Can't we work it out? How could you do this to me?" thing that I would probably get from him every single day. Not being able to be physically away from him would be bizarre, considering the circumstances.