Motivation

It's hard for me to get motivated.  Gotta pay some bills.  Get some stamps.  Do some cleaning.  It's SOOO hard for me to do it at home.  At school, I get stuff done.  Here, it's like an invisible vaccuum sucks out all of my hope and keep me from moving.  It is the most bizarre thing.  I feel lethargic.  I feel overwhelmed.  I feel like crying.  I think that I am suffering a form of depression here in my home.  I dread him coming home.  I dread having to make small talk of any sort.  I hate fake.  Despise it.
He was upset that I didn't want to go to a missionary meeting with him last night.  He wants me to still live his life.  I am not that willing anymore.  I want to putter on my home.  Paint my kitchen.  Paint my bathroom.  Regrout.  Fix up the ceiling.  Replace the bulb.  I want to lay on my bed on the porch and simply be.  I want to actually live in my home.  But I'm frozen.  Kept from producing.  Don't get to choose.  Kills me.  Hope not literally.  But, sometimes I worry for my health because of the extreme amounts of stress that have been put upon me.  Without outlet.  Without the undeniable support of family.  I will be fine.  I just have to make it...love my kids.  God has granted me this long, I pray for longer.  Then, I pray to be free.  But, sometimes, I wonder why I wait.  My one son asked me that about 6 weeks ago.  Why do you stay?  He doesn't treat you well.  Sigh.
He's cheap.  He's narcissistic.  He's prideful.  He's mean spirited.  He's pitiful.  And he covers it all with a laugh and charm.  Now I'm shaking again.  How will I ever survive?  What will it take???  How can I do it???
I bawled this afternoon.  A teen wet his finger and wiped off my mascara later on.  I wonder if he knew that it was from crying.  I hope not.
Now I sit here.  Waiting.  Dreading.  Any minute.  He'll walk in.  I don't have anything to do.  Nothing to make me invisible.  Trying to work here makes me open to comments.
He is growing a garden.  Keeps the chickens out.  There are those tears again.  Why do I have a sense of wanting to salt water his garden on the sly?  That's not me.  I wouldn't really do it.  But, he has been such a complete a hole about my garden all of this time and it's like he rubs my face  in his doing it.
Ok, when contemplating getting mad and doing something about it, I feel a spark of life.  But, I want to keep the peace for five more frickin years.  aaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!NNNNNNOOOOOOOOO!!!!!