I believe that my spouse was mentally ill, that's the only explanation that makes sense for why she treated me the way she did. I stayed in the marriage for as long as I did because I knew that I didn't have enough money to to get custody of my son when he was younger in a divorce. So I had to be the lightning rod for her crazyness rather than him. When I could no longer take it I initiated the divorce.
It was never completed because she came down with cancer and died. (I'm still paying off both sets of lawyers.)
Before that though my spouse kicked me out of my house, she told me that she would continue to push my buttons until I did something for which she could call the cops. So I left but of course, I still had to pay all of the household expenses. So I moved into the YMCA because none of my Fuck Head so called "friends" would let me move into any of their spare rooms. I lived at the fucking Y until my stuff, like iPod and wallet were stolen out of my fucking single room there. Then I knew that I had to find somewhere else to live, a studio apartment. Of course during that time my funds were stretched to the point that I had to sell my blood plasma for twenty bucks a liter to be able to buy something to eat. Mostly I ate vegetables like cabbage, potatoes and ramen noodles. Certainly not a happy time.
BTW, even though she treated my badly enough prior to the divorce, that I considered suicide every day on the commute to and from work, I still loved her. Obviously I didn't pull that trigger. I felt that I had to live for my son, otherwise I would not be here to write this today.
When she had nobody to assist her when the cancer got bad, her family wouldn't come to help her, I did.
As crazy as it sounds, I still feel that the pain that I caused her with the divorce process will haunt me to my dying day.