I've been really stressed lately. It's coming to a head with the kids starting school. I lay in bed this morning thinking about myself, my life as if I were watching a movie. And i looked down on this woman (me) who gives and gives and gives and gets so little in return, and I wanted to cry. (I virtually never cry). Then in the shower I realized how angry I am, how resentful at the hand I've been dealt. Why do I have to be the responsible one all the time? I have 4 difficult kids. My husband does not have the mental skills (he's too rigid) to deal well with them. He retreats into computer games. He thinks I'm so fat that I'm no longer attractive, so we haven't been intimate in months and months. He's got a girlfriend on the side. We have friends who come by every week. Only one pair is married, and none have children. My sister is close to me but unmarried with no children. I'm surrounded by all these people with no responsibilities and here I am drowning in difficult kids, difficult husband and no support. My parents are ok, well-meaning. Somewhat inconsistent, and extremely critical and manipulative. They live about 6 hours away. This summer I've kind of unoffically broken things off with them, being polite but never seeking them out and not visiting. My inlaws live nearby (there's 4 of them as they divorced and remarried) but one set the husband is Aspergers-y and his wife is overwhelmed and depressed and can't deal with my kids, and the other is self-centered and interfering and her husband is elderly and can't deal with my kids. I realized I've been shoving everyone away. The kids are doing fairly well, so I've been retreating more and more into books, napping. I hardly talk to my husband (not the silent treatment, just not making any effort). I stopped going to church, so I could have some time alone, and because there's one or two people there who give me grief about missing Sundays. When the single friends come over I retreat into my room to read or go online. I only talk to my sister about once a month. And I realized this morning that I'm ****** at all of them. ****** at my life. Angry that no one is giving to me. (how could they; I shoved them all out of my life). So, so ****** and it was buried so deep I had no idea I felt that way. Isn't anger a stage of grief? Am I grieving the loss of the life I thought I would get? If so, How the H**l do you move on to the next stage, because, frankly, this one sucks!