PLEASE HELP ME!

Mrs. A is crying, and her voice quivers as she talks. “I guess what really got me was that when I got home he was there. He was still up, and he said he had to get some sleep. I said, ‘All right,’ and asked him if I could talk with him. He said he didn’t want to go to sleep in bed, but wanted to sleep on the couch. I said, ‘All right, if that’s the way it has to be.’ I said, ‘Isn’t there any chance at all for me?’ He said no. He keeps asking me why I’m making it hard. I told him whatever he decides, I’m not going to stand in the way. I told him that I wanted him—I was honest—that I didn’t want to lose him, but if he decided that he wanted her or if something fell through with her and he still didn’t want me, I could accept it.

“He said, ‘Even if it fell through and I came back to you, I’d probably think about her the rest of my life.’ And I said I could even accept that. I know I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I just didn’t realize things are as bad as they are. Whenever I thought things were bad, he’d say things are okay. I’d say, ‘But they are not for me.’ But he’d always say they are going fine for him. I guess I just didn’t understand.

“I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to know if I had a chance. I told him that I thought he really didn’t know me, and I thought I ought to have a chance with him like she has. I thought I’d have a chance to be myself around him, and he said he’d give me a chance, but that didn’t mean that there is a chance for our marriage to work or that he would want me back.

“He slept on the couch, and I went into the bedroom. It just—it hit me all at once. I have to do something. It hurts too much. I can’t stand it.”

Mrs. B is talking in a very matter-of-fact way, almost as if she were talking about someone else. “My husband still has a lot of doubts about things. He still feels like he can’t trust me. I don’t feel like I can go back to him as long as he feels that way. Yesterday he said he still has his doubts about whether things are going to work out for us or not. I really tried to show him I mean what I say, but it doesn’t seem like anything I’ve said or done helps matters any.

I don’t know what’s going to happen to the kids. I’m getting to where I can’t stand them, especially the youngest one. It’s the way he cries all the time. I feel like I could smash in his head sometimes. It’s terrible. I think they should take him away from me before I really do hurt him. …

“I see their daddy every day, but my mother says he is just using me. I suppose he is, but I don’t know what else to do. I need some attention, too. Mother thinks I should tell him he has to stay away and I should just stay home and be with those kids. He gets done at the office late, and I wait for him and go for a drink. I don’t really care about it—I just do it to please him. I think he is getting a drinking habit that I’m not really crazy about.

“For me, I’ve been thinking a lot about what to do. It’s all on me—him, the kids, my mother. It’s too much for one person. At least it’s too much for me.”

Mr. C is quite tense and talks quite rapidly, with a cutting quality to his voice. “Well, I’m about ready to give up. It’s like this. I can’t find a higher-paying job, and the job I have now I got sick at yesterday. I had to go home. I had a splitting headache. Things are beginning to stack up on me.

“I’ve been working my tail off, and now my daughter is running with some white boy. I’ll kill that son-of-a-bitch if I catch him messing with her. I was having a drink at a bar the other day, and I saw this white man with his hand and mouth at this black girl. I asked him to lay off, and he asked if I wanted to fight. I broke my hand on his face. I think I’m cracking up. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m losing it; God help me!