the reason my wrists are still in tact

Reasons One and Two for still breathing today are my two children, six and seven years old, who I feel too guilty and responsible to leave. I love them more than life itself, as unhealthy as that may be, but they are the only reasons I have. I wonder when my life became so pathetic: when did I become a prisoner of my own grevious errors. I wish I could teach a course on what a waste of precious time it is to live trying to meet other's expectations--what a blasphemy it is to make every decision for someone else's acceptance. How do you tell others that life drains away while you are trying to be the person the world expects you to be? What can I do to keep others from drowning in the misery that cuts off my air and chokes my spirit (whatever is left of it)? No one listens, no one cares, no one knows until they examine their own life and realize, my god, how do I go on? How do I enable my own consciousness every morning without love, purpose or self-respect? Well, I have dishes and laundry to do--again.