limited desire

it's unfathomable to me that i sit here tonight, in the spare room, where i have been for 3 months now, thinking that i might have reached my limit. i pride myself on being one of those people who can handle anything. the girl who can withstand pressure and pain, and do it without becoming a martyr. hell, i've been raped, had cancer, been through a divorce, dealt with the death of too many friends, and still, if anyone were to come to me needing anything, i would be there.
for the last year, my husband has been facing depression beyond compare, coupled with two hand surgeries, a death in his previous family, and blow after blow in his personal life. i moved away from my family so we could find peace in this great state, have a life of our own, and provide the opportunity for growth and healing. what we have found, what *i* have found has been the antithesis of that.
it started small: first it was "i need this bathroom to myself" so i got shut out of the master bathroom. okay, no big deal, i get it. then it was, "i need some time with you alone so we can grow together" so i arranged my work-at-home schedule so he had my undivided attention. then it was, "i can't handle it when you travel" so i resigned my senior position at my firm so that i would not have to travel. then it was, "i am depressed and when i get depressed, i need my own space" so i moved into the spare room. he hasn't showered in almost 6 months. seriously. the master bedroom, now *his* room, is a mess. trash, cigarettes, old food, dirty clothes everywhere. i can't stand it. i've never been comfortable in that room since we moved in since i can't clean it (it makes him anxious to have me "hover" and open and close drawers, etc.) and can't have my music or my light or my time in the room. ever since we moved in, it's been his place to be, and i was not welcome. even before i moved into the spare room, when i came to bed, he got up. we have had sex three times in the last 4 months. part of that is the showering thing. part of it is that he doesn't feel "safe" unless he's alone. so ever since day one in our new home, i have been pushed out.
we had an agreement, since this is a rental, that he wouldn't smoke in the house. but when he was recovering from surgery, he asked if smoking in the master bathroom with the window open would be okay. i agreed. then it became, it was too cold to have the window open, he'd smoke in there without it open. okay. then he spent so much time in there (6-8 hours a day) that he got edema in his legs from sitting on the toilet to smoke. so i agreed that for a short time, until he got to feeling better, he could smoke in the room. that's when i moved out. even though i am a smoker too, i hate the lingering stale smell of cigarettes. he has shown no sign of stopping that behavior. and the clothes in the drawers i can't open stink.
i can't do laundry or dishes when he is in his room because it makes too much noise. i walk around my house on egg shells because i don't know what kind of mood he is going to be in. i dread hearing his door open because it either means i've done something to piss him off, or he needs me to do something that he thinks i should have thought about before.
but then, i miss him so much, that i listen intently for movement, thinking, that at some point, he is going to come to me, apologize for being an ass, and finally hold me the way i need to be held. or he will come to offer to do something like join us for dinner. but i sit here waiting, and have no inkling of whether that will ever happen.
the people that know me tell me to make him leave. even his best friend has told me that. he has lost business opportunities, friends, money, family relationships, and who knows what else, by being locked in his room all the time. but the only time he comes out of the room is when he knows my daughter and i are asleep or gone. and if he does come out when we are home, it is to complain that there is never anything to eat, or we are being too loud.
i am at my wits' end. i avoid having conversations with anyone who knows me because they all know him, too. and i am aware that i am very depressed and he is the reason, and if they all knew that, they'd tell me to make him leave because he is dragging me down. i know he is. i know that the right thing to do for my daughter is to ask him to leave and get better and then come back. but here's the thing: he has no where to go, and no one to help him. and if i kicked him out, he'd probably kill himself and i'd have that on my head.
i am aware no one is reading these blogs, and that's probably a good thing, but i really wish someone out there who didn't know us would offer some advice. i need someone to tell me what i should be doing to help him. everything i have read tells me to let him deal with it and be here for him when he is better. but when is that going to be? it's been two years since we met again, and we haven't had more than a string of 2 days that were good. every single day is a struggle. every single day i question what i am doing.
i don't know what tomorrow will bring. i haven't seen him emerge from his room in 3 days. i have been sick for a week now with the worst migraines i've ever had. but i still have to get up, work, clean (quietly), and care for my daughter. i have no one to hold me, rub my head, and tell me everything is going to get better. for one thing, anyone who knows him, knows that it probably won't get better.
i feel guilty even writing about this. i feel like i should be doing something to help him get better. but at this point, i am lonely, i am sad, i am desperate. i want someone to hold me. i want to feel someone's breath on my neck. i want to feel wanted, not needed. i don't know if i will ever feel that way again. i feel trapped. and i have no one to talk to about it...
ugh.