Three inches.  It only took three inches to push me over the edge.  Three lousy tiny inches in a 12' X 14' room.  Writing this reminds me of just bizarre my life has become.  Anyone who has read through these many posts will find the highs and lows of the past year of my life.  There's been much laughter and even more tears.  There's been births and deaths.  There's been growth.  The one area I just can't seem to make growth in, is growth in acceptance of the weed that has grown in this home.  This weed just takes.  Demands.  Gives nothing back.  No shared knowledge.  No joy.  Not even a pretty smell.  Just takes, takes, then takes more.  Never saying thank you.  Never saying please. I've prayed.  It hasn't brought comfort.  I've thought of moving out.  I've been asked to stay.  I've finally hit the wall you hear many joggers talk about where you just become depleted and have no more to give.  Three inches.  It only took three inches.  The weed has won.  I no longer call this home.