Hi Reddit. I’m new to this website, so please be gentle.

I (40F) and my wonderful husband Ray (35M) have been married for just over three years. He’s easily the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Sweet, funny, and incredibly thoughtful. Not going to lie though, the first thing that attracted me to him was his looks. Ray is legitimately one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. And it’s not just his face—he’s actually a professional fitness model! He gets paid to be buff and handsome in front of a camera all day. Talk about a dream job, right?

Something happened recently though. Something tragic. I hate even typing it out because it makes me sad, but… about three months ago, Ray got into a serious car accident and almost died. He ended up having to have one of his arms amputated. It’s been horrible on him. His self-confidence has been completely shattered. He can’t look in the mirror without crying. All the modeling agencies that used to go crazy for him have been radio silent. He hasn’t been getting any calls whatsoever. It’s nearly impossible getting fitness modeling gigs when you have a major limb removed. Even his followers on Instagram have been cruel to him. To say my husband is devastated is putting it mildly. Seeing him so miserable hurts my soul.

Yesterday was my breaking point. My husband hadn’t been able to get out of bed all day because he’d been crying so much. To see a big, strong man reduced to tears for hours at a time… it was heartbreaking.

I decided that I enough was enough. I was going to make him feel better, one way or another. It took me a while to come up with my plan, but once I had it, I knew what I had to do. I went to the store and bought the biggest, sharpest knife I could find. I crept into our bedroom while he was still laying in bed.

“Honey?” I said, trying to get his attention. “Honey, look at me. I have a surprise for you.”

Once he was looking at me, I did it.

I took that knife and buried it into my right shoulder. Blood spurted everywhere and Ray started screaming at the top of his lungs. “Honey,” I said as I sawed my own arm off, “it’s okay! Look! We’ll match now!” But for some reason he refused to stop screaming. He screamed and screamed and screamed. Even when my arm was finally detached from my body, he still refused to calm down.

It’s been a few hours since it happened. Ray hasn’t stop screaming. Whenever I try to comfort him, he just screams some more. Not going to lie, it kind of hurts my feelings. I did something nice for him—the least he could do is be grateful.

So yeah. All that screaming has made me wonder if I did something wrong. Tell me, Reddit—AITA?