I will preface this by saying that my case is very extreme. I don't know a single soul who has gone through something like this. No one in my immediate life, or circle, can provide anything even remotely like support. I have tried grief circles, counseling, but my case is treated like something exotic and unfamiliar. I was turned away at a doctor's office, because they said I needed to take myself to an ER. I have no intention of doing anything, it's just too much to handle alone right now.
On September 17th, 2025, this month, my wife of ten years took her own life.
The circumstances are crushing me.
Her and I parted, temporarily, on September 2nd. She remained in one province, while I went to visit family in another. We both went through depression for a long time. But things were getting better. This wasn't an end to our marriage, just supposed to be time to take for ourselves. I went to my hometown. Helped my aging grandmother. Things like this.
I keep ruminating on it. While I was out, visiting relatives, friends, going places, she was spiraling and I didn't know. I didn't know how bad it was for her. She messaged me the day she passed. She said she loved me, told me to make sure I was eating and taking care of our cat. Everything seemed normal. She and I bought meals for each other remotely.
It wasn't uncommon for her to stop answering messages for a day or two. I accepted it when I didn't hear from her on the 18th. But on the 19th, I was checking her gmail. She often forgot to clear her spam emails, so I'd do it for her. There was a scheduled email in her outbox addressed to me. Starting with 'when you get this, I will have passed'...
I called her local police. I called and I called and I called. I thought I had time. I thought the scheduled email meant she intended on doing this sometime in the upcoming week.
Only to find out I was two days too late. She was already gone.
Sometimes it feels like I'm dying. Something I feel nothing at all. Sometimes I can't even think about eating, let alone consume anything, because the meal in front of me will remind me of her. Sometimes I can talk about what happened, plainly, without feeling a thing. Like I'm discussing the weather. It makes me feel like a robot. I don't know how to process it. I don't know how to properly grieve her. I feel evil for not feeling anything right now. Like being able to tell people what happened, when it's such a horrific extreme, is abnormal.
I've had so many people ask me if I'm angry at her. I'm not. If I have any anger in me, it's for myself.
I don't have anyone to talk to. She and I were very lonely people, who largely only had one another. Her family is estranged. But her mother called me when she found out. She was screaming. She blames me for what happened. And I can only agree. I should have been there. She wouldn't have been able to do this if I'd been there.
Nothing feels real anymore. We've been together since we were both 18. Knew each other since we were 16.
She's my joy. My everything. And I couldn't love her enough to save her in her darkest moment. I wasn't reason enough for her to stay, and I wasn't good enough to be there when she needed me most.
