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This is my first time posting on a thread or a board, or whatever it's called, but I'm desperate for someone who may understand what I'm going through. My ex-husband was a severe alcoholic, needed a medical detox every time. He was in treatment 4 times and his dr. gave him meds to self-detox at home as well. In Nov of 2009, I found he'd taken 111 vicodin in 9 days, plus ambien and klonopin. We were together for 18 years and I'd dealt with it the entire time, but our kids were getting older (they are now 8 and 11), so I told him I needed a divorce because I didn't want them waking up to find him dead.

The divorce was ugly and he lied to his family about the reason for it. He called me in Sept of this year drunk and suicidal. I drove him to tx and the kids and I visited every weekend. His mother and sister were mean to him, his mom told him not to come home for his birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's, so we had him over for the holidays.

He relapsed again about 4 weeks ago, and I texted him to say he needed to call his sponsor. The last contact we had with him was that Friday, when he and our daughter spoke. By Sunday, he still wasn't returning phone calls and I was getting worried so I went to his apartment. He was dead. It was horrible. The kids don't know what really happened, I just tell them I don't know why Daddy died. My son is so ANGRY and my daughter just holds it in. I have such guilt for not seeing how badly he felt (no job, mom and sis were horrible, kicked out of school for relapsing, divorce, etc).

At one time we were best friends, and I have an ache in my throat as I type this, just thinking about how alone and depressed he must have been feeling, to take his own life. I hate that the boy I married is gone, forever. I hate that I'm stuck dealing with the kids emotions and having to stuff my own feelings of guilt. I'm so ANGRY and BEYOND sad that he is gone. I never stopped caring about him, I always worried about him but I had to put the kids first. Our divorce became final January of this year.

When we drove up for the service, I found out his mother was telling everyone I killed him, and his sister drove to his apartment the day after we buried him and took everything out of his apartment, even the toys my kids left there to play with. Today is Mother's Day, and for some reason I'm super emotional today. Probably because every Mother's Day he would bring me breakfast in bed, I just realized that. It was always the same, an omlet and coffee.

I miss him so much, I never realized how good it felt just knowing he was there. I was so ****** at him the last time I saw him, because he wasn't paying any child support. He came to the house to drop the kids back off and I wouldn't let him in the house. I just took their stuff and he left. He had a huge smile on his face, as if to say, "can't we just be friends anyway?" I will never forgive myself for that. I miss him and I wonder where he is now. I hope he's at peace but my faith tells me that suicide is a sin against God. He was so depressed and lonely, I find myself praying to God to make an exception for him. Has anyone out there gone through this? Please give me some answers!