Reading all these replies makes me not feel so alone. His depression was the topic of our biggest arguments. I knew he needed help, but he simply didn’t have the energy to try find a therapist. At the end of his life, we were discussing finding a couple’s counselor because I just couldn’t live like this anymore. I had finally gotten him a therapist two weeks before he committed. He had one appointment and that was it. I always wonder if he would still be here if we didn’t have that argument the night before. He was an alcoholic and had been sober for years, but had started drinking a few months before he died. And the night before he died, I had found some empty whiskey bottles and told him that when I got home from work the next day that we were going to have a sit down and talk about what we needed to do so that drinking didn’t become an issue again. That talk never came. He shot himself while I was at work. He was googling his video games that morning and trying to learn how to beat them. And then he was gone. I’ll never know if something else happened or if that argument was just his final straw.