I just want to say a few things before I start.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Doesn’t mean “I don’t care if you DIE, and won’t care if you DO.”

And if you on the off chance know who I’m talking about and know who I am I literally do not give a fuck what you think. I am being 100% real in this.

My ex had serious health problems, he had a congenital heart defect and he was really sick in the months we dated. I have talked to someone who’s a professional and only helped me bc I am family but I am starting to think I need to speak to someone for real. I know that I did everything I possibly could have, and I am not to blame.

Let me explain.

We started dating months after he had a major heart surgery that replaced a valve in his heart. He was healthier than I think he ever was in his life, and I did not think anything was wrong until he started having seizures again. He had seizures really bad, and his heart problem made those seizures a 911 emergency because they could stop his heart. They stopped after his heart surgery. The seizures were due to the fact that he didnt have good circulation to his brain.

All the sudden he’s having them again. And it started with one siezure, then two.

Then up to 5 in a row, and they were getting more violent as time went on. His doctors were telling him that alcohol and psychedelics and weed were making his seizures worse and inducing them. I ended up having him agree to stop drinking and stopped myself too but he would not stop doing psychedelics and weed. He would do them when he wasn’t around me. He went off with my brother one day for a whole day and while he was with him ate a whole bunch of shrooms and only told me because when he came back home he was still tripping. It was stuff like that that upset me.

Doctors were also telling him “something is very wrong, and you need to stay and be hospitalized.”

After he’d have 5 seizures in a row. He refused to stay, so I’d wait for him to come out of seizure delirium and begged him to go back.

The last time I went with him to the hospital, I ended up having his heart surgeon and his neurologist contacted and they wanted to keep him. This is when I begged him to go back, because I had talked to that hospital and asked if they’d still hospitalize him if he came back without having seizures and they said yes.

This caused on of our biggest fights ever, because a doctor came to me and told me “he has something serious going on and I hope you know what it can mean if he keeps refusing to listen. He NEEDS to be here.”

And I was so stressed out I felt myself shut down after this fight. I told him I refused to watch him die.

I got ahold of his friends, family, and I tried my best to explain to them what I was being told. I did every single thing I could have possibly done, and I had this horrible feeling, and I walked away.

This wasn’t the main reason we broke up, I had multiple reasons, but that moment i shut down after begging him to listen to doctors really… I think that was the end for me. I couldn’t keep doing this. I felt like i was watching him die. After seeing the seriousness of the doctors face. Something really uneasy set in and I told him “this is traumatizing me, to watch you ignore this is traumatic to me.”

To have medical issues is one thing I never judged him for that, but to ignore them and refuse doctors orders and know it’s getting worse and just expect your partner to carry the load of whatever happens. I still kept up the best I could through his friends, because I remind you, “I break up with you.” Doesnt mean “I don’t care anymore.” I very much cared what happened to him. He and I both had new partners. It did not matter, I still fucking cared.

He died in his apartment alone due to basically presumed heart failure 3 months after I broke up with him. He laid in his apartment dead for 4 days before his mom beat his door down and found him.

When I found out, i was on the phone with his best friends wife* so I found out when they did. I don’t remember anything for 2 days after that. I was in a complete state of shock, I remember getting up and not being able to breathe and walking out of my mothers house and that’s it. 2 whole days I do not remember.

I am struggling very hard to deal with his death. I have a lot of anger and guilt that i am sorting through, I’m convincing myself that there was nothing more I could have done to help him if he was refusing medical help. My family member told me that I would be a lot more traumatized if I had stayed while he continued to ignore doctors and I had to watch him pass.

But I just can’t. I cannot deal with this.

It is on my mind 24/7 and i cant sleep because of it.

People are acting like im not supposed to be affected when taking care of him was literally my entire life just 3 months ago, and I knew him as a close friend before we started dating. A few of his friends understand me, but some of them didn’t even want me at the funeral so i didn’t go because i felt unwelcomed.

I just needed to get this off my chest and tell someone somehow. I’m so bitter that he didn’t get the things he wanted out of life. And I feel guilty to be happy about anything in mine.

And I just want to add that I have no idea if he drank or did any psychedelics after I broke up with him.