Sometimes I’m worried that I killed someone

Major trigger warning here for medical issues and death. This is very very personal in my heart so please be gentle with me. Ive told this story before on here when I was really grieving bad but I need to talk about it again.

I was dating a guy who had a severe heart condition, he shouldn’t have lived past infancy but he did. He had multiple heart surgery’s. Because of his heart condition, his heart sometimes couldn’t pump enough blood to his brain which caused seizures. And then of course, the seizures were a major strain on the heart and it put his life at risk which meant anytime he had a seizure we needed to call 911.

When I was dating him he was doing psychedelics, drinking alcohol and smoking weed. I made him completely stop taking psychedelics, because it was illegal and it scared me, and he was okay with that.

He started having seizures, and everytime he had one it would not only be more severe but then he would have multiple seizures in a row. After you have a seizure you’re in a state of confusion so the doctors would talk to me about it. They asked me if he drank alcohol or smoked and I told them the truth, and the doctors told me the weed and the alcohol were doing this, and that because of his heart condition this could kill him. Like this doctor was very stern with me and said “if he does not stop drinking and smoking weed he IS going to die. Do you understand this?” And I said yes. It got bad, like really bad y’all. I’m taking 5/6 incredibly violent seizures in a row in one day and we had a huge fight about not drinking anymore. For a while I really thought he had stopped. But he was doing it behind my back. He wasn’t only just drinking behind my back, I found out he was also still doing psychedelics. No matter what I did, what I said to him, he would not stop. I even got his friends and family involved and informed them of what the doctors had been saying.

And I would explain to him, “you are going to die, the doctors told me if you do not stop you WILL die.”

The last seizure I witnessed was so brutal and he was choking on vomit and turning blue and I had to pick him up, hit his back and dig vomit out of his throat while on the phone with 911 BEGGING THEM to hurry. I was terrified that I was watching him die. I literally have flash backs about this night because it was taking them so long to get to us. He had the face of death and I know that sounds stupid but if you’ve ever seen it you know what I’m talking about.

Our last fight was “I am not watching you kill yourself. I’m not doing this anymore, it’s traumatizing to me and I’ve tried to help you but I can’t do it anymore. He did not take it well at all.

4 months later he is found dead in his apartment. The autopsy revealed He caught the common cold, and had a seizure. His heart was not strong enough while he was sick like that and he died. He sat there alone and dead for 4 days before his mother busted into his home and found him like that.

Sometimes I genuinely wonder if I broke his heart, and that’s what killed him. Because he had been sick before, and survived all this time. Why is it only after me? Did I break this man’s heart and kill him? It probably sounds ridiculous but I really think about this stuff. I feel so guilty about a plethora of things. I should have been there, he died alone. Maybe if I had been there he wouldn’t have died. I have tremendous guilt.

People have told me that if I had stayed I would have witnessed his death and been more traumatized by that because he wouldn’t stop doing what was hurting him. But I feel like what if I had been there? To call 911 and get him help and what if I made a mistake by leaving him and it caused his death? I think I need therapy.

Why did this get downvoted? And thank you to y’all that have been very helpful ❤️ I’m taking what you say to heart