I wasn't sure what thread to post my story under. I don't even know if writing here will help as I feel like I can't breathe and I don't want to be here anymore. On September 10th, just two days ago (two long days ago) my husband died a death nobody should have ever had to suffer through. Our marriage wasn't perfect but he was a great dad and husband and he loved hard. We were supposed to be moved to a temp rental this weekend while our home finishes being built by the end of October. He struggled with depression and anxiety sometimes and we argued like every couple but that night it went all wrong. You see I had a bad childhood and I have a lot of insecurities. We drank, me not much but he had drank a bit more. We started arguing over daisy dukes that he had looked up for his 11 year old daughter. I said he could have told her they were short shorts and had her look it up but he instead looked up many sites to show her. I got upset we argued I left the house and sat in a parking lot for a couple hours and came back. Harsh texts were sent between us while I was gone until he blocked me. When I got home I just wanted to go to bed. He didn't say a word to me. I yelled some words out of anger some of the last words I ever said to him. I got into bed and covered myself up he yanked the covers off me and we started fighting over the covers I said get your own I don't want to share with you tonight. I would give anything to take it back. Then he rolled on me on my side of the bed so I went to his side of the bed. He wouldn't let me lay down he would stop putting his hands on my legs. I said stop touching me. Long story short I got the cops when he wasn't being violent only bc I threatened to and he taunted me because he was over drunk. I canceled the call three minutes later devising I would sleep in my daughters room knowing we would be fine in the morning after he slept it off. I told him i canceled, he had me locked out of the bedroom when he was in there with his son. They wouldn't open the door to give me pillow or meds. Then the knock came. The cops I told him they would want to talk to him. The cops entered and said they would help get my pillow and meds and leave. They got in the bedroom he wasn't there. He had put himself in the skuttle in our closet, the hot skuttle, drunk and in his underwear. He had his gun in there though he never threatened anyone. He wouldn't come out. Over the span of six hours the police threw 6 cans of tear gas into the tiny space, they said from the start they would call swat and cut the wall to get him out they never did. At some point his gun went off. For hours me and my kids could hear him moaning and banging which I know now was a cry for help. He could t find his way out on his own. There is an investigation, it involves GBI and is going to internal affairs. I know if they had done things different my husband would be here. But I also know if I never made the stupid call for something so dumb he would be here so I feel like I killed him. I took him from me, our kids, his family. I have no answers. They say it will be weeks before investigation is done. I have to find a lawyer but lawyers don't want to tie on the police. I don't feel like loving but I have to find justice for him but I hate myself. The guilt is eating me alive. We were a blended family and started over and now our 14 month old son will never have a father. People keep telling me I have to take care of kids, I have to get moved I have to eat I have to do this that ....I don't want to wake up each day. I have nothing left.