My husband's friend from the military brought this group up months ago, and it just crossed my mind so here we are.

Hello, Redditors. I am a 24 year old mom and wife from Wisconsin. I guess the term now would be widow. My husband of 6 years, partner of 10 and father of my two boys took his life last week after battling PTSD for over 4 years.

Matt deployed to Iraq twice in our marriage, and shortly before returning home from the second one was forced to make a decision that he was never able to recover from. He suffered violent nightmares and a constant fear he would hurt one of our babies.

We begged VA medical systems in states spanning the entire western half of the U.S. for years to help him learn to cope and forgive himself. They longest they'd ever keep him for was 7 days.

I don't know why I feel the need to constantly tell people this, but he never would have hurt us. He was so afraid he would because of his mental "breaks" he would suffer, but my husband was the most gentle, loving human being I ever had the pleasure of knowing. I loved him more every day I spent with him, after falling in love at 14 years old the moment I saw him. We never did have our "first big fight" , the most we had ever argued was when he felt absolutely betrayed that I'd eaten the tops off the breakfast muffins out of spite (he would eat his from the bottom up, saving the best part for last).

5 months ago we made the decision to sell everything we owned and take out massive loans to pay for him to go to a world renowned medical center in the MidWest, our biggest attempt thus far, and now it has become our last attempt.

My son called me at work on Saturday evening. He is four years old. I answered and expected his dad, but it was my oldest baby. He said "Mom? Dad... Daddy has a really bad ouch".

I always thought I would know if something happened to my husband, the moment he "left". As terrified as I have spent my last 4 years of receiving the "call", I was blindsided by the next 5 minutes of my life.

"What do you mean babe, hand the phone to your dad".

I heard my son take a few steps and then what sounded like someone choking. I picked up my office phone and dialed my neighbor. She answered, and I immediately just spit out, "Mary, go check on my family. Go check now, please".

I heard Mary gasp and what sounded like her running. I immediately began to scream, asking her what was going on. I barely heard her say that minutes ago she heard what sounded like a gun shot, but assumed it was a car or fireworks.

My husband died shortly before I got to my home, shortly after the first responders arrived. It feels like I am dying piece by piece ever sent.

If you suffer from PTSD and the fucking VA suicide hotline won't answer for you, message me and I will give you my number. I will always fucking answer. If you have a veteran in your life, ask them how they are and study their face when they answer. When someone has decided the pain is too much, there is nothing you can do to change that. But you can love them and be there and allow yourself the comfort of knowing that you did everything you could after they have gone. If you've never suffered losing someone to suicide, I pray this monster never touches your life and that you find it in yourself to not judge the people who escape their pain the only way they knew how.

My husband wasn't suicidal- he didn't want to die. But life dealt him a hand that he never recovered from, and he took his life before he would ever be faced with hurting someone again the way he did it on Iraq. I know it will get easier, but I will never fully heal from losing him. But, if given the chance to do it all again, knowing how it would end.. I would be 14 again, working at a bakery with a girl who had a really, REALLY cute brother who came to see her at work when he got home from boot camp.

22 veterans a day is 22 veterans too many.