My experience after six months

I'm getting worse. The love of my life ended her life half a year ago. I was diagnosed with MDD and I'm on venlafaxine, quetiapine, seroquel, reagila, lorazepam and lamotrigine. Each psychiatric appointment I get a new pill and I'm not getting better. I have been on a flat sunken line for three months but lately it's completely unmanageable. I attempted twice to end my life after she did and I had two suicidal crises in the last two months. There's another one incoming - swear to god I'm not going to win this battle. I lost all will to live. I got addicted to benzodiazepines. I have never even smoked in my life. Six months and I'm realizing this is it - this is how it's going to be for the rest of my life and I don't have the feeling she is going to be home any second anymore. Reality is setting in and I'm confident this is the root.

I don't know how I am supposed to keep going on. It does not get any easier and the pain hurts just like the beginning. I'm grieving the kids, the pets, the trips and the house we did not get to have. I don't even think about the future anymore because I don't see myself in it - I try so hard everyday for my relatives but it's more difficult each day. I live in constant agony expecting the next crisis. Dissociation is pure horrror and there's this part of me saying this is my life and I can choose to be with her at any time. I have tried everything - individual grief therapy, grief group therapy, said psychiatric medication, I'm working more than eight hours a day, I found a widower network and actually spent holidays with some of them, I'm traveling like I have never done before and gone out of my comfort zone. I accepted her suicide because her illness was incompatible with life. I have never blamed her. I did everything I could for her. My only problem is her death and it can't be fixed. Life without loving and being loved is not worth living. My life now feels like end game content. That's all folks, bad fucking luck, you reached too high.