I have been diagnosed with depression since the age of 14 and been on and off anti depressants all my life. My husband is dying with cancer. I want so badly to die but he needs me so I have to put up with the daily hell, on my own, because I can't leave him like this. Every day something happens, another problem to sort out. A phone call that needs time, time I don't have. I dread the postman coming in case its something else to worry about and ring around to get sorted. We moved from friends and family - to be honest we didn't have anybody on our side anyway so it wasn't a great hardship to leave them behind. We wanted our address kept secret. A relative of my husband's works in a hospital and abused her position to get our new address. Now she is threatening to tell people where we live. My husband chose to move here because he thought I could at least try to live after he was gone, away from interfering, trouble making relatives. Now they know where we live, I can't promise him honestly that I will try to live on afterwards. We have no life. He, because of this awful illness. We are prisoners in our rented flat. We may as well be already dead, it would be easier. My brother has already got plans for our property for when my husband passes and I kill myself, so much for family. I have tried the doctors for help. I eventually got to see a psychiatrist who said she does not look at people's history. I saw her 3 times, on the third occasion she said she was tired of hearing me go on about my husband's illness, she wasn't his doctor and could do nothing about it. She also said, after promising me from the first meeting that she would look at my medication and change it, that my medication didn't need changing and I wasn't depressed! Despite the fact that she hasn't looked at my medical records to see the depression and suicide attempts, how could she say anybody going through watching their husband die a horrible death isn't depressed? Another doctor promised to see me and get me a different psychiatrist, that never happened. Nobody cares about me, and I understand my husband is the priority, but I am coping with this alone and feel like I am on melt down and what use will I be to him then? I get sick of hearing my own voice. I rang the crisis team 3 times in the last two weeks and they did nothing. I rang the samaritans who were more understanding but really it is unfair to expect anybody to be able to help me. I don't want my husband to die. If he were fit and well I would be gone by now. I just feel so trapped and guilty and a horrible person. I have only one reason for existing and that is to care for my husband's needs as long as he is alive and I will do that but I need some help too, or am I being selfish?