I had supported my SO for 4.5 years through her severe depression.  Multiple rounds of ECT, all kinds of meds, Ketamine injections, etc.  She didn't want to have anybody see her in her deep lows, she got an apartment to "escape to".  I ended up getting us a house with 2 masters for us to move to so we could be under the same roof but she could have her space.  She ended-up getting another place anyway, because she wanted to force herself to have responsibilities (when we lived together she said she didn't have an incentive to do anything).  Her depression meant no physical contact; I'm not just talking sex, but she couldn't even hold my hand.  She didn't want me to plan dates because she didn't want the pressure and then disappointing me if she wasn't up for it when the time came.  She tutored special needs children and didn't want potential clients to see her personal life so she asked that I take down my website which had some pics of her on it and that I set my social media all to private.  It got to where we would see each other maybe 30 mins a week and I'd get a text maybe ever other day with a "struggling but resting" message.  She didn't feel well enough to goto my mother's service when she passed, she couldn't get herself out of bed to make it to my son's birthday, she wasn't up for moving my daughter into college, she couldn't get out of bed to meet my father the one time he came to visit since I've known her.  I saw first hand how her depression took the life out of her, so I made excuses for her to everybody.  I asked her many times if she wanted to just be friends since we didn't have any intimacy - every time she told me she loved me, was attracted to me, wanted to be with me and wanted to work on our intimacy.  That kept hope in my mind and made it easier to put my needs on hold for all these years.  Well, a month ago she sent me a text that she was committing suicide but was scared.  I sped over to her place and found that she locked and duct-taped herself into her bathroom.  She had taken a bunch of sleeping pills and Xanax and had a charcoal grill going in there for the carbon monoxide.  I busted down the bathroom door, took the fire bowl out back and then called 911.  They took her to the hospital and after they got her stable the admitted her to the psychiatric unit.  When I was there with her in her bathroom waiting for the EMTs to arrive she called my by another name.  I figured it was all the pills she took.  At the hospital that night I was let in to see her before she was transferred to psych and she told the doc they didn't need to keep her but could release her to that same name.  Seemed like too big of a coincidence.  So I did something I had never done - I looked into her phone records (I paid her cell plan).  What I found led down a rabbit hole.  Come to find out she was in a serious relationship with an other guy on and off since she moved to the condo - in fact they slept together the first night she was there.  And he wasn't the first boyfriend - there was at least one more "serious" one.  And apparently she was also getting wasted and picking up random guys and sleeping with them, without protection - sometimes multiple in the same night.  The reason she didn't want anything of her visible online is because she had dating and Ashley Madison profiles going.  The reason she didn't want to go on dates is because she was afraid of running into some random guy she had hooked up with (she had even joked with her friend that she had slept with most of the men in our area code).  Apparently there were nights where she was having sex with some random dude and would get a text from some other random dude and leave and go to the other.  All the while I'm at home by myself, feeing lonely and in dire need of some human interaction, worrying about her mental state.  I care so much about her that even after I found all of this out - I didn't want her being released and going home to her bathroom in the state she left in it and getting PTSD, so I replaced the door and frame, put a new cabinet it, patched and painted where the duct tape ruined the walls and ceiling, and cleaned her place.  I talked to the parents of the kids she had tutoring with to let them know she was sick but would be back to lessons soon, talked to her mom and had her come down to be there for her when she got released.  I did those things because I thought they were the right thing to do, not taking anger into account.  I've been doing no-contact since she was released and working on healing but it has not been easy.  I know her depression is real because I saw it.  But she used it and the fact that it gave her a free pass against me.  Of course I'm at fault for not making my own needs a priority, for not keeping boundaries and for never questioning anything that others may have seen as red flags.  I thought I was supporting somebody who really struggled and needed help, but turns out I just a gullible fool.  Part of my healing is understating my own worth, making myself a priority and learning to set and keep boundaries.  I am hurting but still just want her to be happy and healthy.  I just know I can't be part of her life anymore.  And, even though I never wanted to discount somebody because of something out of their control - I don't think I could handle a future relationship with somebody who struggles with deep depression.  I do think I have a lot to offer somebody and I have learned so much about depression I know I may be able to do some good - but this relationship has damaged me too much.  I think I would question what is real and what is a lie, which is not fair to somebody else.  Anyway - I know that was long.  I have gotten a lot out of reading posts on this site over the years while I was supporting somebody with depression.  I want to thank y'all for that.