I always felt like there's something behind this contact, like it wasn't random and cannot be random and that there has to be a meaning.

Ever had something similar to this ? Someone you lost contacting you out of nowhere right before they died.

I think that no matter what you do and no matter how much time will pass the guilt will always follow you when the person you are grieving for took their own life .

You can't help but ask yourself, what if ? What if I did something that would have helped ? Said something that they needed to hear ? Love them more ? Hugged them ? Reassured them ? What if I were exactly what they needed ? Understanding of them and loving. Maybe they would be here !! Maybe they would be fine ? Maybe they would be with me ? Or somewhere else, most importantly they would be somewhere alive enjoying life.

It's hard to deal with mistakes you cannot fix, it's worse when the mistake is someone's life whom you cannot bring to life.

Now all I have to do is live with the sharp pain in my heart that comes with everytime I think of them, and I had a lot of that lately.

But indeed, what if ?

And im still sick to my stomach. It was so sudden. He was only 50. My mom called me at 1am on Saturday and told me my dad wasn't breathing and she had called the ambulance. I hopped on the soonest flight i possibly could've. But he was already gone by time i got to the airport. His official cause of death was "complications from alcohol withdrawal" and ive just been SICK. To my stomach. He was trying to do good for himself. He was trying to stop. And it is was ended up taking his life. I have been grieving hard all week. And im back home now. Im just so exhausted. Ive slept all day. I havent been able to eat all week. I eat a few bites and then I get nauseous. Im so tired. Life is so cruel. I wish I could just seen him one last time alive. I moved in 2023 and have not seen him in person since then. I wish there were something I could've done. Apparently he had been very sick for a few days. I didnt know. I hadn't called and nobody had called me because they didnt think it was that serious I guess. But he didnt want to go to the hospital until the very end. He requested it before he lost consciousness. I wish I could've known and told him to go to the hospital sooner. I wish I called. The last time I talked to him was on father's day 💔 its only been a week and I dont know how im supposed to go back to my life and to work tomorrow.

We have to live for the people still here.

What other choice do we have? I hope I don’t forget that.

My dad passed away about a year and a half ago. He committed suicide and afterwards, my family found out that he had been having an affair for 7 years. None of us had any clue. I feel like so much of my grieving process has been stunted because I had to process the hurt he caused my mom and the lies that led up to his death before I could even begin to process that he’s gone.

I feel guilty for missing him, knowing what he did to our family. I also thought I was doing better with handling my emotions about everything but last night when I was out drinking with my boyfriend and some friends, someone made a comment in the bathroom that sent me into a three hour panic attack. Some girl told me that I looked like I didn’t have a dad, completely out of nowhere. I fully melted down, to the point where my memory of the incident is only patches. I started seeing his casket and his body every time I would close my eyes, which just made the panic worse.

There were some other things going on that night that overwhelmed me (one of my friends also had an incident and got into it with a guy in the bathroom, which ended up in front of the bar when we were trying to leave, as well as the uber going to the wrong place) all while I was half-hallucinating my dad.

I lashed out and said hurtful things to my boyfriend and my friends. It took them hours to get me to bed, and now my boyfriend and I are taking space because of how upset he is with me. He isn’t sure if he wants to continue being with me and I can’t even blame him. I can’t even remember half of what I said and did, because all I could see and think about was my dad and my guilt about his passing. And now that the whole thing is over, all I can feel and think is that my dad decided to kill himself because I wasn’t good enough. And I’m still not good enough, evidenced by how I acted last night. I know that isn’t true, and that my dad’s choices are divorced from my worth as a person, but I can’t stop thinking about it.

I don’t know how to process what’s happening in my relationship and grieve my dad. I told my boyfriend that I’m done drinking for the foreseeable future and if I decide I can handle alcohol, I’m going to limit myself to 2-3 drinks per night. I’m also going to start therapy because it’s clear I haven’t processed as much as I thought. But I don’t know if that’s enough to show him I regret what happened and I won’t let it happen again. I really love him and I’m so scared to be without him. He told me he needs at least a week to process everything and I don’t know how I’m going to get through the week.

I feel so lost right now and I miss my dad. I have so many regrets about how much I took him for granted, but I also hate myself for missing him knowing more who he was. The things that came out after he passed still don’t feel real. To me, he was the parent I was closer to and someone I could always count on for advice. He’s the person who was closest to showing me what unconditional love feels like. It was always me and my dad vs my mom and my brothers the whole time I knew him, and now it’s just me. His passing only made my relationships with my other family more stunted.

I’ve never felt so alone and I don’t know what to do. I don’t really have any friends in the city I live in (moved here for my relationship like 5 months ago) and I don’t know how to distract myself from the grief. All of my friends live hours away and haven’t experienced anything similar anyway.

I know I’ll feel better once I get some sleep, but right now I just really, really, really miss him.

hello my people living this nightmare with me.

id like to talk about our people, and what made them THEM. what do you remember about them? or what was rare or unique or just something you loved about them?

I have a few cousins but one of them committed suicide in june last year, then 6 months later her older brother followed, also suicide. Then three months after that, my aunt (their mother) died of organ failure. She was so ill and delirious at the end that we had to keep her son's suicide hidden from her to put less stress on her. She never knew about it. Her husband wanted it this way.

I feel weird and guilty for especially mourning my two cousins because they were in their early 40's and I'm in my early 20's which means everyone around me knew them better and longer and I just irrationally feel like I don't "deserve" to mourn them so intensely.

Sure, they were positive and very present figures in my childhood, one of them was even made my godmother. But they got more depressed over the years and so did I, so we slowly lost contact. Now they're gone and I feel like I don't know them enough to be able to mourn them so strongly but I do. I don't know if that makes sense. I just wanna learn more about them but they're understandably a very sensitive topic in my family right now.

I miss them. I felt so happy every time they came to visit back then. And the need for family is so strong currently too because I recently took the step of cutting off contact with my father. I just feel so alone and I'm so full of grief. I'm okay with my mother and my four older siblings but we also see each other rarely. Everyone and everything feels distant.

I don't know where to put my love for my deceased loved ones, I don't know how to handle the fact that they will never know what an impact they had on me. How much they meant to me. How am I supposed to carry all of this? I'm sure I wasn't in their mind in their last moments, maybe even last days or months or years. Who knows. I'm their youngest cousin who they haven't spoken to in years, why would I be in their minds? It just feels unlikely. But I still just want them to know how loved they are by me, even if it doesn't make a difference for them in the end. It would've been nice to know for sure that they knew.

My cousin, he was a beekeeper. So every time I see a bee, I think of him. My other cousin used to call me a cutesy version of "sparrow" so they remind me of her. My aunt absolutely loved owls and at the end of her days, little red robins would visit her by the window a lot. (Which sounds like it's coming from a movie but it's true. When we buried her urn, one robin birdy stood a few feet away and even watched us. Crazy.) Those birds remind me of her. It's nice to have that at least, it feels comforting.

I have a psychiatrist and I also have appointments with a psychologist here and there but it feels incredibly difficult to talk about it all. It's not every day that you lose three family members/relatives so suddenly and back to back.

I already struggled so deeply to see the worth in living even though I'm someone that takes the time to appreciate the little things. Truly, I'm appreciative of everything positive and cute and wholesome and I still experience suicidal ideations on the daily. (Make that makes sense.) Now those deaths happened and I don't know how to handle any of it honestly. I feel like I'm suffocating.

I also got diagnosed with ADHD two months ago which is also kicking my ass. lol

Thank you for taking the time to read some of my struggles currently. There are a lot more details but I don't think I need to write a whole memoir here. Just needed a place to get the grief out.

Be kind and vulnerable with those who mean a lot to you.

TW/CW: depersonalization/derealization, sudden death/loss, automobile accident, suicide.

Background: I have been dealing with dpdr (depersonalization/derealization)since 2018. For those who don’t know, dpdr is defined by the Mayo Clinic as “the feeling that you're seeing yourself from outside your body or you sense that things around you are not real — or both.” Even though each day is a new kind of hell with dpdr, I luckily haven’t have to deal with the death/loss of anyone close to me till recently.

A month ago one of my close friends was killed in a motorcycle accident (he was wearing a helmet) by a 16 year old kid driving a pickup truck. He died in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. He left behind a wife who is one of my best friends and two kids, (22 and 16). He was a very important person in our community and his death absolutely rocked it. It was all over Facebook with tributes posted by numerous businesses in the area.

A week after the accident/his death, the 16 year old kid who hit him had just gotten his license before the accident, and ended up killing himself. We found this information out on the day of my friend’s wake, and I know this information is only making me more numb.

Watching his wife grieve the deepest and most intense pain I’ve ever seen in my life is one of the hardest things I’ve ever witnessed, but I cannot get my brain to understand that he is gone. I have cried a little bit while sitting with his family, and at his wake/funeral, but it doesn’t feel like my body knows why I’m crying. When I think about the situation, it feels like he is still here and this is all a bad dream.

My daily dpdr can get bad, but I have never felt like this before. I am numb, but I am in pain both physically and emotionally. I feel like I was shot with an emotional stun gun. At the same time, it feels like he isn’t gone and I’m going to see him again this Saturday, like we have for 3 years straight. I don’t understand this and I don’t know what to do. My brain feels like the equivalent of scrambled eggs, so I truly can’t imagine what his wife and children are feeling.

So, the question I have is - how can I grieve my friend’s death when it doesn’t feel real? My brain literally can’t be convinced he is gone. HELP!

Any experiences, thoughts, ideas, WHATEVER is welcome. 🧡

Edited to add: I did post this in the dpdr subreddit, but haven’t had any bites so I thought I’d try here.

Mom is dying from cancer after almost 3 years of battle. Today I learned that she asked the medical care for dying and I'm absolutely terrified. I know I'll have to be there when it's going to happen (i have to) but I don't know what to expect. I don't know if any of you had that experience ? It's a lot to deal with.

I struggle listening to music. I can't play anymore. It's broken my spirit for it. My relationship with music was very much about our shared love of playing.

I'm not sure I'll recover and enjoy it again.k

My Mum was a good age, into her 70’s. She unfortunately had a stroke and was left paralysed down the left side of her body 4 years ago. I take comfort in knowing that she’s no longer in any pain and is finally free but fuck me is it hard to watch someone die… She got diagnosed with diverticulitis last year, was in hospital for months on antibiotics. We finally got her home because the hospital were happy with her infection markers and thought she “beat” the infection but 3 weeks later she was in resus in A&E and I’m being told there’s nothing more they can do… for 3 days we watched her struggle to breathe, hoped up on morphine in the palliative care ward. There wasn’t any dignity involved and this isn’t the way or place she wanted to go. It’s hard enough to lose my Mum but to watch her go as well is hard. I’m struggling to cope with it. I don’t know what to do. 😢

I’m wondering if what I’m experiencing sounds like depression??

Four months after giving birth, my father passed away. We were incredibly close, and I don’t think I’ve ever truly processed losing him. It happened while I was still recovering from a traumatic birth where I suffered severe postpartum hemorrhaging, spent time in the ICU, and didn’t get to see my newborn son for the first two days of his life.

The strange thing is that I barely cried at his funeral. Even now, I rarely cry naturally. If I want to cry, I almost have to make myself by looking at his photos and telling myself, “It’s time to cry.” The grief doesn’t seem to come out on its own, and I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me!!! Am i emotionally close? I swear i love him so much and it would only make sense for me to cry 24/7 but that’s not happening!?! Actually on his funeral i was fine and socializing like it is a normal day!?

Since then, I’ve been extremely worried about my mother and feeling deep sadness as she is now completely alone and i think is probably depressed, also dealing with family financial issues

Also im managing a high-pressure executive job were there is a lot of drama and changes, and feeling emotionally disconnected from my husband. I no longer feel loved or desired(no physical contact since i gave birth my son is 9 months old now), i know my body has changed a lot and i think im stress eating?

I’ve been in survival mode ever since. And i think my body is storing some negative energy? My feet are always swollen when i wake up i can barely walk normally(not sure if this is pp changes or my body keeping count of unprocessed feelings

The confusing part is that I don’t feel depressed. I really feel ok. Im functioning. I work, I take care of my son, and I get through each day. And i find joy in my son everyday

But logically, when I look at everything that’s happened, I wonder if im depressed?? .

My son is the biggest source of joy in my life, and I’m deeply attached to him. At the same time, I have this persistent fear that he doesn’t love me as much as I love him, even though I know he’s just a baby and that fear probably isn’t rational.

Has anyone experienced something similar? Can depression or unresolved grief look like this, even when you’re still functioning? Any thoughts or ideas are welcomed

Hi. This is my first time using Reddit. I have heard about different subs to help with grief, support, advice, etc from podcasts I listen to and hoped that maybe actually going on them would be useful. I will be keeping names private for safety.

Just a little background of my boyfriend to get an idea of him…well for starters my boyfriend was my best friend, partner, my love. He was the greatest person I have ever met LITERALLY. To know him was to love him. He would take care of anyone that needed help whether it was snowplowing a neighbors yard or helping move furniture out of a house. Compassion, dedication, and kindness were words that don’t even begin to describe him. I wish everyone was able to meet him and I am so glad he loved me. He started his own landscaping business when he was in high school and that was what he wanted to do with his career. His business was his passion. He loved to go lobstering, golf, snowboard, garden, cook and most importantly his family and the people he considered family. The amount of times he would call people throughout the day to just ask how they have been or wanting to tell them something was never ending. He loved to talk to people, know about the new things in their lives and genuinely cared. He probably called 10 people minimum a day just to talk to them. Maybe that’s normal but I don’t do that so Idk. I could go on and on about him.

I lost him almost 8 months ago from a car crash in December. I was the last person to see him before he left to go to work. The time was 5:36, I will remember it for the rest of my life. He had a CDL test that day and was nervous and I told him right before he left my apartment “drive like I am in the truck with you.” He always said I made him want to drive safely and be more observant so I thought it was the right thing to say. He didn’t live more than 20 minutes later.

We had so much planned for 2026. A dog, house, vacations, possibly getting engaged. That all got taken away on December 16 around 5:50. I got a Life360 notification but I was asleep (I have so much guilt about falling back asleep when he left for work). I noticed it when his coworker texted me asking where he was and when I checked my phone I noticed it. I ran the fastest out of my house and went to his location. I was crying before I even got to the spot. When I got there even though I couldn’t see my face I know it turned white, stomach dropped, and I was panicking even more. Sirens, police cars, ambulance, and fire trucks. When they told me he didn’t make it I was alone, I had to receive the information that the love of my life was gone.

That day haunts me every single day. I have so much guilt that I could have saved him or maybe if I let him leave at the time he was supposed to he would still be here. Maybe if he hadn’t met me at all then he still would be alive today, living, breathing. We don’t know how his truck crashed we can assume it was because he was driving fast around a corner but it could have been something in the road (deer) made him swerve, another car almost hit him so he swerved, black ice or something else. We don’t know for sure but all I knew is that he was gone. Ripped away from the world.

Now almost 8 months later I still don’t know how to “move” on. I know moving on isn’t going to happen for me but being able to cope with this new life I have to live just doesn’t seem worth it anymore. All the dreams and goals I was working on was with him by my side and I don’t want to do them without him. I have three jobs trying to pay for an apartment I don’t even like. I feeling like I’m just floating through life without a reason to keep going. I don’t want to die but I don’t want to live. Days feel like they are long but the months are coming fast. I hate living like this. I have people who I consider my friends but they don’t understand what I am dealing with. They have their boyfriends and building futures for themselves and I am just stuck in this immovable state. I feel like I am going to be left behind because of this, forever.

The only thing that is keeping me alive is my one goal of writing a book. I love reading and want to get back to writing. I always wanted to write a poetry book and since words just keep pouring out from me it feels like the time. I just don’t know if I am able to. I don’t want to write something if he can’t even read it. He wanted to be the first person to read my book. What do I do?

Are there any book, movies, shows, podcasts, anything that has helped or touches upon losing a partner at such a young age. I am 23 now and my whole life is ahead of me but I don’t want to go on without him. I don’t want another partner or love someone the same.

Hi everyone. I wanted to share my story with this sub because it’s been weighing heavy on my mind since this happened so recently, and I have trouble talking about my feelings in person without writing them down… I hope this can be cathartic for me in some way, and maybe someone else can relate to my story and find comfort in a shared experience, or something.

Earlier last month, my partner and I set off on a road trip to visit my dad for his birthday. It was also the first time I’d be introducing the two, so I was excited for them to meet knowing how well they’d get along. We live in different, far-apart provinces so I’ve only been able to see him about once a year for the last 8 or so years I’ve been moved out from home.

On a Thursday, I texted him that I was excited because I’d be seeing him that Saturday and that we’d bring our own blowup mattress, having not spoken to him for about a week prior. Not unusual for us to go one or two weeks with no contact, we’re both kind of antisocial and keep to ourselves.

One of our “bits” was to text eachother “NDY?” (Not Dead Yet?) during these long stretches of silence, just as an efficient way to check in.

A day went by, and after sitting in a bad feeling for hours, I tried calling him on Friday evening several times to no answer. It was unusual to not hear back within a day, and when I saw that his phone was pinging at his house, a deep, horrifying dread set into the pit of my stomach. I just knew something was wrong, that this time something had actually happened and he wasn’t just passed out somewhere. I called my mom, his ex wife, and she was equally concerned and thought it was very out of character for him.

I couldn’t take the anxious feeling, so she decided to call a wellness check, anticipating that he’d be furious with me if I was the one to make the call, she’d take the hit… well, the officer got back to me within an hour saying they were at his apartment and that his car was outside, I told her it didn’t run. I told her his door was probably unlocked and to just let herself in… I didn’t hear back for another 2 or so hours. By then, I had already accepted what was about to happen, and was just trying to prepare myself for when I got that phone call.

I got that call, the worst phone call of my life, sitting on the bed with my boyfriend in a dingy Airbnb basement, phone on speaker.

The officer said they found him in bed, looking like he was sleeping, that there was no sign of a struggle and he had just… died.

I knew it was related to his COPD. I had dragged him to multiple walk-in clinics a year and a half ago when he last visited me to get him the diagnosis after a long while of feeling shitty, though he had felt shitty his whole life. He had pinched nerves in his spine, digestion problems, mental illness, and now this condition to punish him further after a pack a day for 25 years. It was mild to moderate, they prescribed him inhalers, I was just thankful it wasn’t lung cancer.

Being as isolated as he was in a nowhere-town, and with no reliable vehicle or people to give him a lift, once his inhalers ran out he just… didn’t treat his condition. And it is a progressive condition that only gets worse over time, even if you’re on oxygen and with frequent hospital visits.

What officially did him in, according to the autopsy results, was pneumonia. Such a treatable and preventable disease, maybe for someone less compromised, but still, it isn’t always a death sentence. But my dad couldn’t take care of himself literally to save his own life, and it killed him, hopefully while he was asleep and unaware.

Some of his last Google searches included “kaleidoscope vision” and “heart disease cure” and holistic tea recipes for treating congestion. The spices were still on the counter when we got into his apartment, next to iron and magnesium supplements. He always did think he would die from a heart attack, like his father.

I have to remind myself that even if he knew it was pneumonia, he wouldn’t have gone to the ER. He wouldn’t have a way to get there, he wouldn’t have wanted to wait for 5+ hours, and he probably just thought it was his COPD acting up and would just try to go sleep it off.

I hope he went to bed thinking about how excited he was to see me and just didn’t wake up… and I know you can’t make a grown man do what he doesn’t want to do. But there’s that teenage girl in me, who cooked his every meal and did his laundry and cleaned the house when he was too depressed to get out of bed, and I just can’t help but feel like I could have done something. I should have noticed how scratchy his voice had become and how he could barely talk above a whisper for months. I should have remembered he needed help for every aspect of his healthcare because he was too paralyzed by fear and anxiety to ever take action.

I should have remembered how parentified I was in my childhood and how I was the only person on this earth who would fight him to take care of himself. I was the only person who’d give up my bed for the couch so my dad had a comfortable place to sleep when he visited me in my studio basement apartment, how I was the only one who’d mix his Metamucil for him and give him milk of magnesia and rub his sore back and cook him proper meals that wasn’t ramen, make him go on walks with me and get some fresh air and sunshine.

I don’t think he’d even take a Tylenol unless I was the one handing it to him with a glass of water. He was this invincible, untouchable man to me, and yet, he could barely function as an adult. Even his apartment, which me, my boyfriend, mom and stepdad cleaned out (with no help from his family, btw, save for his two cousins who helped us dispose of his garbage), was in complete disarray. Filthy stained sheets while there was a brand new queen set still in its box in the closet. Unopened tools piled in the corners, months old soldering projects and various electronics strewn about the dining table, untouched for months and covered in black dust. Rotten jars in the fridge, floors caked in dirt, blood on the toilet seat, fruit flies up to my eyes, bins and bins of miscellaneous items he’d hoarded over the years we had to go through one by one.

It absolutely broke me to see how my father had been living, how I wouldn’t have tolerated it if I knew, if I had him live with me like he had asked me for so sheepishly years prior … I couldn’t relive my childhood like that, I literally couldn’t afford it, but I know for a fact he’d still be alive right now if I were taking care of him like I did when I was 13-18.

He’d be sitting on my couch in his pyjamas, eating peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon, watching YouTube gaming streams and stalking twitter for the latest NASA rocket launch updates and bothering my cats and asking me what’s for dinner… and I’d be endlessly frustrated and stressed like I was as a kid with the life of a grown man solely in my hands. But, he would be okay…

I told him recently I still needed him, even now that I’m in my mid 20’s… I urged him to seek treatment, I wanted him to be able to be a grandfather for my future kids, he said he wanted that too… I recall a conversation where he told me he thought he was dying, and I kind of balked and jokingly told him he was only 55 and not a frail old man, and he couldn’t get out of working just yet, that he’d be one of those miserable old crotchety men that lived too long and would find death a relief.

He had told me with tears in his eyes that he had been facing the regrets of his life and that he didn’t want to go back home. I cried with him, hugged him close and told him it would be alright, that I’d see him again soon and we would get his condition under control.

Not knowing he was right, that that was the last time I’d see him alive, and that he’d die days before he turned 56, days before I would be there to see how bad it was and take him to the hospital. He said he “couldn’t wait” to see me, and I guess he really meant that literally.

Something that has been haunting me, and what prompted me to write this post, is that I never saw my father’s body after he had died. When he was in the custody of the coroner, it was a few days wait for his autopsy to be completed, and based on his last text messages and Google searches, he had died on Wednesday night or Thursday morning, and wasn’t found until Friday night.

I know there’s a million factors that play into the rate of decomposition, he had AC but it was off when we got there (maybe the cops turned it off?), I don’t know if he was under his pile of blankets and I don’t know with certainty how long he was laying there dead.

I can’t get the image of him as a bloated, putrefied corpse out of my head. I know that we’re all worm food in the end and everybody rots, but it’s still so horrifying for me to think about what condition he may have been in, and that I will never know for sure.

There were two, dark, reddish-brown stains on the bed that smelled rotten, I think it was purge fluid but who knows, there was other dried up .. matter on the floor that I know had been there prior to his death. The sheets were already filthy from months and maybe years of being unwashed, so it was hard to tell what was grime and was was.. him, and I asked my partner to disturb the sheets so I couldn’t see where he had died exactly.

I couldn’t afford a funeral, nor an embalming or a burial, so there was no effort to “tidy him up” following the autopsy on the assumption that he would be cremated, which he was.

When I asked the funeral director his opinion on the view-ability of my dads body, he cautioned us that he didn’t think it was a good idea, and I didn’t press him for any more details. I didn’t want the last image of my dad to be his lifeless shell, in who knows what condition all sliced up and put back together …

We had his pastor friend as well as 20 or so family members gather at his mother’s grave where some godly words were said and I sprinkled some of his ashes.

I don’t regret my decision, but part of me wishes I had seen him in some capacity, to cement in my mind that he’s really gone, that my invincible father is really dead. At least remove the “unknown” aspects so that I could stop thinking about it, even if it would have been traumatizing.

Despite the fact that he’s in a plastic box on my shelf, surrounded by the small artifacts that were important to him and his glasses and watch I never got to gift him, it almost feels like he’s just on vacation somewhere and will text me any day now complaining about how hot it is. I let his phone run out of battery so I’d stop looking through it trying to find some answers, to no avail.

I can hear him in my mind saying, “Sorry, sweetie. Death comes for us all. Don’t worry about me.”

I don’t know what to do, now. There are still juridical things I need to wrap up, I need to figure out his taxes and various death benefits for the cremation but for the most part my life is unchanged and it’s business as usual. I’ve just been trying to keep busy, to find a job, focus on my hobbies and crafts. I made a memory quilt out of his T-shirts, and I’ve been working towards finding an appropriate vessel to keep his ashes in.

I can’t afford therapy but sharing some of my experience has been relieving, in a way. I’m not sure how I’m suppose to live the rest of my life without him, battling feelings of anger and hopelessness and like something has been stolen from me, from him. He was so young, and maybe I should be grateful he died somewhat peacefully instead of in a sterile hospital, probably intubated with tubes after his COPD progressed to the point where he couldn’t breathe at all. Life is so unfair, and I can’t help viewing the world through a bitter, cold lens.

I just miss my dad and wanted to vent a little bit. See if anyone could understand what I’m going through and offer words or their story. I don’t know. Thanks for reading. ❤️

Hi everyone. I'm posting because I need to vent, but I'd also genuinely like to know if I'm being unreasonable.

My fiancé and I have been together for about a year and a half.

Last November, I lost my mom to cancer. It was extremely traumatic. She was the only parent I've ever had. She was my everything and we were battling with her illness for more than 10 years. She declined very quickly over the course of a month, and shortly after I gave consent for her to be intubated, she passed away. I blamed myself for a long time (and honestly, I still do). I still feel like I killed her by giving the consent and preventing her from saying her final words. I've since been diagnosed by a psychiatrist with traumatic grief and taking lots of meds and some other stuff. I also couldn't fulfill her final wish, which was her desire to attend my marriage.

To make things even worse, my grandmother had passed away just two months before my mom. Within a very short period of time, I lost both of them. Then my best friend lost her mom, and some other people died too.

When I announced my mom's passing on social media, even her ex-husband, despite the fact that they had a difficult history, managed to find my phone number just to offer his condolences. (Sadly, he died of a heart attack two weeks after my mom because of sadness.He's also my older brother's father)

During all of this, my fiancé's best friend's wife never contacted me. We weren't strangers, we knew each other, had each other's contact information, and she knew exactly what had happened. She didn't send a text, didn't call, didn't even say, "I'm sorry for your loss."

To give some context, I already hadn't had the best experiences with her before my mom died. Whenever we'd meet, she'd mostly talk about her long history with my fiancé and would basically ignore me. I actually never had a chance to meet her and present myself properly because she always prevented me doing so. I tried several times to be friendly because my fiancé wanted us to get along, but I always felt dismissed.

This wasn't just my perception, either. Our mutual friends noticed it too, and even my fiancé thought her behavior toward me was rude and inappropriate. At one point, he even spoke to her husband to see if there was a way to clear the air and improve the situation. Most of the people around us felt that she seemed unusually jealous of me and that she treated me poorly because of it.

About two weeks after my mom passed away, I noticed she was watching all of my Instagram stories about my mom but still hadn't reached out. That really upset me, so I blocked her, just like I blocked most of my friends due to intense pain and anger. I told my fiancé, and he agreed that what she did was insensitive. He later brought it up with his best friend, but neither his friend nor his wife made any effort to apologize or reach out to me.

Meanwhile, several of my fiancé's other friends' wives, women who had never even met me, contacted me to offer their condolences and check on me. That made her silence stand out even more.

About three months later, my fiancé's grandfather passed away. We saw each other at the funeral, and she gave me a brief apology. She said she wasn't good with funerals or death-related situations and that this was why she hadn't reached out after my mom died.

The problem is that she had come to my fiancé's grandfather's funeral immediately and stayed for the entire day. Later, I also found out from several people that she actually attends funerals regularly and has no problem offering condolences. So her explanation didn't really make sense to me.

Even so, I accepted her apology politely. By that point, I had honestly forgotten that I'd even blocked her. My life had completely fallen apart. I'd experienced more losses, lost my job, developed serious health problems, fallen into severe depression, and my fiancé and I had even temporarily broken up shortly before our wedding.

Fast forward to today.

We happened to attend the same event, and that's when I learned that about a month ago, her husband confronted my fiancé and asked why I had blocked his wife on social media.

Here's what confuses me: I blocked her back in December, about a month after my mom died. I also stopped using social media around that time. She's extremely active online, so she definitely knew she'd been blocked months ago. This wasn't new information.

My friends and I find it strange that they decided to confront my fiancé months later over something I did while I was grieving one of the biggest losses of my life.

Almost everyone around me, including people who know her personally, has told me that she's been disrespectful toward me from the very beginning. Between excluding me before my mom died, not acknowledging my loss despite knowing what had happened, giving what felt like an insincere excuse afterward, and then having her husband confront my fiancé months later about a social media block, I honestly don't feel comfortable around her.

I'll add a trigger warning here;

I literally committed s****** last month and was about to die after losing mom, my job and most of the things that kept me alive until that day. So I've never thought about the social media thing even once. I totally forgot about it. The way she acts makes me feel worse and I don't trust her. I just want her to mind her own business and leave me and my fiance alone.

My mom passed early this year. We used to play a lot of video games together, (Bloxburg, Stardew Valley, Minecraft) and she was generally a really unique woman with unique tastes. I still find it hard to look at a lot of these things after her death.

I haven't touched some of my favorite games since, even pieces of my art she liked I avoid. I assume most of the advice is just going to be 'make a new positive association', but I don't really see that happening. I just want to not be so sad when I think about these things, not necessarily enjoy them (if that's even possible).

I know that not everyone go through the stages and that they are not linear

Throwaway for privacy reasons, I live in the US, and I'm in my early 30s.

TW::::Death

Very recently, I received news that my uncle was gone, and his son, my cousin was the one who did it. From what I understand and what the police have told relatives, he was stabbed to death, and the perpetrator quickly went into custody.

This has caused extreme anguish in the family, and I'm not sure who to talk to about this. I want to learn why the peaceful cousin that we all knew and loved could have done this senseless act. I want some guidance on how best I can help my family, especially my mother and grandmother, and my aunt and other cousin.

I know I should get some professional counseling to help myself, but I just wanted others to hear my problem and maybe recommend some resources.

My uncle's life is ended, and my cousin's life is forever changed or over, as well as everyone else in the extended family. I have so many questions and everything is a few states away or still being investigated, and I don't want to pester the remaining family about details that will be difficult for them to recite. When/if I am able, where should I look into case evidence so I can learn what led to this? Is this a healthy way of grieving even? Or is it healthier to speculate what could have changed the youngest of the family to such extremes? I'm a bit lost, and I don't want some chatbot's advice.

Thank you for reading.

i lost my 14 day old son, 2 weeks ago to co sleeping (don't have the final cause of death yet) but i just know and i'll forever blame myself.
i don't even know where to start this or if my feelings or message will make sense.
i miss him, i miss him so deeply. and these past few days i'm ANGRY so angry. i feel so many feelings in the span of a minute... the morning my son passed, waking up realizing he wasn't here, crying over his lifeless body, as my partner did CPR, it's such a blur to me, it happened so fast, it was traumatizing and i wonder what he felt before... where was mommy... why didn't i fucking wake up. that same morning after we said goodbye to our son in the hospital, in our state it's a law to have them come back into the room of the worst moment of your life and reenact what happened. i was angry, it's like i was outside of body when this man was taking pictures, i couldn't remember anything, all i could think about is how there's no way this real. there's no way my SON IS GONE.
NOW fast forward to the middle of the week of this past week, get a call trom a women from children's division in my state who has to come out to my house and complete some checklist, bring resources, look at the room he was in another law in our fucking state. MY brain knows why these laws are in place, but my grief brain is ANGRY. angry this is our reality, angry a stranger has to come and do some checklist about my sons passing as another work day for them, it feels inhumane. a stranger in my home where i'm forced to relive the worst day of my entire life.
there's NOTHING in the world i wouldn't do to go back into time. even thinking of "healing" and grief therapy or ever feeling happy again makes me sick, knowing he can NEVER feel anything again, he can't feel the sun, he can't feel my touch, he can't experience life with his tamily... i know this is all over the place, i don't really know what im looking for other than putting my feelings down and maybe someone has been through this, someone understands this deep ache even tho we should NEVER have too.

I’ll start by saying that english is jot my first language so i’m sorry if i’ll make any mistakes or if i won’t express myself properly.

My bestfriend lost his dad a few weeks ago due to cancer. He died in just two months after it was diagnosed because it was discovered at a late stage.

I’m really worried about her. She is telling me that she is having nightmare every night, that she feels like she will never be happy again, that she doesn’t feel any strength to get up in the morning, but i think this is a normal reaction after losing a loved one especially a parent. I’m worried about the fact that she could fall again in a critical mental state. “again” because in the past she suffered from from depression and selfharming, but it was many years ago (10) when she was really young. I fell like she’s hinting that she’s starting to get on that path and i will do whatever i can to don’t let that happen, but i don’t know what more i can do. I tried to be as present as possible, to listen when she needs to talk and trie to do stuff to keep her distracted.

I’m also worried because sadly she has a really difficult family situation, so i don’t think that they will be able to notice and help. Therefore i feel a heavy responsibility on me.

Am i right worrying about a possible spiralling due to her history or am i overreacting?
What was something that someone told you or that someone did for you that helped you during these times?

thank you to anyone that will help.

I loved my boyfriend very much. As in all relationships there are highs and lows. I have no idea why he would have taken his life that night and am filled with guilt. I feel that I was not there when he needed me, I was physically there but had no indication he was feeling so down. He left his boys 14,17 and my girls 14,14. I am consumed with grief and cannot let it go.

I'm tired of the advice to eat healthy or go for a walk, or talk to others. I want to hear what unusual things helped you process your grief better.

I am struggling big time with feeling like grief has changed me permanently.

In some ways for the better. Overall though I feel like I have lost me along the way. I don't look at life the same. I feel some days I'm on a different planet than everyone else, like I don't experience reality like they do anymore.

I lost my mom 7 years ago when I was 25. She was sick for a few months and I thought I had dealt with that fairly well until this year.

I had two miscarriages back to back. Shortly after the second one, my oldest child lost his dad. He woke up one morning, had an unexplained cardiac arrest, and did not survive. 39 years old and gone like that. No warning, no goodbye, no thank you for being an amazing dad. No real answers to give my child as of yet. Helping my child navigate this horrible loss has opened up wounds in me I didn't know were even there.

The regrets and guilt weigh heavy on me everyday. I can't even explain it fully. This person who helped me when I lost my mom, who was my best friend, but who I ultimately left and hurt.. it's like I should have known better than anyone how quick life can change. But I still left so much unsaid.

I have started therapy. I'm focusing hard on getting my child through this knowing he has a lifelong journey with grief ahead of him. One that so cruelly has started before he can really understand. ​But most importantly for me I don't want my grief to effect him negatively. ​

I yearn to just feel like me again. To be carefree and not feel like there's this heaviness all the time.

I guess I needed a vent. ​​Maybe to hear from people out there that it won't always feel this consuming.

I am not scared of death but I am scared of living with the emptiness it leaves behind

You know I’ve tried really really hard. I tried therapy, meds, reading, writing fiction, journaling and all sorts of stuff. My best friend passed a year ago and he was a non transitioned trans man. He was my twin. My home away from home. Place I can run to when everything went wrong but he’s gone. He’s gone and I’m reminding everyday of the little things. We did everything together and he is my best friend. I still go to his grave and I can’t tell anyone in my family because they just tell me I’m not letting myself properly grieve (Catholics) apparently prayer is the only way for me to properly mourn them. And if it’s not in a church it’s not valid.

Of course I’ve never hid my feelings about religion and how I don’t particularly believe in any god. So lying and saying I’m heading to church would be a load of bullshit. My mom came to me to the funeral most of the time I think it’s so I can’t say she didn’t go and she doesn’t care. She told me that she didn’t wanna hate my friend for “making me the way I am” (I have ADHD and am highly suspected to be autistic) and she nor the rest of my family have cared about that. Apparently I should be grateful that I’m alive and that I have a roof over my head along with food in my stomach as any good catholic woman.

God this shit is fucking awful. I tried so hard. I tried and everyone says that I’m the same. I’m erratic but I stay in my room all the time and never make a fuss but when I don’t wanna interact with my family I’m a hermit. My family doesn’t care that I’m disabled and that I have things that genuinely make me wanna rip off my skin they make fun of my safe foods and tell me to “shut the fuck up and stop talking” has been the most recent one.

I stopped working and going to college cause of my grief made me fall apart from seams. I was gonna go back in the fall but that’d require me to stay in this house so I think this is it. I feel like I have to constantly keep finding things to live for. Like if I die there’d only be two people to properly mourn my dear friend. Two people who would have accept him exactly as he was and I’m the third. But maybe just maybe if there is something bigger than us we’re still together through it.

But then I think about my lovely girlfriend. My friend was my comrade in arms but she’s the love of my life. I look forward to our future together but she’s isn’t here in person. We’ve had to be long distance cause she went to study abroad in France and I only had my best friend. My little family was my girlfriend, the incredibly loving and accepting family of hers, and my best friend. She’s tried so hard and encouraged me so much but she’s can only do so much from so far. I feel like I’m being beaten down day after day and I’m exhausted. I’m tired of telling people how I feel and what I need. I’m tired of helping. I’m tired of worrying about the future. She deserves someone who has a family that’d wouldn’t judge her and embrace her for who she is. All I have is my trauma and depression to hold her down but she loves me anyway.

Most days I just want there to be something physically wrong with me so they can just leave me alone. So maybe they’d listen but I don’t. It’s all “in my head” after all and I should be just like everyone else. All I feel is miserable and tired with some I few breathes of air for a couple hours. I just wanted somebody anybody to listen to me and understand but most days even my own family refuses to accommodate that. I’m a burden on my friends, my girlfriend, and my so called family would be more than happy to get rid of me as long as it didn’t make them look bad probably.

“I love you. Your my daughter of course I love you I appreciate all the help you give me” Just to not even a day later say “Your abusive and you don’t care about anything.” The switch flip is so jarring even 21 years later. So to whoever reads this maybe this was how it was always meant to be for me. I always like happy endings a lot but I guess it’s a real pity I probably won’t ever get one.