Search the Community

Hi there. I'm new to this forum but not to the experience of grieving the loss of someone I loved very much. I'd been dating my boyfriend of 4 and a half years when he died while hiking the Appalachian trail. We'd been living together with some roommates but planned to get a place of our own and, very likely, would have gotten married in the future. He was 28 years old. Now I'm 28 and life has been difficult since he passed. Its been 2 years and I've struggled on and off again, mostly with the moving on in another romantic relationship, but also in self identity without him in this "new" life that I have. I began dating a man I've known for years but was also very good friends of my late boyfriend. We struggled with the morality of the relationship but have since overcome these issues and have developed a fairly serious relationship. It's been about a year and a half and most of the time I'm happy and feel in love and excited about the future. I am experiencing occasional lack of libido and some numbness in our relationship. I still have some feelings of guilt but I believe most of these feelings are because I occasionally can't believe the man I loved most in the world and envisioned being my husband and soul mate is now dead. I get very depressed about that idea and feel numb when I think about my current relationship. My new partner is aware I have these feelings at times and tries to be supportive but it doesn't seem to be getting better. I was wondering if anyone has any experiences similar to this and have any advice. I want to move on with my life and I'm deathly afraid I'll never be able to feel what I felt with him, even though I know he would want me to. Thanks, Em

I just wanted to write something about the grief counsellor I went to see on Monday. I had a lot of positive encouragement from you all to go and I thank you for that. The lady was very kind and it was quite a relief to be able to talk about what has happened to someone whom I won't upset. She did make a couple of comments that I found unusual though. I said that I thought my husband would be in huge shock himself at his passing as it was so unexpected and at a time in our lives when we had so much planned and so much to do. This included finishing renovating my mom's house and renting it out to help with finances. My husband was very motivated to get this done and in fact the day of his funeral was the day we were due to start. We talked of little else. The counsellor then said 'Yes I imagine his soul hovered for quite some time over his body. he would have been in shock' I wasn't perturbed by this as I believe in the afterlife and the continuation of the soul I just found it a little strange coming from a counsellor, I don't know why. Towards the end of our session she said 'Do you feel your husband around you? ' Again I found that a little strange. It is in keeping with my belief system but is not necessarily everyone else's. I would be interested in your thoughts on this and whether anyone has been asked anything similar?

Awake at 11:30 pm last night, reliving Tray's seizure two weeks ago to the day and hour, and then finally slept in a pool of tears. Awake again at 2am, reliving the debate of euthanizing, two weeks ago to the day and hour. Never slept again last night as 3am arrived, time of his death, which tore my heart out anew. My perfect dog has been gone two weeks and I feel like it's me that's dying for two weeks. Tray was my heart dog whose presence has gotten me through the past 3 years of huge challenges: my cancer survival, Tray's brother's death, Rocky, due to cancer, deaths of two friends and 13 weeks ago, the death of my father. Now I hug a pillow and pretend. My husband doesn't relate to grief of this level so I try to spare him and hold my meltdowns for when he's not home. In some ways I admire his practicality and his awareness and acceptance of the impermanence of all life. I only know those things and do not feel them or live them. I want Tray back in my life and that is all I feel. I'm grateful to have found this group of people sharing their feelings and wisdom about surviving a loss of a precious, innocent, gift of this world, our fur babies. Though actually in some ways my grief is amplified because I don't want any of us to suffer. But as someone once told me, "if you want to avoid suffering, you're on the wrong planet." I wouldn't give up my life with Tray for anything, so I guess I just have to suffer through this huge loss and chasm in my heart.

My father passed away one month ago. In addition to being filled with sadness and grief, I have been struggling with tremendous guilt. This is because my father's death was preventable. About one month before his passing my father stopped eating and complained of chest pain. My sister called a doctor but my father sent him away. As the days passed my father's condition got worse. I begged him to see a doctor and threatened to call an ambulance. My father refused to seek any medical attention and insisted that he would get better on his own. My mother, sister and I stopped arguing with him, hoping that if the situation got severe enough that he would give us permission to intervene. Then, three and a half weeks after he stopped eating, he stopped drinking. At that point we called an ambulance. He was taken to the hospital where he was diagnosed with an aortic aneurysm. He was immediately operated on. The surgery was successful, however he suffered a massive stroke one day later and passed away. I have been told by many that it was my father's decision to refuse medical attention and responsible for his own fate. Despite this I feel somewhat responsible for his passing by not being aggressive enough and forcing him to seek help. I know that acceptance and healing come with time but I am concerned that the guilt I feel will prevent this from occurring. I am wondering if there are others out there struggling with, or who have struggled with, guilt around the passing of a loved one and I wish to know what steps others have taken to overcome their guilt.

On our very first date my now boyfriend told me his mom was battling cancer and had been for the past eight years. Now, two years later, she's losing her battle and I'm starting the battle of how to deal with the grief that my boyfriend is going through. I'm looking for a way/advice to help me cope with his grief as he is shutting me out and closing me off. He claims he's fine and that he's prepared for her death, but I know something is wrong. He is throwing himself into work, not eating, doesn't sleep, had no interest in intimacy or touch, and seems to be lost. Last week I confronted him about his recently behavior changes and while he continued to deny that it had anything to do with his mom, he did say that he doesn't know if he wants to continue our relationship, even though he still loves me, doesn't want to break up or for me to move out. At the time, I told him that I was going to stay until he asked me to leave, determined to help him get through whatever hard time he's having right now, hoping to make us an even stronger couple. Now, a week later, I'm struggling to keep that same positive attitude. My love languages are physical touch and quality time and I've been getting neither in the past week. Granted, he's a farmer and it's haying season so even if we weren't in this current situation I might not be seeing him much and I'm trying to remember that. I'm doing my best to give him space and time, while offering positive encouragement about work and life in general. We've had a great relationship these past two years, full of love, laughter and happy memories. We often talked about getting married and what our futures hold. I don't want to give up on that or abandon him in his time of need, but every once in a while I worry that he really doesn't want to be in a relationship with me anymore and just doesn't have the guts to break up with me. Maybe blaming the entire situation on his mom is just my way of denying it? If anyone has any ideas, thoughts or similar stories, please share.

Lying in the Woods I had an agitated feeling of needing to get out to the woods. I stepped outside and it felt too cold. I went inside and knew I needed to go no matter how cold it was. I got ready and took a sleeping bag and I found a place in the shelter of the unwavering Aspen trees where there was no snow. I talked to Chloe and told her I wanted to grow with her, to know her and be with her. I meditated on things like courage, compassion and increased sensitivity to the spiritual world. I just lay there in the quietness. I asked the trees and the earth to be with me. It started to snow lightly and it felt good on my face. I sat up and looked out of the trees and up into the sky. The snow was light and gentle. I asked Chloe where she was, what she was doing today. I heard a bird calling from far away. Then two birds flew over my head calling to each other. They did that a couple times. As I was sitting there I saw two long, slender stems of some kind of plant. They were standing together with nothing else around. I just kept watching them. It was funny how they seemed to be talking to each other, but without words. One would lean in toward the other and then back out again. Spirits communicate without words, but through thoughts and feelings. Words don't provide enough vocabulary for the richness of their communication. I also thought that maybe they weren't communicating. Maybe they were just being together, just existing. As I watched the two stems I thought that maybe that is how I will communicate with Chloe. It won't always be important to have words but just to sit together, just to be there. I stopped at her tree and talked to her. I thanked her for her words about identity in her writing. I told her it is a relieving message, like getting off the treadmill. I gathered up some snow and gave her tree a drink. I told it to grow strong and give life. “My very existence is my identity.” ~Chloe

Grief and the Brain Exploring information on how the brain reacts to grief helped me in a couple ways. In the early days of loss, I could only process bits and pieces of information. If I received an email asking me to respond to more than one or two questions, I quickly bypassed it, procrastinated or just deleted it. I could have an entire conversation with someone only to come away from it realizing I had heard nothing. At work I had to plan more carefully so as to not put myself in a position of having to make sudden decisions. The process of decision-making was monumentally difficult. Brain-power was just generally not there. I removed myself from committee work and extra-curricular activities so I could apply my brain power to self-care. I now understood why I was having irrational fears and even panic attacks. My right brain was saying that if it was a Sunday afternoon and I was home alone with Dillon, then tragedy was going to strike. There was no separating the past to the present. Where was my left, logical brain when I needed it? It is why anniversaries started producing, not just sadness, but anxiety. My right brain was telling me that what happened in 2010 was going to repeat itself in 2011 as well as all subsequent years. It is why, on the way home from work one day, I went into a panic. I got home and burst through the door in a tearful train wreck, sobbing that Chloe wasn’t okay. It was a tug of war. I knew everything was fine, but that other part of me was saying that what happened in the past is happening right now. When I started to see that reactions could start forming habits of fear, whenever a trigger would appear, I could say to myself, “this is 2012, not 2010.” I could also choose a left-brain activity to help me reset my brain, or to switch over to another channel. However, it took more than mantras and awareness. It took help from Chloe. On the night that I had the train-wreck, sobbing attack was the night I had the dream about the magnificent bird in the sky which appeared and disappeared, leaving the message that "I am always with you whether you can see me or not." The next day was when I received the message about Chloe’s constant presence with me. This is yet another way in which both Science and Spirit have helped me in my grief.

A New Time ~"There is territory of loss only we can enter. ~Martha Hickman I feel like I'm trying to make a transition from acute or short-term grief to long-term grief and I find myself struggling to find my place, again. I think the difference is that, with initial grief, people gather tightly around you, they travel closely with you. Life doesn't have much normalcy, the loss is out in front, the entire landscape of life. Long-term grief is a regaining some normalcy to life and living. A time of letting go of that tight circle that is carrying you and continuing a more solo journey although not totally alone. I need a sense of normal in my life. I don't want to be the odd-ball-out, the grieving woman. I don't want my whole identity to be my loss. I want people to see me for who I am first, and my pain second. Plus, it is too much to ask of those in my life, to be still carrying my pain. The difficult thing that comes with this is I feel like it will be forgotten, I will be forgotten, Chloe will be forgotten. People will look at me now and see someone who appears to be strong and well-adjusted. Someone who has healed. This couldn't be further from the truth. I know I still have work to do, I fall to pieces, I am shattered. There is never a day I don't feel it. The shock and feeling lost have left to a degree but still exist. I cry, I become despondent and detached, staring at ceilings, walls and floors. I lose my appetite, become irritable, want to disappear. I constantly work on regaining trust and confidence in life. I have bouts of anxiety and fear. I often don't want to be close to anyone as there is the lingering reality of losing them. I protect my heart. Life is work with moments of joy. I am working to allow myself to be happy, to figure out what happiness means now, in this new context, and how to obtain it. I am becoming better at letting myself be in the moment, whatever that means, knowing that a new moment will come.

"If you bring forth that which is within you, Then that which is within you Will be your salvation. If you do not bring forth that which is within you, Then that which is within you Will destroy you." from the Gnostic Gospels Levine, Peter A.; Frederick, Ann (1997-09-08). Waking the Tiger: "Real grief is not healed by time...if times does anything, it deepens our grief. The longer we live the more fully we become aware of who she was. Love often makes itself visible in pain." Henri Nouwen In the first months I experienced anxiety and fear, something like a panic attack. The irrational idea that this event of loss was going to repeat itself. My body was trying to release the shock, something humans don’t do well. I didn’t feel like this was a time to be a hero and took anxiety meds as sparingly as I could They helped to ease my body so that I wouldn’t be presented with an additional challenge. In time I started observing why I was having anxiety and when it was happening. I saw that anxiety was really just whatever it was I was holding and not releasing. Crying was having the same effect as the meds because it was bringing up my soul contents and releasing it. The other “fix” for me was laying directly on the earth and breathing. In time, both of these began to replace the meds. http://cindyweaver2015.blogspot.com/

"Grief has its seasons and they are unpredictable, but they will pass and each has its own inner logic. Sometimes the best we can do is say, "okay that's how it is today. What can I do that is most compatible with this mood?" Martha Hickman I find no difference in grief and death. In death there is grief, but grief itself is death. It is not a mere missing what has been lost, but a personal death ensues. You lose what you have loved and you lose yourself. It all comes crashing down to nothing. Losing a child is not just the absence of a physical presence, missing their physical features and their love, you lose yourself as well. The process becomes finding yourself again and grieving the absence of the child at the same time. It is the loss of dreams. New dreams will have to come, but not now. Deep loss is like walking through a field of landmines. You don't always know where they are or when they will detonate. They can do a little damage or a lot. This isn’t unique only to people who have experienced a catastrophic death, but the accumulation of unacknowledged losses throughout life. We all carry them with us, and are surprised when they go off and we often don't have any idea why. You just can't get around it, no matter how hard you try to push it away or yell or scream or ignore it, or sing or dance. Grief will just wait for you until you acknowledge that it hurts and release it http://cindyweaver2015.blogspot.com/

I said goodbye to my cat of 13 years, Urdwill, at the pet hospital this morning. He had multiple cancer tumors and I did not want him to have to go through invasive surgery. Yesterday when I visited him for an hour, he mewed, we cuddled, he rubbed his cheek against mine, and he fell asleep with his head on my hand. Today he acted as though I was a stranger, and simply stared fixedly ahead of him, as though he saw something we could not. The very kind and sensitive vet gave him an injection of medicine that made him sleep, then the killing dose; his passing was immediate, peaceful, and pain-free, as I had prayed it would be. I've been up since around 3am and I am so exhausted I can barely function, even though it is only 4pm here in Santa Fe, NM now. We had a wonderful 13 years together, Urdwill and I, and he was the last of my animals to pass away (I had 2 dogs before him and 2 dogs after I got him, all of whom are now dead). I must focus on what we had, not his last moments. But the child in me feels that somehow Urdwill got sick and died because I did not do something for him that I should have. And I feel as though I've been disemboweled. My heart goes out to all of you who are mourning a pet. Non-petlovers don't understand what it is like, how strong and deep the bond can be between human and pet. My body misses Urdwill--misses touching him, stroking his fur, feeling his weight on my lap and in my arms, hearing his loud purr and feeling the vibration of it. Often he would climb into bed with me, and his furry butt would push up against my side, keeping me warm. (And next morning he would have somehow managed to completely take over the middle of the bed, pushing me to the very margins!) I refuse to be ashamed of my grief. I love you, Urdwill. Goodbye, sweet boy.

On Friday, it will be 8 weeks since my best friend, Nick, passed away. He died suddenly, and we may never know the cause (which is one of the BIGGEST things I feel will never let me get past this). But I almost don't want to get passed it - I feel guilty when I'm not crying... but I know that is not what he would want from me. I'm a writer, and one of the last conversations I had with Nick in person was him encouraging me to write as much as I can. I took his advice, and wrote an article, which Elite Daily was so graciously able to publish. My words have not healed me - but they did give me peace of mind knowing it's okay that right now I'm not okay. I wanted to share it all with you - I really would wish this pain away from everyone... but this may be the only way I know how to be a voice in this sandstorm of emotion. Stay strong <3 http://elitedaily.com/life/its-okay-not-being-okay/1031272/

Hello, My name is Vicente and last Monday was one month since my beautiful little dog died and I have been feeling terrible.The last two weeks have been very hard since just when I thought I was starting to heal, I had a relapse and I have been feeling sad again since last Sunday. This is what I wrote a few days after he died so that you can get an idea of my situation and how important my little dog was for me. He was my life: My name is Vicente Ernesto Sánchez and I am writing from Mexico because my beautiful seven year old French Poodle died last Friday, Juanuary 9 and I feel terrible and guilty. I really need help since I don't know how I am going to get over this situation. I try to rescue stray dogs to then find them a happy home and I have tried to find a home for a Golden Retriever for 6 months. He has been in a pet care for months and every two days I went with my French Poodle to pick him up and take them for a walk. That Friday, I was outside a Vet with my little French Poodle, The Golden and a little Cocker my brother rescued. Everything was ok and I have them with their own leash. Suddenly, my little dog growled at the Golden and jump over him to attack him. The golden just put his body above my dog and I separated them almost immediately. The problem is that my dog fell unconscious with his tongue outside the muzzle. The Vet tried to save him, gave him a shot, reanimated him and nothing. He died. I feel terrible. Guyton was my best friend, my partner and my life. I feel I could have prevented this from happening and this makes me feel guilty and misserable. My little dog was 7 years old and had lung and heart failure that made him snore, have breathing attacks and get tired easily after running. I don't know if it was a combination of all these problems and if he wasn't going to be able to live for many more years and these problems caused his heart attack. One of his ex Vets told me today that due to his health condition, his life expectancy wasn't very optimistic and that dogs like him life 40 percent less than healthy dogs. In spite of this, I just can't rest and I feel that I took 10 years of his life away from him and that I also took y dad's dog away from him since Guyton was very important to him too and he is very sad. Seeing him like this makes me feel very bad and worsens everything. I feel terrible and I can't belive how everything seemed to have aligned to cause this tragedy. The owner of the Pet care couldn't take the Cocker to get vaccinated and this ius why I took her with us that day. Then, I was about to leave the Vet's office to walk the dogs while the doctor finished bathing a cat, when I decided to come back to grab a t-shirt that I have put on The Golden Retriever for months that says Adopt me because I thought Who knows Maybe a possible adoptant shows up during this little walk. And when I came back this tragedy took place. It's unbelievable and I feel terrible and guilty. I really need some advice and support because this dog was the best thing in my life. I have OCD and my life has been horrible for years and this little dog gave me moments of great happyness. My mental condition makes this tragedy tougher and I don't know what to do. This was just the last straw to complete my misserable life. I wasted my twenties since I stopped going to school regularly at the age of 19 to avoid seeing my friends and having anxiety problems. I got this idea that I couldn't talk about anything and I made it happen, which made my life misserable in the University, which I hated by the way, and in social events. I finished a law degree going to school only on Saturdays, but I didn't like this degree either and I have practically been outside a normal twenty something guy's social life all these years. I had many dreams. I wanted to go to Canada or to a great US city like New York and have a new life with a nice job, friends, a nice appartment and a healthy state of mind. I was very interested in having a life like the one that you could see on Friends, Seinfeld and other 90s sitcoms and movies. It is my favorite decade and I idealise this decade. I spent years regretting I couldn't turn back time to the 90s and not having been born many years earlier to live my 20's in this decade. I always thought I was going to be able to fulfill this dream. I was too trusting and put my plans off several times thinking: I am just 25, I still have a few years before turning 30. The day will come. But my personal and family problems, my disease and indecision made these dreams fade away. My routine these years has been waking up, taking a shower, having breakfast, watching tv, eating, watching tv again, surfing the net, having dinner and going to bed. My little dog changed it a little bit because I took him for a walk every day, but it has been pretty much the same ever since I was 19. I am about to turn 30 and I have no friends, no job, no life. Never had a girlfriend. I have never been able to flirt and have a relationship. It's hard for me to talk to girls and they just seem to find me unattractive, boring and disgusting. I feel they find being next to me or touch me gross and unpleasant. My dog was the creature that cared the most about me and loved me with all my problems unconditionally. He was my best and only friend. He was my life and the one that brightened my life. I feel lonely and I am alone despite I live with my brother and my mom. I just miss walking him, seeing him on my bed, knowing he is behind my bathroom door waiting for me to get out and take him for a walk, seeing how happy he got when he saw his necklace, hear his little bell and saw his leash. I miss him in my car because he went almost everywhere with me. He was my best friend and my life partner. And the fact of knowing these things won't happen anymore and that the life plans I had with him are death is horrible. He was going to be my only companion and now I don't know what is going to happen with my life. I go over the tragical event over and over again and it's overwhelming and makes me feel misserable many times. This dog was extremely special for me me because my parents separated last May and the previous years there were many fights in my house and this little dog gave us great moments of joy, hope and he even brought the family together and even delayed my parents' separation. My little Guyton reached this level of importance and power. The situation became unbearable and my parents finally split up. I was very worried for him because he was extremely attached to my dad and the fact of seeing him waiting for my dad to get home on the stairs looking at the living room window and knowing my dad was no longer come back home made me feel terrible. The first days were very tough, but fortunately my dad and I managed a way to make Guyton spend time with him and we developed a routine centered around him. Every day My dad and I met between 7 and 9pm whether in a department store, a cafe or my uncle's house to give Guyton to him so that he could spend time with my dad and continue sleeping with him just how he used to do it when my dad still lived with us, and then, my dad gave Guyton back to me in the morning and he spent the whole day with me. This is also something that I am having trouble realizing it's not part of my routine anymore and makes this tragedy harder to deal with. Everyday I got back home with Guyton in the morning and he jumped to my bed and usually kissed me. Then, I took a swower and he either waited for me outside the bathroom or on my bed. We had several customs like these and it's terrible to know this doesn't happen anymore and have to readjust my life. I took him for a walk in the morning and in the afternoon every day. He waited for me on my bed or outside my bathroom with a lot of excitement for knowing it was his walk time. Sometimes he followed me with his eyes or everywhere to let me know he wanted to go out and he was looking forward to it. He got very happy. He cried, yelled, kissed me, sneezed and jumped over me when I showed him his necklace, he heard the little bell I put on it and when he saw his leash. I don't know what I am going to do. I hate today's world. I find it so gray, lame, superficiel, plastic, so full of technological devices I don't like and make it even more shallow and with less personality and attractive. I hate today's era. I don't fit in and I am not looking forward to the next years. Music sucks, movies suck, new generations make me feel hopeless and it's just horrible. Going abroad is no longer interesting and attractive to me because I lost the best years when I should have done it, which were between 2004 and 2012 when I was younger and still had dreams and a lot of nostalgia for the 90s. which was a great impulse to live in The US, Canada or The UK. These ambitions are gone. I don't feel like studying a Masters, looking for a great job or discovering new things anymore. I wasted my 20s in a terrible depressing way. The years that for most people are the best in life. The years where you go to college, have great experiences, have fun, relationships, when you explore and discover things, when you grow up, start working as a young adult. The years where many people live life at its fullest, go out, find their independence, their path and the girl of their dreams. I didn't have any of these things and you have no idea how sad, depressing and impotent it is to realize you will never be able to turn back time and that these years are gone for good. Now I am under medication, fluvoxamine, which makes these feelings be like asleep. It's like being sedated. I still feel them and I still know they are deep inside of me, but I am druggy enough to forget a little bit about them, something I am not comfortable with because the medicine is not curing me and will never do it, it just confuses you a little bit and you don't feel good, complete and satisfied. When I stop taking them, I usually start getting my nostalgia and regrets back fast, something that belive it or not, makes me feel good and alive. The problem is that the crisis become harder to manage. For example, I haven't taken this medicine the last days and I don't know if this was the reason why my dog's loss became even more painful this weekend. this morning I really wanted to die. I was desperate. I wanted to disconnect myself to avoid the great pain I felt. Sometimes I feel like giving up and killing myself to go with my little dog. Sometimes I feel it's unbelievable and ridiculous that I haven't committed suicide after all the years of pain, sorrow, loneliness, deceptions, problems, mental suffering and sadness. What am I going to do? If only I could know what he is thinking, where he is and get guided by him. The death of my beautiful little Guyton was the last straw to make me go to pieces and the last element to complete a decade of horrible 20s. Guyton is buried in my garden, but it is still too painful to look at his grave and stay there for a long time. It's just unbelievable. Many things just lined up for this tragedy to happen. I really don't know if this was meant to happen since there was a series of factors that make me think this. First, the rescued Golden Retriever Guyton had the little fight with, had many chances to be adopted, but in the end, the adoptions didn't take place. Sometimes because the adoprtants werent good and other times because of situations that make me feel what I just mentioned. He was about to be adopted by a family with three little girls and a boy. They went to meet him at the Pet care and they liked him. The owner of the ppet care gave me a call to tell me the family was ready to take hi with them and put the mom on the phone. I asked her to give me one more day. I told her this because I had another possible adoptant I had talked with on the phone that sounded like the perfect adoptant for him. She was the mother of a girl and a boy. He was married and thay had just moved to my city. She told me she loved dogs and that the Golden, whose name is Güero by the way, was going to sleep with her and be very spoiled. I liked this idea and the next day and took El Güero to their house so that he spent the night with the family to see if there was chemistry. The next day, I picked him up and the mom told me that her daughter's allergies had worsened that night and that the dog had growled at her boy. She wasn't upset about that, but I am sure that this was something that mae her decide not to keep the dog and the girl's nose was very red and swalllowed, so I could witness she wasn't lying. anyway, I thought: No problem, I still had the other family, so I gave the mom a call. She answeres me and tells me they had already got a puppy. I felt terrible, although there was something about the family that didn't make me feel convinced about giving el Güero to them. They had a big garden, something I liked, but the girls were very annoying and brusque and I always had the feeling that even though the mom ensured me the dog could have access to the house, he was going to end up the whole day in the Garden kind of lonely. More weeks went by and I was worried because el Güero just couldn't gain weight. He is very slender and this was a reason why I hadn't got him neutered. Besides, I just felt bad about the idea of doing this to him. I tend to do that. The problem was that he had become a little bit more aggresive. He was very sweet when I rescued him, but there were two little dogs in the first Pet care where he stayed that bothered him a lot and I think this made his character change. As time went by, he became more intolerant towards other dogs and he got into several fights in the Pet care where he is now and where he has been for several months. In spite of this, I didn't get him neutered to see if his behavior improved because he was thin and because of my idea of not wanting to heart him. Then, at the beginning of the year I got a new possible adoptant. A divorced mother with two girls. I went to her house to have a little interview because it is something I like to do before giving a dog in adoption and she told me she was going to go meet el Güero with her girls the following day. I told her it was ok and that I was going to be there around 1:30. She went to meet el Güero with the girls and according to the owner of the pet care and his employee. everything started great. They played with him and the dog was being nice and loving. Suddenly, the owner and the employee heard a fuss and yelling. They went out and the mom took the youngest girl away from el Güero because he put his muzzle on the girl's forehead and jammed her two of his fangs. The mother took the episode well according to the owner and left the place. I arrived around 10 minutes after this happened because I arrived a little bit later than we had agreed. The owner and the employee told me the family was just waiting for me to take the dog with them and suddenly this event took place and made the mom changed her mind. I felt bad again and I couldn't believe how close El Güero had been again from being adopted. This reinforced my idea that there was something weird around this. That week my brother rescued a female Cocker and took her to this Pet care. The owwner offered me on Monday to take her to the Vet to get her vaccinated, but when I arrived on Friday, the employee told me he hadn't had a chance to do it. I went three times a week with Guyton to visit el Güero and took them together for a walk always. That day, I decided to take the Cocker to in order to get her vaccinated. We arrived to the Vet and the doctor was busy bathing a cat. He told me to get back in 20 minutes. I had taken the cocker and Guyton out of the car and left El Güero inside. I noticed he was desperate for getting out of the car so I left him get out. I had the three dogs with their leash inside the Vet's store and I was on my way to a garden in front of the store to walk the dogs when I decided to get back to my car to get a t-shirt that I pu on El Güero that says: "Adopt me". I thought: I could get a possible adoptant during this little walk. Who knows. I tried to put the shirt on el Güero, but the dogs were excited, specially Guyton because he was trying to mount the cocker. I tried to put Guyton's leash under a dog's house to keep him there and it didn't work. I had the three dogs with their leash again inside the Vet's store when suddenly Guyton growls at the Golden and gets into this little fight. I separated them in a matter of 2 seconds and Guyton fell death to a heart attack. The Vet tried to save him, but he couldn't do anything. This is what is making my grieving process more difficult, painful and unbearable. The guilt and the fact that I could have put one of the dogs back in the car, left El Güero inside or tried to leash them to another thing, like a post. The guilt has been killing me and I find the whole situation even ridiculous. See all the things that happened that ended in this horrible tragedy. It's just unbelievable and it has been the story of my life in the last years. In the end, I usually end up screwed for ridiculous, unbelievable or stupid factors. I feel I killed him in certain way and that I took several years of his life away from him. And the series of events that took place before his death made me feel bad, weird, sad, guilty, stupid and pensive about something beyond my control that made this tragedy ocurred. What do you think? I have been feeling very sad again lately. I thought I had found a way out of the most difficult period, but I just had a relapsed. I don't know if it has something to do with the fact I stopped taking my medicine for my mental condition for several days, if it's just something that was triggered by some memory or a moment of weakness I had or a combination of everything. I don't know what to do. I know that taking my medicine, fluvoxamine, helps me hide my sadness and makes me feel less sad, but I also know that antidepressants tend to fool your brain, hyde your emotions and mask your real feelings and state of mind, which is something I have never been very comfortable with. I hope you can reply to me and thank you very much in advance for your help.

My husband died in his sleep 5 months ago and I thought I was doing ok, but just this week I feel like I've slid back so far. I have a high-pressure, high-stress job that has gotten more taxing, and today I sat in my office crying, and have been so anxious and ineffective. I can't help but wonder if anyone else has backslid to this extent? Is this normal?

Both my parents died this year within a few months of each other. I am feeling pretty disconnected as I was the only one of my siblings (there are 2 others) who cried during the holidays. Yes, my parents were pretty elderly (88) but it is just hard to see them go. Everyone is the family keeps a pretty tight lid on emotions; frankly that came from my parents and its not always healthy. My middle sister all along has been the one person disputing any splitting of money. (my parents left a sizeable chunk). First it was that she wanted all kind of work done on my parent's house, with their money while her son was renting it. Parents had moved to a senior living apartment and we knew could not return. So that was a big dispute even though the other sibling and I tried to point out they were just renting it; no home improvements projects were warranted. Then, when the house sold she wanted her son to get a bargain. Now they both my parents are gone, she is the executor of the will. Many years ago she borrowed money from my parents, paying it back with interest and all along the plan was that she would take the debt out of her share of the estate. That was always the plan, discussed verbally but not on paper (I know, bad idea). Let's say she borrowed $30K. Instead of paying each sibling back she now thinks she should get a third of the $30K herself since "its part of the estate". Her tax person told her this was the thing to do and she is trying to push it through. I told her I don't agree and she is accusing me of "questioning her honesty". Frankly she is just so aggressive about the money thing that I trust her less and less. If it's for her or her kids, she is just kind of nasty and huffy about the whole thing. And not like she is in great need of money. So is this grief disguised? Old family drama playing out? Or is this just greed pure and simple? Thanks for the advice!

This is mainly something about a post by KayC that I remember reading. Not in these words, she ultimately said that we need to realize that our loved ones were not perfect and that many of them were mean or had flaws and such and its so true but at the same time its hard for me to accept that. Or admit it at least because after my dad died, I hated when people would say anything mean about him because its like he wasnt there to defend himself. I was telling my mom how guilty I felt for not spending more time with my dad throughout my life and especially closer to his passing. I saw him at least once a day for the most part, if not 5 days out of the week. My mom had to remind me that I did spend time with him but sometimes I didnt want to. My parents are divorced for multiple reasons, some I do not know, but one of them being that my dad was controlling. He got mean and he ruled with fear sometimes. After the divorce, he changed that and really tried to fix that about himself but honestly, I forget and I dont want to admit it. He had said some mean things and I know those were why I left or didnt talk to him for a few days. I guess Im not really sure what Im asking here but how do I realize that he wasnt perfect without making myself feel like I am saying he was a mean person sometimes?

To everyone that has lost a beloved pet, I am sorry. To everyone experiencing this grief during the holiday season and/or another special occasion, I am sorry. It is tremendous to get through such thoughts and emotions and move forward. Never did I appreciate this before losing Sir Greysby to pancreatitis on November 25th, 2014 after a 30-day fight wherein he tried to live and my husband and I tried to help him win the battle. Never have I gone through such - let alone his passing 2 days before hosting Thanksgiving at my house, which I did do in an almost an out-of-body manner and excusing myself to go cry silent away from the guests. 3 weeks and 2 days later, I am healing, but have moments wherein I feel sucker-punched in my gut once more and I let-out primordial cries of anguish. Why? What could I have done differently? Why didn't I recognize the 2 earliest behavioral changes in him as signs he was becoming ill? Would those 4-5 weeks have made a difference in his ability to recover before I took him to the Vet? What have I done to work through and move past such grief? I downloaded 4 e-books to read on pets going to heaven and the grieving process. I learned that my grief and guilt are very "normal," although I have felt anything but normal. I created a beautiful photo journal book of him - from the days he was a stray and we took him in and up through the day of his departure from this life. I kept a swatch of his hair and his foot-print and his collar with the heart-shaped tags. His remains were cremated and placed in a nice oak urn that displays a picture of him making "soft eyes" at me on his last day here. I have gone to a Christian psychologist twice to help me process the void. The void is not as huge now, but the first week after he left, my stomach hurt, I cried a lot, and I did not know what to do with the spare time that Sir Greysby use to fill-up when he was well, but especially during the last week of his life. I had gone into a panic mode in trying to get him to eat all forms of chicken and/or treats ... anything! I woke-up in the middle of many nights wondering if he had passed away and got up to check on him. When he lapped his ice-cold water, I was so thankful and hopeful. But then, the battle ended. My momentum was still going forward and wanting to help him, but he was no longer here. I've played back the video, from the last morning of his being with me, several times. He loved my ankles and feet, then sat in front of his food without touching it once again ... after 3-days of his not doing so. He had come full circle. This is what had caused me to take him to the Vet to begin with ... he did not eat his favorite warmed, soft cat food for 3-days. The Vet placed him on steroids and an antibiotic, and for several weeks, it seemed he might have a fighting chance. Sir Greysby never resumed eating his food at the level he had done before falling ill, but at least he nibbled. The fact was that he was anorexic and continued to lose weight during those last 30-days of his life. 3-days before his departure, my husband and I decorated the living-room for the holiday season. Our minds told us that he would not make it, but our hearts hoped he would. We played Christmas carols for him, took a photo of him, and struggled with thinking it might be his last holiday season with us. Barely have I been able to hear any Christmas music since then. However, I do not regret giving Sir Greysby one-last Christmas with us, and I know that with time, I will smile and feel good about those memories. My other cats and their adjusting to his not being here has been awkward. The routines changed for them, too. Sir Greysby ruled our home during his 2-1/2 year stay with us. :-) However, I am adapting to their new routines and am spending more time loving and appreciating them. They have had numerous pictures taken of them in their favorite areas of the house, at play and at rest. Now, I fully comprehend they are my family that love me unconditionally. There are "those" people who are thoughtless for whatever reasons. I have chosen not to be rude to them in return, but rather to ignore them and move through my grieving process as I see fit. I know that one-day I will feel better. It is a process and a journey. I will always thank my God of understanding for allowing this beautiful soul to grace our home with the last 2-1/2 years of his life. We learned so much from him and I know that Sir Greysby is in a much better, heavenly place that affords him happiness and peace. May your soul find peace and comfort during this time and know that this lady is praying for your wellness and healing, too.

Since Dad's passing I've become fascinated with what Heaven is like. I was reading "The Lovely Bones" the week of his death & I like the books version of heaven-that it's your favorite places & things you might not have had on earth & there are different areas you can go & jobs you do. I imagine Dad up there with my 4 yr old sister, in an area with lakes and mountains & trees, log cabins & lots of horses & 3-wheelers to ride. Dad's dream was to have a horse farm & go to Alaska. His favorite things to do was to travel up to Vancouver or out West with friends where they rode 3 wheelers & did lots of horse back riding. He rode on many trail rides with my oldest sister's group & loved it. So I think that's where they are [since Cindy died 2 yrs before I was born & she was 4 I'm not sure about her or her heaven]. He spends his days with our angel family & friends & even his heroes like John Wayne, playing cards, drinking beer, boating, fishing & talking. Dad was an angel on earth, always volunteering & helping others so I'm sure he's doing something like that there too. Then he & Cindy get together so he can be her daddy again. I know he watches us still & helps us-I've felt him & he would never stop that. I'm curious what others think of heaven. ........

So I lost my dad on September 7th and I still cannot believe hes gone. I know its only been 3 weeks but I feel so lost. I cant wrap my mind around it. Im numb to things and I feel like I wander around aimlessly. Im back at college and working on assignments but no motivation. I just want to lay there and sleep or get lost in a movie. I feel like Ive aged 10 years in the past 3 weeks and I am so...lost. I feel like I lost a limb. My mom says I am in despair but I am so numb. He got diagnosed with cancer when I was 17. I never thought about it, pushed it to the back of my mind and adamantly thinking "ill think about it later." he was in the hospital for 2 wks after we found out and he got his tumor removed because he gave up for a bit. I just ignored it. Chemo made him sick and he was always cold and I ignored it. I remember talking to my mom and brother a few months ago and them saying they didnt think he would make it another ten years. I was so mad at them. he was fine! he had to walk me down the aisle and meet my kids. He would be there for that and for my college graduation. He had stage 4 cancer but it was just a number. I finally started crying when we found out he was terminal and two months later he had 6 mos to live. I woke my mom up at night cause i was scared. I drove to his house at night because I was sad. it finally came out and then a month later he died. Why did i deny it so long? i think its why I didnt spend all my time with him. I thought he would be there. I needed him to be there. He had to be there. He was my dad and he wasnt ever aging and he wasnt sick. He was fine. How do I get through this? I miss him and I am mad I never accepted it but I was scared. i remember thinking something at night "Ill deal with it when he dies." well here I am. it caught up with me and theres nowhere else to go.

Chinook the Ferret passed 2-22-12. In my heart I felt I should have put him down a few months back but I felt he still has some earthly pleasures, eating, snuggling, and so on even though his behind legs were going out. The day he died, I knew I had to put him down the day before but we both knew. I remember I took a week off work and my last day, I was praying for God to take him because I knew I could not handle it,. I remember crying and Chinook crawling to me and licked the tears off my face. The worst day of my life and I pray for my life to end to end the pain in my heart, Fast forward almost an year and half later, and the sting of his death is still with me. I keep on telling me, this soon will pass and I think of Nikomi, my other ferret and even though I am sad, it is not grief stricken like Chinook. Chinook was always my favorite and I supposed it is my fault for building my life around this wonderful critter and now he is gone. The worst part, I am now being exposed to more and more people in my life that state animals do not have souls. Nothing is written in the Bible and I quote scriptures such as "and the Lion will eat with the sheep in harmony" which suggests there is a place in Heaven for God's creatures and then I get these people that say, you have to be reborn again, believe in Jesus, etc etc and animals have no concept of God so therefore they are here on earth to entertain us and to be eaten and that is it. So what is the purpose of dying or going to Heaven if my Chinook is not going to be there, I have lost family members in my life and I have grieve for them but I also know the Bible teaches we will be reunited in Heaven, I am so lost and cry and cry more and more but always in private because the people in my life are tired of hearing about Chinook the Ferret and for obvious reason why I do not have another ferret, It is almost welcoming to be separated in my relationship so I can get another ferret but I know that will not happen. No other ferret or other animal for that reason can replace my Chinook. I am so lost. Would like to share this short video I made on You Tube that sums up how I feel in this post. Thank you for listening.

I had an songwriter and an singer so I could make this final tribute to my beloved Chinook. Unknown to the talent parties, this song was completed on 2-22-14, 2 years to the day Chinook went on to the Rainbow Bridge. Everyone on this site has been so kind and loving, I wanted to share this with you all. Everyone has been so helpful, guiding me to books and sharing your own wisdom and insight. God Bless Tim Smith Phoenix, Arizona. ************OMG, NOVEMBER 4, 2015..... I have been reading some old posts because I was very a little blue missing my Chinook and just realized now after all this time I put in the wrong video in my original post, "The Cat From Outer Space"... Below is the video and song of Chinook the Ferret. Funny, well it is not funny but sometimes I feel myself not grieving for Chinook then I go into this fit of guilt like I am forgetting him which I am not. Even this past Halloween, they say its the day "when the dead return to their loved ones by a camp fire", we have all heard that saying so I took pictures where his cage was and is favorite playing spots which of course has changed with rearranged furniture a new carpet almost like he would not recognize the place. There were no balls of light not even a reflection of dust or a light bulb to humor my sense of hope. Chinook has moved on I am told may-be I am starting to too but feel guilty doing so... Thank you again for always being here allowing me to vent my most private hurtful memories and of course joy. ODE TO CHINOOK THE FERRET LINK TO SONG http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1d3fir_ode-to-chinook-the-ferret_animals

It's been a while since I've been on here. It's been 16 months since Dad passed away & on Valentine's day it was the 2 yr mark since my best friend left us all. I have continued to struggle & fight this grief thing including taking a mild anti depressant & now taking more of the anti anxiety pills as I have had even more periods of anxiety. I have had HORRIBLE STRESS with my job, planning my daughter's July wedding, some volunteer activities even. Next week I'm finally going to start the process of seeing a therapist-I've been using my husband's shoulders to cry on long enough & last week I felt I was having a melt down. I know a lot of the depression can be attributed to the winter weather & no sun & horrible temps, etc. BUT Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck missing Dad & Donna. Not a day goes by I don't think of Dad at least especially as the wedding gets closer & we're reminded that my Dad always told my daughter he couldn't wait to dance with her on her special day. I have started wondering if something happened to my spiritual side with these losses. I have forced myself to go to church exactly twice [besides a couple funerals] since Dad's funeral & my heart feels hard or empty when I think of God-is that possible? I so want to be open to all that again but it's like that side is gone. Does that make any sense? I see people's pictures and posts on facebook about loving God & all these great things & I don't feel any of that! I used to I know. Also, can physical belongings tie you to the grief? If so, what happens if you get rid of them. As I type this I'm looking at 2 pictures on my wall that I bought during a road trip with my best friend. Each time I see them some great memories of her come back at the same time that I tear up. My husband & I both want to change the decor in this room & those things wont' look good when we do but I hate to toss them. I don't find them that attractive any more but besides a couple small photos of her & my memories they are the ONLY thing I have of her left. I'm afraid if I give them away I'll have nothing to remind me of her even as I know I get a bit sad sometimes seeing them. I was ok getting rid of a lot of Dad's things because I have so many other things-like my Daughter's smile or even just my Mom to keep memories of him alive. With Donnna I don't - a few photos. Is it ok if I take these pictures down? Will I still have her?

This Friday will mark 5 months since Dad's death. Seems so long & so short at the same time. I've noticed that I fee like I've changed, emotionally, since that day & not necessarily in a good way. I'm more serious, more cynical.We don't entertain as much as we used to-I tell myself that all our friends are really busy too I've lost my spirit, my spunk-the spunk has turned more into bitchiness sometimes. I've lost my light & my creativity-my craft & art supplies are dusty. I don't put up with the junk I used to. Yet, I'm softer-I cry more easily at sweet or simple things. Yes, I'm on a very low dose of an anti depressant because my dr. insists that I'm NOT depressed but still grieving. I can no longer talk about Dad to my friends as most have told me to "get over it. Move on. He's dead what more do you want him to do?" [yes the person I thought was one of my best pals told me this after he promised me that he & his wife would help out whenever they could-nice huh?]. I do exercise & eat right, only have an occasional glass of wine or margarita. BUT I so miss my Dad!! Is this normal-people changing like this? When will I get my spark back? Along with Dad's death I've been dealing with Mom coming back North after spending the winter with my sisters in Texas & her dementia really progressing to the point where we are discussing options for her to move to an assisted living facility. Also dealing with a co-worker [i work in a 2 person non-profit organization] whom I barely tolerate because of her many many professional & personal issues so I"m quietly looking for a new job. Also: my only chld/daughter, who's 20, announced she's getting married next summer. Most nights I just want to crawl into a cave & hide.

Today is our First Father's Day without Dad. It's been 6 months & 15 days. thought this would be easier to get through today. Almost didn't buy my husband a Father's day card since every time I got near that section at the card store I cried. Finally at Walmart, one of my regular customers from work who knows about Dad saw me struggling at the F.Day card section, went & grabbed a big sheet of poster board & held in front of the Dad cards until I could find one for hubby. Today I woke up thinking "Yay, I can call & talk to Dad today." then a few minutes later "oh crap, no I can't. he's gone & I can't tell him & hear him tease me about making a fuss over him". So I'm avoiding looking at ANY photos of him until later when my hubby's at work & I can cry. I so want to hold his hand again, want to hear his voice, want to feel his hugs, share a beer with him. He was the best example of a man there could be-my husband even resembles alot alot of his same good character. His best gift was thew wonderful & gentle way he treated my Mom-he had her so spoiled. He also taught my sisters & I what to look for & expect from a man/partner; sometimes we didn't listen but in the end we all did. I wish Heaven had a phone to call him & tell him Hey Happy Father's Day. I'll see you soon. xoxo this photo was taken 2 yrs ago at my daughter's high school graduation. 3 days later he survived a massive hemmoraghic stroke. This is the last photo we have of him well.

Memorial weekend will mark the 6 month mark since Dad's death. A bit of an ironic "holiday" this year I think. As we'll be trying to visit all our other families' graves we'll also be getting ready to have Dad's headstone finally put on the grave. That seems to be like a final marker for me at least-so far all that marks his "spot" is a metal butterfly garden stake I put there & the broken sod; sometimes I could drive to that cemetary to visit other graves & pretend his didn't exist so it must not be true, right? I'd thought I was doing Sooo good with this grief stuff, even thinking that I didn't really need the very mild anti depressant the dr. gave me. Nope. Now I am to the point where I am going to look for a counselor. I have developed a lot of anger towards people since some of my closest friends have shown that they're not good dealing with "people like me"-I STILL keep getting told to "quit talking about your Dad, he's dead. Is there anything really to talk about?" by a "close friend" & co-worker I even considered a brother. He even told me since I came back to work the day after the funeral that it couldn't have been that bad if I came back that soon. Maybe I shouldn't have gone back that week but we depend on every dime & hour of my paycheck. I'm dealing with so much stress & issues at work that there is anger from that. Mom's has declined to the point where we are discussing other living options & knowing that in the next few months we will be selling Mom & Dad's house of almost 50 years & moving her & dealing with that. My only daughter gets married next summer & she wanted her Grandpa there so much-that's the one thing she'd ever dreamed of: dancing with Grandpa at her wedding. She & her fiance even went to the grave [how I have come to HATE that word!] & "told Grandpa we have to do this without him". I WANTED MY DAD THERE to see his favorite grand child walk down that aisle. Even as he recovered from his stroke he'd tell me "I know Allie's going to be a bride someday and I'll be there to walk her down to meet that boy.I promise you." My parents helped me raise her until she was 6 & out of all 18 grandchildren she was his favorite. I still cry every night.I relive that whole last week constantly-I am so afraid I'm forgetting the sound of his voice & the touch of his hand. And I'm angry at myself for not knowing my Dad better when he was alive-I'm learning more about him from my siblings, stuff I never even knew about him & I get so mad at myself for not knowing more-why didn't I push him to talk to me more?!! with me he was quiet & would show me things more & tell me he liked just sitting without saying anything why the hell didn't I make him talk? Why was I so d*** selfish to just accept his not talking?!!!!! I was his last daughter-I should have done more!!!! I don't tell my husband any of this-he has to listen enough to my venting about my job & dealing with Mom's situation. This is MY pain. I just want him back. I want my Mom back to before the dementia invaded her body. I want to hold his hand one more time. And I thought all this grief stuff would be over by now.