Paul S

Hi shubom, read the PM I sent you. Talk about coincidence. "Not wanting to be here anymore" as you will probably know, is a popular feeling with me. Popular in that it refuses to go away and is seemingly in demand by my subconscious. (Though I don't recall any nightmares about it to tell you. I wish I did, because my nightmares always make you laugh. ) I have had this feeling all week, of missing Mom. I have deeply missed my Mom all week. It started on Sunday, when I remembered that there had been a pink rose (her favorite kind, I think) growing last year on the edge of the property by her old house, in the bushes. How it got there, I have no idea. But I had planned last Fall to dig it up and transplant it for her, so she could see it better. I never got the chance as she entered the hospital about then, never to come home. Now that the house is sold, I will never get the chance to do that. It also pains me to think that due to its location, it'll be prominent to see from a block away. (the house is near an intersection, so it's easy to see, from one block away as I drive down Main Street.) It got worse after my face-to-face grief counseling session on Tuesday. That's happened before, but its OK, I won't stop going just yet. Today the feeling of not wanting to be here was really bad, when I visited the cemetary. I cried hard, begged for God to get me out of here. I don't need to be here anymore, what's the use? Of course there is a reason, we may not know it yet. Perhaps it to help each other. I don't know, but I was wishing that WE'D ALL be united someday in Heaven, from were there is no parting, and we can each meet each other's loved ones, never to be separated again.

The time to tend the cemetary is coming up. The two perennials are up and doing well (hostas). In a few weeks I shall plant the usual stuff that my Mom would've wanted: geraniums (2 this year, one for each of them - Mom and Dad), those small begonias that bloom all year, impatiens (pink, Mom's favorite. I found some last year that kept up a vibrant pink color all summer into fall, she would've loved that), and a sweet alyssum border (white). If only Mom was around to help.

I posted this over in "Behaviors in Bereavement's" topic "Now What?" by shell, but I think its more appropriate here. We can't delete our posts, I guess, or else I would've and just posted it here, and I hope it doesn't violate any board policy. I have just felt this past week, and especially today, lost without Mom. I feel like a little kid who'se lost in the mall and can't find Mommy. I also started missing my Dad, and he's been dead 10 years. But Mom especially. Too many grief attacks this week. But, here's the copy-and-paste of the other topic: For some reason today I awakened and got up earlier than usual (post-Mom death) and managed to get my morning routine (Prayer, breakfast, and, umm, other stuff) done early. Had some hours to spend 'frivolously' so, despite gas prices I went for a drive. Nice, bright sunny day, picture postcard perfect. I live in a rural county in central New York and it has rolling hills and valleys and very nice vistas. Nice place to get away, and be by yourself. Not quite like going away to the mountains, but still, an early morning jaunt around sounded nice. So I drove out and about and stopped at a park and saw for miles and miles. It was nice. A little melancholy for a bit when I was wandering back to the car, I remember doing the same thing when Mom was alive, although I'd usually wait until she was up and settled in for her day. I felt a little bad, partly because back then I would leave and go for these drives just to escape a bit. That made me feel a little guilty, but a voice inside me said that I deserved from time to time back then to do this, to get out and recharge or refresh. I miss my Mom, couldn't tell her about the little drive, wondered what she might've said about when she and Dad lived and whether they spent any time around the parts I drove through, and what they did there. I think I'll head back on out soon, go for another drive before heading to the job. Well, it's 2 hours later, I'm back from the drive, so I'll just do a 'quick edit'. I didn't go that far out of town, despite the sun and scenery. "Gas price reality" set in and I realized that I can't go around joy riding. Not that there's much joy to ride. I went out a ways, turned around and noticed that the route back into town would take me past the cemetary. So I decide to pay Mom and Dad a visit. I doubt anyone's noticed, but I changed my signature to include Dad. I notice upon arriving that the hostas are doing great. Mom and I planted them a few years ago to replace something that wasn't doing well there. Despite the fact that hostas prefer shade, these guys are doing just incredible in full sun. So well that just last year, my Mom's last time there to help me plant, she had me dig up half of each hosta to transplant back at the house, near the patio. I wonder how they're doing now? I'll never know. The hostas were originally from what is now the 'old' backyard. In a few weeks I'll put in the plants that Mom would always get for Dad's grave. Just this year I'll be doing it alone, and for her, too. No one to help me, or to tell me what to do and how, despite that I know. And then it hit me. A full blow grief attack. I cried. I moaned again about how alone I am. I begged God, implored Him to call me home, to be with Mom and Dad. This was for like the 1,000th time since Mom died. He stubbornly refuses to cooperate. Then a crazy thought about how would I be buried? No money! Not that I care, toss me in a garbage bag and haul me away to the county dump for all it matters, it's not like I need a grave for anyone to visit. I can claw my way out of the dump during the Resurrection just as easily as I can from a gravesite. Then I remembered the small inheritance that's coming next month sometime. Enough to have a cheap casket and a funeral very few will attend, and then a small plot, near Mom and Dad if possible, and a bunch of $ left over to pay the Church in gratitude, and the local Hospice. The things one thinks of. Ooops, need a Will to direct all that, so that's on the agenda for next month. So this is what I do sometimes in the aftermath of a death. I pine away and dream of being with the loved ones. ... but I just needed to babble on this. Boy, I miss my Mom. Things were better then. I don't know when I'll ever have a home again. I have a nice place to live now, but its not a home. I'm 43 years old, a guy, and I'm crying in a cemetary, missing my parents.

Thanks for your advice in the email, too bad no one else will have access to your wisdom! I queried said bro about his plans, agenda and itinerary and got a response that amongsbt going here and there, to just 'visit with you for a while', and a question as to do I have any special plans? YEAH, TO BE LEFT ALONE!!!!! It may not seem as bad now as when I received the email saying he was coming. But still, I wish the family would leave me alone for a year. I'm justb not in the mood.

For some reason today I awakened and got up earlier than usual (post-Mom death) and managed to get my morning routine (Prayer, breakfast, and, umm, other stuff) done early. Had some hours to spend 'frivolously' so, despite gas prices I went for a drive. Nice, bright sunny day, picture postcard perfect. I live in a rural county in central New York and it has rolling hills and valleys and very nice vistas. Nice place to get away, and be by yourself. Not quite like going away to the mountains, but still, an early morning jaunt around sounded nice. So I drove out and about and stopped at a park and saw for miles and miles. It was nice. A little melancholy for a bit when I was wandering back to the car, I remember doing the same thing when Mom was alive, although I'd usually wait until she was up and settled in for her day. I felt a little bad, partly because back then I would leave and go for these drives just to escape a bit. That made me feel a little guilty, but a voice inside me said that I deserved from time to time back then to do this, to get out and recharge or refresh. I miss my Mom, couldn't tell her about the little drive, wondered what she might've said about when she and Dad lived and whether they spent any time around the parts I drove through, and what they did there. I think I'll head back on out soon, go for another drive before heading to the job. Well, it's 2 hours later, I'm back from the drive, so I'll just do a 'quick edit'. I didn't go that far out of town, despite the sun and scenery. "Gas price reality" set in and I realized that I can't go around joy riding. Not that there's much joy to ride. I went out a ways, turned around and noticed that the route back into town would take me past the cemetary. So I decide to pay Mom and Dad a visit. I doubt anyone's noticed, but I changed my signature to include Dad. I notice upon arriving that the hostas are doing great. Mom and I planted them a few years ago to replace something that wasn't doing well there. Despite the fact that hostas prefer shade, these guys are doing just incredible in full sun. So well that just last year, my Mom's last time there to help me plant, she had me dig up half of each hosta to transplant back at the house, near the patio. I wonder how they're doing now? I'll never know. The hostas were originally from what is now the 'old' backyard. In a few weeks I'll put in the plants that Mom would always get for Dad's grave. Just this year I'll be doing it alone, and for her, too. No one to help me, or to tell me what to do and how, despite that I know. And then it hit me. A full blow grief attack. I cried. I moaned again about how alone I am. I begged God, implored Him to call me home, to be with Mom and Dad. This was for like the 1,000th time since Mom died. He stubbornly refuses to cooperate. Then a crazy thought about how would I be buried? No money! Not that I care, toss me in a garbage bag and haul me away to the county dump for all it matters, it's not like I need a grave for anyone to visit. I can claw my way out of the dump during the Resurrection just as easily as I can from a gravesite. Then I remembered the small inheritance that's coming next month sometime. Enough to have a cheap casket and a funeral very few will attend, and then a small plot, near Mom and Dad if possible, and a bunch of $ left over to pay the Church in gratitude, and the local Hospice. The things one thinks of. Ooops, need a Will to direct all that, so that's on the agenda for next month. So this is what I do sometimes in the aftermath of a death. I pine away and dream of being with the loved ones. Maybe not exactly on topic, but I just needed to babble on this. Boy, I miss my Mom. Things were better then. I don't know when I'll ever have a home again. I have a nice place to live now, but its not a home. I'm 43 years old, a guy, and I'm crying in a cemetary, missing my parents.

Hi, M, I think we've talked about this wayback. It may be some strange sense of comfort of having a parent around, that at least there's the potential, however unrealized in reality, that they may be able to give us some profound, reality-shaking advice. A wistful hope for perfect parents?

I've already gotten advice on this topic, from me, of all people, but I thought I'd post it anyway, and see what others think. Background: My Mom died last November. A rift has developed between me and my sister who's served as executor of Mom's estate. ("Mom Died and Family Fracturing") The rift was not over money or who gets what, just over "Different Ways of Grieving". (The stuff in quotes are topic titles, in case anyone is THAT interested in the deeper background.) Anyway, I've become somewhat aloof from the family. I am not getting information from anyone re: estate, I have to find things out by driving past the old house or asking the attorney. I've gotten a little comfortable with the status of the relationship, gotten used to checking email the family uses to ignore me and seeing nothing in there except stupid emailed jokes or cutesy pictures featuring animals doing relentlessly cutesy things. Although I do hold out hope or desire for some form of relationship with some, but NOT ALL, of the family, right now, and probably through the rest of this year and on into next Spring, I would like to not be bothered by family in a close proximity way. (Close proximity may lead to detonation.) (Paul, is there a specific POINT you wanna make? OK, OK, go away, stupid conscience.) OK, the topic subject: Got an email from a brother from Southern California. He's coming for a visit in a month. He will not be staying with me, but presumably with our darling sister, and a high school buddy of his. He is one of the family members that I would like to maintain a relationship with of some sort. The darling sister is not. I have always felt judged or assessed in some way when this brother shows up. The advice that I've gotten from me is that when one is in grief, a needed thing to sometimes do is to keep one's distance from some people. In griefwork, a new person is being forged through all the pain and suffering. Trying to incorporate the loved ones' loss into your life may mean that no interference from people that you may have an emotional sensitivity to should be tolerated for a while. My grief counselor likened it to protecting and nurturing a little plant until its strong enough to grow on it own. (Another cutesy image. Ick.)I likened it to pouring a cement floor, you need to let it harden for a while before you can walk on it. New ideas, ways of living, assimiliating the loss and learning how to live again need to be solidified before you can brush up against people with peculiar different ways of grieving. Or worse, feel that you should be over it by now. Or at least, not going to grief counseling sessions, grief support groups and talking to nice people on the Internet about Mom and her death. (No one in the family has suggested yet that I should be over it, or any of the other things, but they're likely to if they bothered to talk to me. I think.) If I tell him, "Thanks, but no thanks, maybe we'll get together next year or later." I know I'll be cast as the villian. Proof that I'm more responsible for the rift than anyone else, because I'm pushing the family away. Of course, in my AA meetings they'll probably wonder why I'm bothered by something that won't happen for a month yet (you know: "One Day at a Time", or "Don't take on more troubles than you've already got, today is sufficiently tough on its own." But still, "Sensors have detected a large group of approaching enemy vessels, shall we go to Red Alert, Captain?" "Captain? Captain? ... Hello? Yoo-hoo, Captain?"

Alone, lost and without guidance, at least of the unique parental kind. No matter how old you are, it hurts like heck not to have a parent around. Just the opportunity to have access to their advice is comforting. Now its gone forever.

One thing I have to keep in mind is to try to discern when "putting up boundaries" is a legitimate need for survival or personal development and strengthening and NOT an attempt at isolation. Isolation...bad. Although I can count on the fingers of both hands and feet how many times I wanted to run away and get lost.

Did Maylissa say that shell is furry in post #11??? ... My f2f (face-to-face) grief counselor said something a while ago that is sort of relevant to shell's postings about demands being made on her. Something to the effect that when you are working through this grief sometimes you may have to put up boundaries to protect the creative process. Remember, in all this griefwork, a new person is being created, and other people's interference (whether it is well-meaning or ignorant) may harm it. You may have to just in some fashion, put up a barrier for a certain period, determined by YOU, until you are open for business. He likened it to protecting a little plant that needs tender care to grow. I likened it to pouring a cement floor, you need to let it harden before you can let people walk all over it. Same thing.

For me the emotional rollercoaster kept going for nearly 4 months. I felt my mind fracturing and really started stressing out that this pain will NEVER end. Religion helped, as well as posting on this board about still going nuts. A lot of postrs helped me get through it, so tara, you are doing the right thing and are in the right place in poking around and finding what other people have written, and in sharing your self. The emmotional topsy-turvy still happens for a bit, but not so much. Remember, everyone is on a different timetable, just know that if you continue to face it like you are, and continue to share and read and so forth, it'll get better, eventually. Maybe harder for you as you've lost so much so soon, but have hope. On sleep, I actually slept longer. Instead of the usual 6-7 hours a night, and going to bed at 9:30 thereabouts, I was hitting the pillows at 6-8 PM, and sleeping 9-12 hours. Only recently, approaching the 6th month mark, are my sleeping habits returning to normal, slowly, but they are. But that's just my experience.

One of the reasons why I wanted to start that volunteer work on Sundays is so that I can continue to care about someone or something. That aspect of me was triggered these past 10 years by my caring for Mom, and I didn't want to turn that off. It almost seemed like a survival instinct, I didn't want that outlet to go away. I dunno, just me, just different, not better. Sometimes I wished I didn't take the volunteer position. Just how deep can one's emotional tank be? Maybe that's why some don't wish to care again for someone for awhile after a loved one dies, they just can't. Its not being cold, just, can't. Snoring??? Omigawd, when both my parent's were alive, it was an opera in the house. You could hear them both from anywhere in the place (big Victorian). I used to joke that the neighbors complain, that the seismic people who track California earthquakes picked them up (we're 2,500 mi/4,000km from SoCal). As I got older, I found it a comfort, and also used to just listen to see if they were alright. Now I'd give anything just to hear a snore. I will never complain about that if any future wife has a noisy nocturnal shnozz. My Mom, such a cute little nose too, where'd it all come from?

Marty said (quoting shell): "I am struck by Shell's observation that "people who have been through it too, maybe a long time ago, seem to forget how it feels," I fear forgetting how it feels, though sometimes it seems as if "how can I possibly?" I think sticking around here, making this place a regular stop, will help prevent that. To forget the loss would mean that the person died again.

Oh, physical. I walk a lot.

Hi, tara, me again. Don't worry about ranting and raving and all that. This is the place for it, we understand. You're among friends. And its best to get it all out. Grief is a process that seems to have its own timetable, and that timetable is determined by it and you, not others. One thing I've learned here is that since its emotional, one can't think it through, you have to let your emotions carry you to where you need to go. Sometimes that means facing a pain, but eventually, and I am going to use a phrase thats used a lot, and we're probably all sick of it, despite its truth and comfort, and that is: "It does get better." When? Sometimes it seems like never, but once in a while you are surprised and somedays aren't so bad, and you can see the meadow beyond the dark forest that you're trapped in. Anyway, like I and others have said before, stick around and continue to share.

Hi tara! Oh, boy, what a topic! I have had a recent loss, which brought me to this board. My Mom died in November 2005. A rift between me and my sister developed quickly, (she is the executor) but the rift is not over things, as in who gets what. The rift developed over our personalities and how we handled it. (If you are interested, goto the "General Grief and Loss" section, and lookup the "Different Ways of Grieving" topic I started. You may get some helpful info there.) How to cope with feelings of rage, anger, betrayal and injustice? First, and this answers another question you had, this DOES complicate the initial grief by making it harder to focus on the grieving process. It was complicated further for me by the fact that my sister's style of grieving was the opposite of mine (that's why I started that topic I mentioned.) You are distracted, you have all these feelings that are competing with what you think you should be feeling. But in addition, a lot of these feelings are natural anyway to grieving. But its worse when some of them are the direct result of other people's less than ethical actions and behavior. My coping with this was helped by my Faith and grief counseling. And so we go to another of your questions. (Boy, you asked a lot! ) I am a Catholic Christian, and that Faith has helped me immensely, especially in the teachings, generally shared by other Christian churches, of offering one's suffering up to God. The idea is that His Son, Jesus, suffered and died for us, and so we, as Christians, are to emulate Him by uniting our sufferings to the Cross. This isn't easy, especially if you're not a Christian, and its hard even if you are a good one. It takes practice, much prayer and meditation on Christ's Passion, Death and Resurrection. But being a Christian, especially Catholic isn't supposed to be easy, anyway. Being bound up in the grief of your loss makes it a bit tough, but for me, a breakthrough came with perseverance. The pain eased, but traditional Christian teachings on Heaven help and comfort. The idea that death isn't final, that death just transforms the relationship helps. Mom and the others I've lost can still help me, and look after me, they are just not physically present. I was alone and lacking in support, because the situation just made relations with family harder. And so here we go to another question. I didn't do alchohol or drugs or smoking. I am an alcoholic, a recovered one, sober now for almost 4 years (May 22, 2002 is my sobriety date). I started AA meetings again, went to 1-3 a day for a month, then switched to f2f grief counseling (f2f means face-to-face. Someone, I won't mention who, didn't know ) To me, all this griefwork incorporates the sobriety stuff, if I don't get a handle on Mom's death, I'll just go back to drinkin'. And I really don't wanna do that! I come to this board a lot, and talk to nice people, and read a lot of postings. I go to that f2f grief counseling, which I cannot recommmend enough! I also read books on grieving. I have a nice library that I am patiently wading through. Instead, I go for walks a lot. It also helps that gas is in the neighborhood of $3.00/gal, nice incentive, but I like to walk anyway. See things better than if you are driving by them fast. I can think much better, and things seem to be resolved better afterwards. It was on a long walk that I took after I had found out that my Mom's old house was sold that I prayed for the new owners. Talk about a release! I felt better and as if a new page had turned. It took a half hour of walking before I convinced myself that it was the right thing to do, but it was a great healing. I have found that I cannot forget or hide. (Well, concerning 'forget', i do have memory troubles, I have a hard time remembering some details of Mom, her daily habits and routines, and this is sad as I did live with her, taking care of her. I sometimes try, and succeed, but there is a pain, so I'll just try again when I am better. The memories are there. Everything that you said in your last paragraph is basically normal. Everyone has common feelings and experiences, although the details differ, of course. Keep sticking around, we need you, too. I hope I helped.

I sort of did the same, shubom. I never stood in the doorway staring, (I chuckled at that ) but since I was 5 or 6, whenever they were napping I would stare at their chests to see if they were still breathing. If that sounds morbid, or just plain wierd, it's because when I went to kindergarten I noticed that everyone else's parents were a lot younger than mine. When I was born, my Dad was 50, and Mom had just turned 47. So, with my warped little mind I assumed that my parent's were going to die soon. That never happened, as Dad died at 83 in Sept. 1995, and Mom at 89 last Nov. But until her last nite, whenever she napped, I would glance at her chest to see if it was still moving up and down. And then one morning it no longer did. P.S. So it may seem that I had been prepared for my Mom's (or Dad's)deaths since I was a youngling. No, not really. Although I didn't grieve much over Dad (I was a practicing alcoholic at the time, so I pickled myself) nothing really prepared me for Mom's death. All the anticipatory grieving may have for the actual death, but nothing prepared me for the absence later.

Maylissa said: "All the 'good books' and sages tell us that our 'mission' is to serve others, so no wonder our true nature takes such a beating when those acts of love and servitude are abruptly ripped away from us!" Now THAT is an intersting take, I didn't consider. Explains a lot. Seems to fit in rather well with what shell and I said and feel.

Hi shell, Yes, I can relate to that. I cared for my Mom off and on for 10 years. She wasn't an invalid except for late 1995 thru most of 1996, and then not again until 2004 to her death in Nov 2005. (Invalid may be too strong a word for her last year, but I was definitely needed. It was to hard and unsafe for her to be alone, she needed me around in case she fell, or needed things, etc. I think she just liked having someone dote on her. When it was certain that she shouldn't drive anymore, (hearing, vision, reflexes) unlike a lot of little old people she had no problem giving up her license because I was going to be her chauffeur. I fixed her meals, made certain she got her medications, took her to her doctor's appointments, brought her home from the hospital (until her last stay). One of the hard things I found after her death was to try to remember the little morning rituals. Her morning habits of the order she would take her meds, fixing her breakfast, her coffee, and so forth. How she liked things done. Of course, that was in part due to the suddeness with which my sister took over the house and started dispensing things to the dumpster, I had no time to 'turn the page' and mourn for a bit in familiar surroundings. But that is in the past and I have new crises to deal with right now, things that I am glad she is not around to see. Anyway, getting back to what you said, yes, I felt that my 'job was done' and that is why for the next few months (Nov/Dec 05, and Jan 06) I wished I was dead. Not that I would take my life as there was a smidgen of hope that this, too, shall pass; but that God would decide that my mission in life, that my purpose was over and I would join my Mom, and my Dad, and my late sister (the good one)in Heaven. Along with a lot of others that are hopefully Up There that I miss. So, yes, I too, am relieved that she no longer has to suffer, that she is safe and free from fear and worry and so on. I keep trying to focus on that, because on occasion I get a little anxiety attack when I think of things as if she was still here, about my worries of taking her somewhere and whether she would fall, or be confused... But that's all over. What to do now? Take care of my life, one day at a time, get through all of the new crises that develop, have faith that God will pull me through, as He did yesterday, a truly awful day, but not a topic for this forum. I think that our 'job' now is us. (And shell, you still have your Mom to take care of, and all the little furkidlets. In a way, I envy you.)

Hi tara, I agree with what everybody has posted here. Please keep in touch. The people I have met here have MORE THAN MADE UP for what is lacking in family (oh, boy, I can go on and on about them !!) and friends. Why are we sometimes abandoned? Who knows, perhaps its that death just freaks people out. Yes, its a common experience, and people just don't want to be reminded that it could happen to them (or one of their loved ones) someday. Or maybe they just feel inadequate to the task, and feel its just best to go away from us for a while. Maybe I'm just being too understanding . But death and grtireving does have a way of rewriting one' address book. (I've said that before around here. I finally remembered where I got it. A great book on grieving entitled: Companion Through The Darkness : Inner Dialogues on Grief by Stephanie Ericsson). You said in one of your posts something about life not worth living. I know how you feel. For various days after my Mom died last November, I woke up resenting the fact that I didn't wake up dead. This included an entire week in December, just before Christmas. I wished I was dead, not in the suicidal way, I was just arguing or reasoning with God that His purpose in my life must clearly be over, what with Mom dead. (I took care of her.) Gradually this feeling has gone, and life is beginning to be hopeful. (I first wrote 'enjoyable', but changed it to 'hopeful'. Enjoyment is a bit further down the road. But hope tells me it will come.) Take care, and please stick around us.

I agree with Maylissa. Perhaps the only solution is to suspend/disable the 'guest posting' option and require people to register. I see no reason why people shouldn't register, "Guests" can browse until they feel comfortable with participating, but registration will enable them to fully be a part (PM'ing, email, profile, etc.) I dunno, I'm just a dumb shmuck who simply wants people to be respectful .

I noticed that either hackers have broken into the site or some idiot with a program exploited the "guest posting" option and posted the 'car insurance nonsense'. This has happened on other boards I participate in, I hope whoever is in charge of protecting this board can delete the offending post and prevent further from joining. It is, I guess, random, and they are not even aware of the nature and content of this place. Reasoning won't work, emailing them won't help.

Hi all. It doesn't help much that Mother's Day (in the USA, don't know if Cananda or the UK has it) is coming up. My first without Mom. Not to mention that the weather is warming up, and it will be soon time to plant stuff at the gravesite. My Mom and I did it each May for my Dad's site, now I have to do it alone for the two of them. Hugs to everyone, and especially to shell (hiya!)

Hi charsmum: I sort of explained "leaning into the pain" in the first post, but I don't mind going on again! It basically means that you do not run from the pain of your grief. You face it. This of course is within reason. It could be anything which triggers the pain of your grief, but also somethinmg that you should face to help you deal with it. It may be visiting the cemetary, seeing or using the things the loved one left behind, it could be facing up to it by seeking out counseling or grief suupport groups. Reading about grief can also be "leaning...". It forces you to learn about a painful subject, but helps immensely by giving you valuable info such as that what you are feeling and going thru is normal. Stuffing your pain won't ususlly work. We've learned on this board, and elsewhere, that you should face the feelings of grief. If you delay or avoid coping with the grief, it may hbe harmful in ways you may not realize. Re-read the previous postings, and also got hunt around this board, you'll find lots of useful information, and helpful people. I'm sorry about the loss of your daughter, there are many people on this board who can be of help.

Hi Shirley. The feeling that there is something wrong with you because you have so much grief is normal. Virtually every single person at this site has felt the same as you do. You think you're going crazy, or your mind is fracturing, or you can't stand the emotional rollercoaster, its all just nuts!!! Well, no, not really. Its quite normal what you're going through. I'm 43, and my Mom died last November. Did I feel like 43? Nope. I felt like a little boy who's been abandoned by Mom. Eventually, you'll get through it and learn to cope. Keep sticking around this board, peruse the topics and you'll find a bunch that will resonate with you. Read 'em, join in and you'll discover a lot of people who'll understand. This place has been a lifesaver.