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scba

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About scba

  • Rank
    Ana

Previous Fields

  • Your relationship to the individual who died
    my boyfriend
  • Date of Death
    2014
  • Name/Location of Hospice if they were involved:
    NA

Profile Information

  • Your gender
    Female
  • Location (city, state)
    Spain

Recent Profile Visitors

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  1. I understand. My boyfriend was dying in ICU. I rubbed his bared feet in despair. Maybe he was gone but his body was still there, functioning through a machine constantly beeping. I asked the ICU workers to do something. They were wearing masks. Her eyes expressed nothing, or maybe resignation. I was standing there surrounded by cables, monitors, machines, rubbing his feet feeling hopeless. Feeling death there. Just there. Because the girl who was in the bed in front of his, passed away the night before. She was in his 20, the only child of a single mother. Death didn't go. It stayed and was wa
  2. Has anyone heard from Mitch? He seems to be absent lately.
  3. It's been a year since I've started working from home and this self lockdown plus isolation has turned me into a workaholic. Before, work didn't enter these walls. Now I find myself being anxious cause there's always something that needs to be done/search/an email to write. I'm finding that I'm feeling like this because I fear the feeling of nothingness, of the void that'll always be there. I'm trying to fill the void with extra work and frustration cause the One will never enter that door again and mark the end of the working day. None cares if dinner is ready or what's happened today.
  4. Thanks for sharing your achievements. It's so important in our journeys
  5. Sunday afternoons and evenings are the worst days of the week. I found ways with coping with Mon-Sat evenings, but nothing seems to work on Sundays, when I feel an utter emptiness, loneliness and pain, and whatever I do it's like it's being done by a machine. The I'm alone hits harder and there's nowhere to scape. Saturdays are easier. I'm so used to now not going out and not having any plans anymore for Saturday while others are enjoying their youth. But Sunday is different. And so I put myself to work so I get tired and go to bed quickly. It feels so empty without him. We cherished our Sunda
  6. I lost my dog two months ago and since then I've been incapable to show affection and attention to other dogs. People expect others to be affectionate to their pets but I can't do that naturally, I feel I'm being forced to show attention to their dogs cause that's the right thing to do with animals. I loved my dog so much, but just my dog it seems.
  7. Btw, I practice yoga but for some reason I'm not a Yogui in mind. If only it's the way my body found to call for my attention. When I stop practising for weeks, my body starts aching a lot. It sooths the body and surely the breathing helps. I highly recommend it. There's a branch named yoga for Grief. I wish I could have practised that with a certified trainer. Perhaps I could get that and help young people like me who was asked to do some excersise but the physical and psycologycal pain was too much for standing Zumba, pilates or aerobics.
  8. Thanks Kieron for your comment and I understand what you mean. All I can say, and I posted it here many times, that our grief for loosing our soulmates means also to learn to live with its and our contradictions. Our landscape is forever changed and they will keep emerging. "Get used to them".
  9. At this point of my journey I didn't expect to feel resentful. A day later and I still see on my social network feeds the pictures of friends with their partners and beautiful comments below. And me feeling that mine is dead and they are all alive and happy. It hurts and there's nowhere to run and hide. I guess the word "evolved" isn't attached to my name.
  10. What a horrible date this is. I feel excluded, not belonging to Valentine's world
  11. Happy birthday! blessed your heart dear Marty
  12. Your writing is very beautiful. Thanks for your words.
  13. I went through a similar experience. I expected to find a big wound in my chest, in my back. Sort of a "stigmata". I remember dreaming with me being the patient getting ready for surgery, laying in a hospital bed while waiting (he died after a major intervention). I could experience in my body what wasn't really happening. I thought I was going crazy. I'm relieved that those days are far away.
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