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  1. I lived with my former best friend and her dog, Christmas, for 7 years. Four of those years were in my home until it flooded. We moved in with her dad who started showing signs of dementia. I was deeply depressed so I had the job of sitting with her dad 70-80 hours a week for 3 years. When he died, I was forced to move out. I missed Christmas so much and felt guilty for disappearing on her like that. I wasn’t even able to visit much at all cause of the jealous ex that my friend got back together with. About 3 months ago, My former best friend gave me Roux, who was a cat I found and we both claimed ownership of, but I let her keep Roux since she had just lost her dad. Her ex was allergic to cats so I was happy to get Roux back. I am living with my son and he has the brother of Roux, so it’s nice to all be together. I was hurting so bad from missing Christmas, and wondered if she felt abandoned by me:( . The guilt was awful. I got a call from my former best friend this morning that Christmas died. She was 9 years old and healthy. She did have a little stomach problem and the vet gave her a couple of shots and medication yesterday. She died? What happened? I helped my friend bring her to be cremated this morning. My heart is broken. So much time lost with her. I wonder if she knew I never wanted to leave her?
  2. An Indomitable Ending The air was cold, sterile even, as I rounded the corner and entered room twenty-two of L&M Hospital’s Emergency Room. Nurses and orderlies bustled busily up and down the hallway behind me, their brightly colored scrubs covered cute animal prints clashing violently with the somber, worried atmosphere of the ER. Monitors and machines in every room and at the nurses’ station beeped constantly in maddening dissonance. The crisp, sharp smell of disinfectant and impersonal care hung heavy in the air. My mother lay to the left, in bed one of ER room twenty-two; tangled in a hopeless mass of wires and hoses. Before I even approached her bedside, I knew it was bad. Her reddish-brown hair, once a vibrant red, is thin and matted down by the heavy straps of the bi-pap mask that obscures most of her face. Mom’s eyes are closed tight, the skin at their corners wrinkled and tense with concentration or pain. I wasn’t sure which. Head lolling to the left, her breath comes in short stunted gasps through her cracked lips. Her entire upper body heaved desperately with each inhalation, drawing in as much precious oxygen as she possible before she had to exhale to purge what CO2 she could. My heart broke to see her like this, struggling for every breath. Just like it did every other time I’ve walked into this emergency room to find her over the past ten years. I sat down heavily in the chair beside her. I took her hand. She didn’t seem to even notice. Her skin felt thin and fragile; like century-old, yellowed parchment that might crumble at my touch. Dark purple bruises covered her arms and hands so thickly from the blown veins and Prednisone that her natural skin tone was only visible in small splotches. The constant courses of steroids have also added small, alien growths, like hard, scaly warts, in random places all over her. Momma’s head shifted limply with each gulp of air as I stroked the back of her hand with my thumb. “Momma,” I called out gently, placing my other hand on her shoulder, “I’m here.” No noticeable response. Blinking back tears, I gave her hand a gentle squeeze, some part of me paranoid that her skin would crack under the pressure and tried again. “Momma? You’re not alone. I am here.” I feel the barest of squeezes back, as though it was all she could manage. I hear you, the squeeze said softly, and I am glad you are here, but I can’t spare any energy for anything else but breathing in and out. One of the nurses bustled up to the other side of her bed, a friendly half-smile fixed to her face. I don’t remember exactly what she said, a lot of the details are missing from those three days, but it was some kind of placating report on how mom was doing. Still waiting for test results; x-rays of her lungs and blood work, I think; and for the doctor to come in. I asked how long my mom had been so unresponsive. The nurse didn’t know. “She was talking to me earlier, a little panicked and confused, but we were communicating. Since then I’ve been trying to let her rest.” (Or something along those lines) I have never seen my mother this far down before. Once, about seven years earlier, she had been close; delirious from lack of oxygen and CO2 buildup, “hypoxic” they call it, but incredibly chatty. My sister Melissa and I could barely understand what she kept trying to tell us through the gasping, slurred speech, muffling of the bi-pap mask, and the constant hum of its compressors. We joked that she sounded like Boomhauer from King of the Hill. It’s odd how humor is our first line of defense when we are standing in deaths shadow. Mom recovered that time, as she has countless times before. Thumbing her nose at her disease and climbing slowly back to her feet. This morning when my phone rang, I almost didn’t answer. I was rushing around getting ready to go over to the nursing home. I had been to see her the day before and knew she was struggling. She had talked about how scary it was to be alone in the nursing home, especially at night, unable to breath. I had stayed all day, just holding her hand or sitting beside her while she slept and had promised to be back the next morning. I picked it up and answered just before it rolled over to voicemail. It was the care manager from the nursing home. She told me they had found my mom in a hypoxic state this morning and had called an ambulance. I had been half-expecting the call based on how mom had looked the day before, but a tight, squeezing fist of fear wrapped itself around the pit of my stomach none the less. We’ve been here countless times before, but despite the familiarity of the situation, it was always terrifying. My wife, Trish, asked me if I needed her to come with me. I had told her not to worry about it, I would be fine. I was wrong. She was in the back yard getting ready to clean out the chicken coop when she answered the phone. “It’s bad. I need you.” That was all I could think to say. No matter how long you’ve watched death slowly overtake someone, you’re still never truly prepared. My mom had fought, suffered, triumphed, and fought some more on a perpetual rollercoaster ride of emphysema, COPD, diabetes, anxiety, hypoxia, and lung cancer for more than twenty years. No matter how bad things got, no matter how much the simplest of efforts cost her towards the end, she never gave up. She held onto her faith in God and her love of her family and just kept going. Breathing in and out, living the best life she could with what time she had left. I often marveled over her strength of character and the power of her will to live; to fight. She had always been a fighter, even as a kid from what I understand. To get up and face the day - every day, though, knowing that she would be battling for every breath, that she would have to weigh every task against her dwindling stores of energy, was incredible. No, she wasn’t always in perfect spirits, and sometimes she wanted to just give up. Who wouldn’t? But she never did, not even on her last day. Watching her over the years, I have often marveled over how much we take the simple ability to draw air into our lungs for granted. We don’t even think about it most of the time, it just happens unconsciously. To slowly lose even the most basic of life’s functions, betrayed by your own body as it is overcome by disease, must be utterly terrifying. People suffering from lung disease, people like my mom, face this horror every minute of the rest of their lives. To keep going in the face of such insurmountable odds, knowing that no matter how long or how hard you fight, death draws inexorably closer, is the definition of heroic. Trish arrived while we were still waiting for the doctor to make his rounds. Just her presence eased my worry slightly; at least I wasn’t alone. Mom was still unresponsive, and I was warring with myself over whether to start calling people. In the end I decide to text Melissa and my niece Lizbeth. They both lived out of state, but if this is it, they would both want to be here. When the ER doctor finally comes in, he is brisk and matter of fact; impersonal. They don’t know what’s causing this exacerbation, her x-rays don’t show fluid in her lungs and her flu test was negative. He had another doctor from the ICU coming down to consult. The ICU doctor was awesome. I wish I remembered his name. He took me out to the nurse’s station to talk about end of life treatment and what steps we wanted to take. He was one of the few that were thoughtful enough to take the conversation out of the room. Mom was dealing with enough just trying to breath, she didn’t need the added stress of listening to us discuss her death. The ICU doctor was gentle, but direct; the next steps would be to intubate and put her on a ventilator in the ER while waiting for a bed in the ICU. I expected this. Mom and I had talked about it again just yesterday. Intubation was ok for a few days at most, and only if they felt she would be able to pull through with the extra help from the vent. I wasn’t prepared for him to tell me he wasn’t sure if she would ever come off it. Then he asked me about other lifesaving measures. Would we want to use suppressors? I had no idea what those were. Apparently, mom hadn’t been this far down before, so no one ever asked me before. The doctor explained that it was medication to keep her pressure up and her organs functioning, but it was only a delaying tactic and it would cause her extremities to ‘whither’ as pressure was maintained in her core. No thank you. Would we want electrical cardioversion (shock paddles) or CPR to try to prolong life. Let me tell you, even if you have talked to your loved one in advance and know their wishes, it is hard to tell the doctor not to try to save their life. But mom knew that when the time came, she was ready. Again, I told him no, but inside I was screaming. I did give consent to intubate. I could tell he truly didn’t think she was going to recover and get back off the vent, that he was phrasing it as “he wasn’t sure” to spare me, but I did it anyway. I just wasn’t ready. I felt horribly guilty and selfish. Guilt was an odd addition to the churning maelstrom of fear, pain, and loss in the pit of my stomach. I rationalized the decision by telling myself that it was to give Melissa time to get here from Maryland. She was already getting ready to come, but not planning to leave until later in the evening so she had time to get her own family settled. As soon as I was done with the ICU doctor, I texted Melissa to leave now. I didn’t want to talk on the phone. I texted Aunt Sherry in Texas to let her know, trusting her to spread the word to family down there. I sent messages to a few other people to get the word out. Then I gave my phone to Trish. She fielded the rest of the calls and texts asking for updates and expressing condolences. Trish was amazing through it all. I am not sure I would have made it through without her. Thank you, Trish, I love you. I am so grateful to have you. The phone tree did its job though. Todd, one of my best friends, walked into the ER room before we ever thought to tell him. Trish’s sister had told his sister, his sister told him, and he just got in the car and came. Todd was a rock for us all to lean on through the whole process. He worked in the background, never leaving until it was over, doing he could make things easier or more comfortable. Food runs, coffee runs, running interference when emotions conflicted, anything we needed. Thank you, Todd, I love you. It meant the world to me. People kept arriving throughout the rest of the day and Melissa made it in around eleven o’clock that night. Mom had made the move up to ICU and we were only supposed to have two visitors in mom’s room at a time. So, the other twenty-odd people took over the ICU waiting room while waiting for their turn to visit. Unfortunately, as inappropriate humor is a staple in my family even at the best of times, we did drive the one other person in the waiting room out. I saw him later in the maternity waiting room down the hall. I still feel bad about that. Sorry whoever you were. The stark contrast between the two rooms was weird. In the ICU things were somber and quiet, voices low as though too much noise would disturb mom even through the fog of morphine. The waiting room, on the other hand, was vibrant and active. Family and friends gathered together joking and laughing, telling stories about mom, reading Cosmo quizzes out loud like a poll, making light of death with a rambunctious celebration of life. It became easier to be in the waiting room. I told myself I was staying outside because there were so many people waiting to visit. While this was true to an extent, I was also hiding. Smiling and laughing with the raucous crowd helped drown out the anguished sobs of the terrified little boy I had shoved into the back corners of my mind. I didn’t sleep much that night on the foldout chair-cot. I knew this was the end, and as the waiting room emptied out and quieted, I could no longer ignore my sorrow. Mostly I just lay there with my eyes closed, numbly waiting for Melissa to have time to visit with our mother. Knowing her heart and mind would need time to assess and process the situation before I could talk to her about what must be done. I climbed stiffly to my weary feet at six in the morning. I had to go get ready for a surgical consult for my back that I felt I couldn’t miss. I should have rescheduled. I was so exhausted and distraught I barely remember what we discussed. Good thing I brought Trish with me. Of course, that was partly because I didn’t think I should drive. After the appointment, I took a four-hour nap in my own bed before going back to the hospital. Yet another thing to feel guilty about. How could I possibly choose a few measly hours of sleep over my mother’s final moments? I realize logically that my guilt didn’t make sense, that everyone has limits, even me. Logic loses to loss though. Almost as soon as I got back, Melissa told me we needed to talk. The haunted look in her eyes told me we were on the same page even before she spoke. She had been talking to the ICU doctor, a different one this time, and she felt that we should extubate and switch to comfort measures only. I let her finish explaining why and agreed immediately. I don’t think she realized I was already there and had just been giving her time to catch up. Together, we went into the ICU and asked to speak to the doctor. This was the real reason I had agreed to intubate, I realize now. I needed mom to hang on long enough for Melissa to get here so I wouldn’t have to face this alone. I had spent years praying that mom would pass away in her sleep, terrified that it would come down to me having to tell the doctors to let my mom die. I used to wake up in cold sweats, still shaking from the nightmares about having them “pull the plug”. Thank you, Sis, I love you. I was so glad to have you beside me. We waited until later in the evening to make the switch to comfort only. We wanted anyone that needed to say goodbye to time to come. We also took calls from distant family, holding the phone to mom’s ear so she could hear them say goodbye and that it was ok to let go. I think we waited a little longer than we needed to, just because we weren’t ready. At roughly nine pm on February 13, mom’s morphine was increased, and the tube was pulled from her throat. There would be no more medical care beyond comfort measures. We were officially waiting for her to die. They had told us that it could take minutes or weeks, no way to tell. It was all a matter of how long she chose to fight. I knew it wouldn’t be long, that she likely wouldn’t last the night. I also knew it wouldn’t be minutes. Mom had been fighting for so long she didn’t know how not to. Her body and mind were spent and ready to lay down arms, but her soul had always burned brightly. The ICU nurse, Natalie, lifted the limit on visitors and the room grew crowded while we sat with her. The energy in the room was charged and expectant, like it was going to happen any second. Mom fought on. We read to her; passages she had underlined in her bible and notes she had taken while studying the scripture. Melissa played gospel music for her on her phone, and we sang along with the songs that we knew. Mom’s favorite was That Old Rugged Cross. We laughed and cried together until the hour grew late and the crowd around us began to thin out. Melissa and I held her hands almost constantly from either side of the bed, and my dad, Glen Sr., stood beside Melissa near mom’s head. They had divorced when I was eleven but had reconciled their difference in the past few years. He still loved her. I could see the heartbreak in his tear-filled eyes but had no room to comfort him around my own grief. Near midnight, with only a few of us left in the room, Melissa and I felt the beginning of the end through mom’s hands. Her energy was different, more subdued, and there was more and more time between breaths. Melissa leaned over to press her finger into the back of mom’s hand as I was holding it. The white spot she pressed into mom’s skin didn’t flush back to pink. One of us asked someone to go get Lizbeth from the chair-cot in the waiting room. At twelve thirty-four am on Valentine’s Day, my mom, Alma Lurlene Madsen, took her last breath. My sister and I were holding her hands, I was stroking her hair with my other hand, my father was holding onto her shoulder, and others were crowded around the bed, some reaching out to touch her legs. She was not alone. She was surrounded by love. She finally let go. I felt her leave. There was a sudden, soft rush of energy through my hands as her spirit went to greet the loved ones that had gone before her. As nurse Natalie, who had been watching her vitals from the nurse’s station, came in, I told her mom was gone before she made it past the foot of the bed. Natalie listened for a heartbeat, then confirmed what I had already said out loud. My mother’s life was over. Barbara Karnes, a hospice nurse and author, wrote that the dying still maintain some awareness of what’s going on around them, that a protective parent might deliberately wait until their child leaves the room before letting go to spare them the pain of their passing. I think she was right. Mom knew that some of us needed to be there. I had promised to hold her hand and make sure she was not alone in her final moments, but she didn’t want it to be a spectacle. I feel that she waited until the crowd had thinned, until there were just a few of us there to bear witness. She wanted a little more privacy, not just for her final moments, but also for our grief. My mom is gone. The world seems dimmer without her light. To lose a parent is to have one of the cornerstones of your foundation ripped out from under you. Before I even had conscious thought, she was there. Even in utero I could hear the hum of her voice through her body before I heard any other sounds in the world. Yet, somehow, I must grieve and learn to carry on without her. I am not certain that grief ever “gets better”. How could it? If you cherish their memory, you will always feel pain over their absence. Sometimes the burden is heavier than others, but I think we just get used to carrying it. On the days when it’s hard, when I struggle just to get out of bed and face a world without my momma, her memory is what lifts me up. If she could face each day, so can I. I have to, to honor her. I must roll over, put my feet on the floor, and stand up. I know it will be hard, but I just focus on breathing in and out. Some of the task before me will be taxing. Sometimes I will want to give up. My mom taught me not too, though, leading by example. So, I will go on, as she did, fighting every step of the way if need be. Of all the lessons my mom taught me, her last was the greatest, and I hope I can manage to manifest it in myself. Like the Chinese Proverb, “Get knocked down seven times, stand up eight” she never gave up. She always climbed back to her feet. She was strong. She was brave. She was powerful even in at her weakest. She was Indomitable.
  3. Hello everyone, To those seeing this who are grieving, who are lost, who need comfort - I send love and light. Most people, like myself, find this place during hard times and that’s ok, because it means we are not alone. My mother passed away over a month ago and her death has devastated me like nothing before. I’m shattered, lost and not myself. My heart and soul are broken and the person I was when she was alive is not who I see and feel now. Everything is different and the pain, the numbness, the lack of connection, hope, clarity, peace and all is the by far, the worst experience of my life. In particular, it’s affecting my relationship, with a person I thought was absolutely “The One.” We haven’t been together long, but had a long friendship pre-relationship and the quality of our connection if unspeakably deep and true. When Mom was alive, she and I were unstoppable. We were inseparable. It was so right. Now, I don’t feel any love, any connection, any thing. I want to be alone and I don’t want to have to care of anyone. The pressure of having to take care of her and be a decent human being is hurting me further. I hate myself for letting her down and for not being able to give her what she deserves. I’m not being mean, or harmful, just sad, just distant and not present. God knows, she deserves better than what I can give now and better than who I am now. And in truth, I am not the same and will never be the same. Before I ask what I came here to ask, a bit about my Mom and I and why this loss hurts so much so. Mom raised me. I never met my father. She never brought me around me, ever. I have no siblings. We were quite poor and she suffered from massive anxiety issues. As a child, I knew I had to stop up and take care of her. I did that. I became an adult way too soon. When I was 12, Mom started having heart and lung problems. In a nutshell, I spent my twenties and thirties taking care of her. You’re talking a million days in the hospital, so much work at her place, you can’t imagine. I was a caregiver and that turned me into a perpetual giver. I take care of people and have never had anyone to take care of me. Mom gave all she could, but she couldn’t take care of me like she wished. Needless to say, I have trouble with letting people in. But I am infinitely kind and loving. I try damn hard to be a good soul. I feel so far away from my partner now. I love her. But I want to be alone and feel that I’d heal better and find peace better if I were alone, without the responsibility of loving and living with my partner. What are your experiences with this? What do you all think I should do? Any signs I should look out for? Thank you all. Wishing you love, peace, presence, good energy and all your hopes and dreams. Love from NYC HeartbrokenJ
  4. My baby of 8 yrs whom We spolied and loved more than ourselves was attacked & killed by another dog while boarding in a kennel facility while me & hubby were on vacation.We have no kids and he is our life!There is a huge guilt on our part.What if we didn’t leave him, what if we didn’t go on vacation, all sorts of “what if.”We’re so broken that we both can’t sleep sincecwe found out (12.22.18).We cry ourselves to sleep & wake up crying.We skipped the Christmas celebratiom as we’re both on bed and miserable.I myself can’t & won’t do anything.We haven’t gone back to work.I’ve been so depressed & can’t forgive myself!I’m still grieving for the death of my dear dad in Aug.And now this.. I can’t handle all the pain!So much emotions overwhelmed me.I don’t want to leave my bed as I can’t stand seeing the rest of the house especially our family room where he stayed for 8 yrs.We have our daily routine that haunts me every second.Please I need advice & help! Thanks!
  5. I still miss my dad, who died almost three years ago. I also miss my friend Hermon, who disappeared from my life a few weeks ago, courtesy of his son. Hermon has dementia and I spent the last year doing everything I could to help him stay in his home as long as possible. Hermon's son Steve got a woman to trick Hermon to get in a car to go have lunch, which was actually on the way to Steve's house three hours away. Steve tried to keep Hermon in his house on a small ranch with an 8-foot chain link fence around it. Steve and his wife were in no way prepared to keep a very healthy and strong man who wanted to go home. After about a week Hermon got over the fence, was captured, taken to the ER, transferred to a psych hospital several hours away, and then placed in an assisted living facility that does NOT have a locked unit and does NOT have a memory unit, which Hermon probably needs, sad as that is, according to a previous assessment. I talked to Hermon on the phone after he had been there for about a week, with his son's blessing, but now Steve does not want me - or anyone - to talk to Hermon, because he thinks that Hermon will soon forget he had a life before, friends, a cat, a home, and all that. He figures if Hermon is out of contact with everyone, he will just settle in and forget everything else. When he was still in the comfort and oriented to his surroundings, he would go into a rage about or at Steve about every day, saying that giving him POA was the worst mistake he had ever made in his life, and raging about how Steve was stealing from him and so on. I figure that is still probably going on, even though he has almost no contact with his son, and the staff is probably reluctant to be open about this, because their occupancy is at about 75%. It seems that Hermon will figure out that the reason he is suddenly living in Steve's town is somehow due to Steve. I also figure Hermon will keep trying to get home. He has no idea Steve is going through Hermon's stuff getting ready to have a big garage sale and then sell Hermon's house. Hermon will need the money to pay for his care at this point, but it seems cruel to have not told him anything about what is going on or where he is or why. Hermon reportedly thinks he is staying at a hotel or maybe someone's home while his caregiver recovers from a hysterectomy, after which she will continue caring for Hermon in his own home. Is this a normal strategy? Lying to someone about why they are no longer living in their home and keeping them in a situation of no contact with anyone from their past? Is this something that facilities do on any frequent basis with elderly confused patients? Does is ever work or do the people just disintegrate and become more confused? Is this ever a good strategy to capture a person with dementia and shut them up with no contact with the outside world? It seems really cruel, but I don't know what that is likely to do to a person who suffers from dementia. Perhaps someone else knows. I find it to be very disturbing, and maybe it is... The other thing that bothers me is that Hermon really has no contact with anyone outside this facility, and so no one really knows what it going on there. Steve told me that he has only talked to his dad twice in the three weeks he has been there, but calls the staff and asks them how Hermon is doing. The staff give him glowing reports about how Hermon is doing well, is happy, busy playing dominoes, and so on. I remarked that there is a financial motive for the staff to give Steve good reports and people in all kinds of facilities do better when family and friends are "looking over the shoulders" of the caregivers by way of frequent visits and contact. I don't think Steve believed me... Any comments from anyone who has had experience with elderly relatives with dementia living in facilities where they don't want to be?
  6. When I was 4 years old I woke to find my greatest nightmare come true. As I walked into the kitchen that day calling her name, completely unaware of the trauma that awaited me, I found her on the kitchen floor. My tiny self did not understand death and I thought she was sleeping. I tried so hard to shake her awake, but to no prevail. So I did what she did for me every night. I ran to my room and got my blanket and pillow and favorite teddy bear. It wasn't until I tried to lift her head and kiss her cheek and the hair fell off her face that I realized my life as I had known it was over. The one permanent, constant thing in my life, the one thing I thought would always be there, was now lifeless. I'm 24 now and that day still haunts me. I have blamed myself for not doing more (even though she was gone long before I had even awoken), I have blamed her for leaving me, I have hated myself and God and every one around me. I have struggle with depression, anxiety and been suicidal. 8 years later my brother was diagnosed with cancer and 8 months after that he passed. I lived through hell and fought at it's very depths to get out. Next month is the anniversary of that dreadful day but I can say now that I have truly healed. No one, NOTHING, can replace my mom. But I have found a love and a happiness I never imagined I would have again. My soul still aches from the sting of her death and I still shed a lot of tears. This anniversary is hitting me harder than I expected. I can't help but think of all the things she has missed. And I wish more than anything that she could see me now. My heart will forever be broken from losing her. But I hope to always live as someone she would be proud of. I'm grateful for the examples of the people in this forum and my heart hurts for those who are hurting too. But I promise you are not alone and I promise that while your loss will never go away, the pain will dull and you may even find yourself smiling again one day - I did. As part of my healing and my gratitude for the strength I have been given to endure, I started an initiative called The Mom Effect. It is a space and community where we can come together to be what each other needs. I am a firm believer that we can heal eachother. That I hold the missing pieces of someone else's heart in my hands as they do mine. No one can replace what you have lost, but so many people understand that kind of hurt and can give to you what you are missing. I have also started a blog about my healing and the things I've learned. I'm not trying to solicit but do hope that my experiences can help someone else who is enduring their own hell in this very moment. passionateponderings.com @themomeffect
  7. I think one of the things that bothers me most about grieving is when people apologize for my loss. Not when I tell them, or they know me or I'm confiding in them like this fourm, but strangers will do it. The first time that it ever really got to me is when I was still working. It was very fresh, only a week or 2 since it had happened. Our job was a pretty tight knit community, like a family, they had watched me grow up, they knew me my whole life. A new person started working there. When she first introduced herself to me she apologized for my loss. That bothered me. So much. It still does to thia day. This total stranger to me just apologized about something so deeply personal while getting our introductions out of the way. It left me with a bitter taste in my mouth and made me feel worse because now I just had the impression that everyone was talking about me. Not just people I knew, but people I would never meet. It was hard enough to lose my mom, but now I have to be "dead-mom-girl" behind my back too..? I hated the way my grief and personal tragedy was being used like a conversation point, "Oh yes it's so sad, she lost her mum, and she found her body." "Oh really?? That's so tragic.." I still have strangers pretty much apologizing to me about it. It's been over a year. Granted it's come up again but it just hits a nerve with me. I can't tell every single person not to say that to me, and it would be a waste. It's easier if it's over facebook to just say thanks and move on. In person I don't even always say thank you. I save that for when I mean it. I said thank you about it in person for the first time recently. She was heartfelt about it, and it wasn't so sorry just for my loss, it was sorry for my suffering, it was sorry for the experience, it was "I'm so sorry." Normally when someone says "I'm sorry for your loss" I just say "yeah..me too.." I know people don't know what to say, and are just trying to be nice, but does this bother anyone else too? I feel like I'm being bitter over it and society expects me to just accept it like it is a compliment. And usually people will try and use it in a way when they are trying to sell me something, or get me to do something for them. It just seems such poor taste to me..
  8. On the outside I am very successful. I have a good job , nice home and kids who live away and are doing well and a nice boyfriend who likes to spend time with me . Yet I feel so alone in the world. There is a deep sadness that shows up on Sunday afternoons that reminds me of all the losses my dad who died suddenly when I was 9 years old my mom 2years ago and now my dog that lived for almost 15 years. I see mothers and daughter andpeoplewithfamily a foam so jealous that I never got to experience family peace. One of four children we barely talk we were never close. I have tried mindfulness exercise writing etc and that feeling never goes and nooner really understands. I think if maybe I could connect with others in a similar place it might help me heal. I am totally open to any kind of support. Thanks so much
  9. Okay, so my boyfriend and I have been together for 4 months now. but after being together for a little over 1 month, his brother tragically and suddenly passed away. Since then, he has been a totally different person. I have been there for him since the second he got the news, and I haven't left. We had a fight where he spoke to me and treated me in a way where I won't condone in a relationship that has been built on mutual respect and honesty. (this wasn't the first time and he blames the outbursts on his anxiety about his brother) I have been VERY understanding about his outbursts and high level of anxiety due to his brother's passing. But out of anger I broke up with him, he didn't seem to even care. Later on that day I call him to talk and take back what had happened.. but he did some self reflection and realized that he "needs space" because he doesn't want to treat me the way he has been treating me. What I don't understand is why he needs space from only me and why he is only pushing me away and is more involved with being with his friends when I have been nothing but good to him and there for him. He hasn't made me a priority at all since his brother died and I understood he has so much more going on, but why is it okay for him to be with his friends and not me? Why am I the only one that he needs time away from? I'm giving him the space he asked for, but it is really hard for me because he was so contradicting and confusing and refused to really talk about it. I love him and I believe what we have is special and he says the same...but then why the sudden change of heart.
  10. Hi. I'm 24 years old, and I have gone through the biggest tragedy ever to fall on my family. My beloved father passed away unexpectedly of a massive cardiac arrest. He was a healthy man with no history of cardiac problems or any major health related illnesses. He was an exceptional dentist, loving husband, and a beautiful, beautiful, beautiful soul. He passed away on April 7, 2017. I was devastated. I grew up with three younger brothers, and naturally they bonded with each other while I was always an outsider. My father had always sheltered me and he befriended me at a very young age. I learned to depend on him as a friend and as a father, and later on as a mentor as I chose to pursue the same profession as him. Our bond was unique and it was much more than just a father daughter relationship. We were the best of friends, and he would always adjust his role according to what I needed...from being a fashion advisor to an older brother to my best critic...the list goes on. He was the center of my universe. After his death, I tried my best to cope with his sudden departure. I kept telling myself he's now at peace and no longer under the tremendous amounts of stress he was dealing with during the last year of his life. I found peace when I told myself I could have him live through me through our shared passion for life, nature, and dentistry. I aim to be the best dentist I can push myself to be to carry on my father's legacy. I managed to be progressive even after my dad's death. Ten days later, I was on a train to Boston to find a quiet place to work on my college applications, and I managed to write a very moving personal statement. I returned home feeling like I had done something my father would be proud of. My feelings of contentment were short lived. My younger brother wasn't doing well after my dad's death. He became very aggressive and mentally unstable. I had to send him to the hospital out of fear that he may hurt himself or someone around him. After returning from Boston, my brother returned home the next day after a two weeks stay in the behavioral sciences section of the hospital. I was really worried he would be angry with me because I was the reason why he was locked up in a room. He didn't want me visiting him at the hospital during those two weeks. Naturally, I decided not to be home when he returned as to not upset him. He came out looking for me. He was very weak and could barely gather enough strength to walk more than five mins. He was on heavy antipsychotics and was always tired and drowsy. He came to find me on his longboard and gave me the tightest hug and told me how much he loved me. He thanked me for sending him away and told me how it was important and someone had to do it for him. For a second there, during that moment.... time stood still and I almost forgot my father had passed away. Just for a few seconds, I felt like everything was okay and everything will continue to be okay because my brother was there, and I could always fall back for him to catch me. My brother killed himself three days later. No one saw it coming. We all thought he was getting better. He was twenty. It was the 29th of April, just three weeks after my father's death. I was devastated. Beyond heart broken. I was confused and angry. I didn't understand why he left the way he did. I felt guilty. I felt as if I wasn't a great enough sister to him...that I didn't try hard enough to understand him. My brother was a very conflicted young adult. I always tried my best to reach out to him, but he would never want to talk about himself. He was battling his own demons, and he didn't want to share anything about himself with anyone...not even his own parents. Even though I have lost two family members within 20 days, I am still able to function and perform my daily tasks and carry out my responsibilities. I am broken inside. The pain doesn't go. But I try my best to not fall into despair. The reason why I am writing here is because I am just so tired of not being understood by anyone. By being alienated and losing people who I thought were my friends. People have just stopped talking to me or reaching out to me, and they say things like "we don't know what to say". I don't like it when people say that or when people tell me to be strong for my mother and my remaining two younger brothers. I am strong enough as it is to be able to continue living my life and working hard for my dreams. I was in a long distance relationship for three years. We met every six months and spent hours over the phone daily. We were planning to end the distance once I graduated from graduate school. When my dad died, I asked my boyfriend to leave. I wanted to be alone and didn't have the energy in me to share my emotions or anything with anyone else. He refused to leave and told me he would be there for me as my comfort and support. He followed through for two days and then he got lousy. I wouldn't hear from him for two or three days and then he would resurface and talk to me. Sometimes I would have to call him out and ask him why he wasn't paying me any attention. I didn't expect or want long phone calls or Skype sessions. He couldn't visit me because his visa was still pending. I just felt better waking up every morning receiving a loving or encouraging text from him. Was that too much to ask for? He would blame his work or he would tell me he was busy with family. And whenever we did talk, he never really asked me how I felt or what I was going through and if I did express how I truly felt after my dad's death, he would never know what to say. That didn't bother me though because I don't really think there is anything that anyone can say to make me feel any better especially when my loss was so recent and so unexpected. He and I ended up discussing a trip to see him because he couldn't come visit me. I booked my flight to see him three weeks after. While waiting for my flight, I continued to feel that he wasn't really being there for me the way I would have liked him to be. I even told him what I wanted from him, he would do it for a day and then he would get lousy and disappear again. At this point, I had decided that I was going to see him and break up with him in person because I didn't need someone like him during my time of need and vulnerability. (Im a very self sufficient woman and I've learned to depend on myself only and I know exactly how to take care of myself. I left home to study in a foreign country at the age of 18 and that helped me grow in so many ways.). However, my brother passed away a week later and I was beyond shattered. When my boyfriend found out, he came back to being an affectionate and caring boyfriend. He said all the right things and paid attention to me. I forgot about dumping him and liked how he was being caring. He started counting down days and told me he had a surprise trip planned, and that I wouldn't know where we were traveling until I met him. I went along with it. I had a pleasant distraction, something to look forward to just for a short time. I went to see him. The first three days were pleasant. He was a doting and affectionate boyfriend. We did everything a normal couple would do. We were happy. I felt at peace. After three days, I found out the surprise was a six day trip to Portugal. I thought it was very sweet of him. We got to Portugal and the next day, we went to see Lisbon. We were sitting by the water when he chose to tell me that he felt happiest when he was alone and that he didn't want marriage or kids. He told me he no longer saw a future with me because I wanted to eventually get married and have kids. I was so shocked. It made no sense. He was always the one who would talk about kids with me. I would feel uncomfortable because it would make me feel pressured. I wasn't ready for kids or marriage and I told him that. And his reply was that I want it in a few years and he doesn't want either things at all. I honestly don't believe it. I also know he wasn't cheating on me. I feel like he was a coward and he chickened out when my life fell apart and he didn't know what to do. He was afraid of commitment and responsibility. I was the partner who was always the most giving, and when I stopped giving and became vulnerable and it was my time to take, he wasn't ready to give. He was selfish and immature that way. He told me how he thought I was perfect and how he knows no one will ever love him the way I do..but he has big plans on establishing a huge business and retiring by the age of 40 and that for him to make his plans a reality he needs to sacrifice certain things in order to live other dreams. I was really shocked. He told me that he loved me but not the way I loved him. He told me he loved himself too much. He told me that he wanted to continue knowing about me as a very good friend. I booked the first flight out and chose to leave him. He spent the last few hours holding on to me and asking me to keep in touch as a friend...telling me he didn't want to lose me. It wasn't fair to me, and it was confusing that he wanted that. He still texts me asking me how I am doing. I don't reply. All this is pretty recent. It happened just a week ago. On top of all this, a friend who Ive been friends with for ten years told me I was no longer welcomed at her place. I had stayed at her house for three days and one night we were talking about how I was feeling. I have a hard time crying, and don't reallyy cry much. I get frustrated. I ended up getting frustrated and was shouting about how I felt while being frustrated and she took it personally. I'm beyond disappointed and shocked that some people can be so ruthless and cruel even to people like me who have lost so much and it's all so recent. I am trying my best to keep it all together, but inside Im just really disappointed and hurt. I feel so lonely. I know I am better off without these two people in my life, but it still doesn't take away the hurt or disappointment. My ex showed no empathy or emotion as he sat there saying hurtful things, breaking my heart. And as I sat there crying, he listened to music on his phone using his headphones and ignored me. He never had the decency to drop me off at the airport. I had to take a cab on my own at four am in a country where I didn't even speak the language. I know I am better off without him. I will never reply to him or give him any satisfaction. I just don't understand why he won't stop texting me. I don't know why he behaved the way he did. The reason he gave me seems like bullshit to me. I don't buy it, and because I don't believe it, I don't really have closure. I know there's no point asking him because he won't give me any answers. Im just really lost and confused. I feel so alone. My life seems to be chore right now. I have some really pleasant days and then I have days where I don't want to talk to anyone and just want to be miserable. It's only been a month and three weeks since everything happened. Im tired of grieving and being sad. It exhausts me and then I feel guilty because I know both my father and brother wouldn't want to see me be miserable..but I can't help it. I am happy and then I wish I could share my happiness with them and when I realize I cant, I become sad. It's a cycle. I also don't know who is being kind to me because they actually want to be kind and they care or they're just being kind because they cant help but feel sorry for me. Everything just seems really confusing and overwhelming right now. On the outside, if someone were to meet me, they wouldn't know about what Ive been going through. I laugh and smile and make jokes and behave normal. But inside, I just feel this void and it gets bigger everytime someone hurts me. I feel alone and lonely. I feel like no one understands. I lost unconditional love when my father passed away. My father and brother's death destroyed my mother, and no one is really the same anymore. She's being strong just like me. We all seem to behave normally to anyone who meets us. I hate feeling alienated and alone. I wonder if I'll ever find love. I cant believe my boyfriend left me the way he did. He could have left when I told him to and when I was ready to let go. It was more painful that he played with me for three days before he told me what he really wanted. I know I am being redundant. I should stop now. I've been holding it all in for so long. I just dont understand how some people can be so cruel. Will I ever be loved? Will I ever be able to be happy without feeling sad about it later? K.
  11. She was my best friend, my companion and my constant for 7 years. From a kitten I bought her up, raised her and although she wasn't as affectionate as I'd have liked I loved her & she loved me. Our time together cut short on Thursday night, I knew something was wrong when she didn't come in, I called her & called her but nothing. At 5.30am still nothing so I got up looking for her outside, eventually confronted with a note on a tree stating a dark tabby had been found but not alive. I just knew. By midday I had her body and took to the vets for cremation. My grief is huge, the loss so painful, I'm 42, 43 tomorrow live alone, have lived alone for 13 years and she was my only daily companion. She was killed outside my home, on her way back in to me. I hate being at home, it's empty, it's the scene and constant reminder of what's happened, I just don't know how I'm going to ever recover. How will I ever get past this awful painful devastating time??
  12. "It isn't one single feeling when it happens. It's an empty feeling, that follows you around forever and ever." Each morning I wake up and wish for just a touch of your hand, that would be enough... 02 May 2016, my life changed forever. It was around 8 pm when I received a call from Alpha's brother telling me that he had passed away in a car accident driving from home back to his city of work. My initial response was "No! it can not be! I was talking to him that morning and he was telling me he was washing his car, preparing to drive to Durban", then I dropped the phone quickly thinking maybe it was a prank. I went to check his 'last seen' on whatsapp and found it was earlier in the day so I texted him and asked where he is and if he is safe. I anticipated his response but it never came... That moment I knew, he was really gone. The next few days, I sobbed and never got any sleep because I was failing to imagine what it would be like living without him. I met Alpha in 2009 at the age of 18. His brother is a very close friend of mine and we were in high school together, he hooked us up. At the time I felt I was too young and he also had a lot of emotional baggage he needed to deal with. Then we became friends but always had feeling for each other. He still pursued me and only in 2014 we decided to give it a try. I was loved, he was my everything, everything I ever wanted in a man. Kind, patient, caring, giving, selfless, dedicated, hard working, smart, prayerful, loving and just everything beautiful. He went to the moon and back for me. He gave me the kind of love and respect I was longing for. He was saving up to pay Lobola (dowry) for me in December 2016. We shared dreams, plans and the future. I cry about everything that concerns him. I cry at the mention of his name. I cry at how I never got to tell you just how much you mean to me. I have so many regrets, so many what ifs; its driving me crazy. Its like you left me in a room of emptiness where this feeling of darkness is just weighing heavy on my heart. At times I sit ad wish he took me with to the grave. I wish he never left me, because he was my life and now I have nothing to live for. I don't wanna work, I don't wanna see people, I just want you back and tell me we can still get married. You are everything and without you I am truly nothing at all. Thank you for reading this.
  13. My mom died on Sunday, June 12. I have so many mixed feelings since she was suffering. The last few months have been hard, living in limbo. She was diagnosed two years ago with primary liver cancer and to complicate matters, she also had non-alcoholic cirrhosis and needed a transplant. The tumors were successfully killed and she was on the transplant list when additional tumors were found elsewhere. The experimental therapy kept some from growing, but others grew and at the end, it was everywhere and her liver failed. She was a fighter and held on until my twins were born last August, and then we found out my brother and his wife were also expecting twins...she fought and fought, and they were born April 28. After that, she really declined. I'm angry that she suffered and I'm angry that I lost my mother. We haven't been able to do things, like Christmas shopping, for some time due to health problems...and now I never will again. It makes me so sad. I can't call her when my baby gets a new tooth, or walks for the first time. I feel so cheated. I try to think that I got her for 33 years, but, it still feels short. I was watching TV the other night and one of those retirement home commercials came on, and I thought how I won't ever have to worry about that because my mother is gone. And it just brought a wave of sadness. I really feel for my grandparents, however...my mom is the 3rd child they've lost in the last 5 years (one to suicide, one to alcoholic cirrhosis and one to cancer). To complicate things, my dad also has stage 4 renal cancer. It has spread to bones and lungs so far, but he's doing quite well at the moment, tumors aren't growing. However, he's on his 4th drug and I know it is a matter of time until it quits working. He truly has defied the odds, but...still, it makes me so mad. I am also the only daughter and the youngest of 3, so I feel a lot of responsibility suddenly. My mom was the communication hub of the family, the party planner...she was very kind, very social. I'm very introverted, pragmatic...very different. I feel that I need to step up and take over things like planning our parties, ensuring birthday cards are sent. The void she left is so huge...and I don't feel capable of filling it.
  14. Hello My Name is Shannon I am new to the forum. I lost my significant other of 6 years only 4 months ago. We shared 4 children together and life is just not the same. I cant figure out why I am numb, frozen and slowing down. Things have gotten very hard, I truly don't want to express how hard. The pain I feel is crazy but I keep striving to be positive and to also find a new identity in this process. Nothing is the same. I started a blog only a week ago called grievingd.com dedicated to him in hopes of finding other women(or anyone) who has lost their partner because I feel very alone in my battle I wanted to express my feelings truthfully and freely amongst individuals in hopes to connect and help heal. I lost Damian to murder so connecting with people who understand that part as well were my hopes. Id like to hear other stories and also have the wisdom of others as well. Hopefully this site can give me this , but I would love for other women to connect and share their stories as well and hear me vent lol...
  15. Eleven days ago, On February 16th at 5 pm, I came home from work to discover my sweet precious wife, Rose Anne, died while I was at work. She had medical issues but nothing in life prepared me for this. She had her headlight on and the pulse/oz on her finger. She switched over to the portable tank, Which I know had at least 1 hour of oxygen left. I thought maybe our home lost power so that is why she switched over. The Pulse/oz meter was still on but it flat-lined. She had a calm peaceful look on her face and she looked like she was getting some peaceful sleep finally. I called out to her, and screamed, " O God, not today!" but she didn't answer. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this. We were married for over 25 years and inseparable since we met almost 26 years.we are the best of friends, dear companion and exquisite lover. I called 911 and the emergency crew came and confirmed what I already knew. It took the funeral home three hours to pick up her body. Now she is gone and I will never get to talk to her see her smiling face and just enjoy each others presence. In an instant I am single again and alone. There is much more to this story of our life. We are blessed to be strong believers in Jesus Christ as our Lord and Savior. The pastor, church and many friends have come along side. I will share more as my heart can release it and give everyone more background as to her health condition. Rose Anne has been on dialysis for the last year along with many other complications from Diabetes. I did everything I could to be at her side; to help her,;take care of her, shop, cook, clean; and help her get dressed and get into the car because she was getting weaker and weaker each day. We had the memorial service for her today and many friends and family came to pay their respects. The pastor did a wonder job of sharing Rose Anne's life. So here I am trying to figure out how to live without my beloved, Rose Anne. Thinking about it takes my breath away. I only average 1/2 to 2 hours a sleep a night now and have lost my appetite for food. I want her to come back and be together now but that is not reality. And I really don't know how I am going to live a life without her. I love her so much. I have never been so anxious to get to heaven to see Jesus and my sweetheart. Well, I am going to try to get some rest and will fill you in on the other details of our situation. Thanks all for listening. Shalom
  16. This is my first post, very new to this online group thing. Lost my amazing, beautiful, wonderful 41 yr old husband on February 23rd 2015. Wondering if I will ever wake up and not remember how many days it's been. Wondering if I will ever make it through an entire day without crying. Wondering if the new me is someone that my old friends are still going to love. Wondering if I will ever un-see what I saw in the hospital. Wondering why this happened-to us- when all we asked for was to be allowed to love each other in our own little corner of this world. Wondering how I will survive. I know I will, just unsure HOW.
  17. To our best boy, our Chappie boy , our best friend forever, 01/7/2002 - 12/20/2015. Our way home, our path to a better life. You gave us the best 13 years we ever had. You were our best boy, we miss you so much, we hurt every second, and we want you back so so bad. We are so sorry you had to go this way. We feel so sorry you had to feel any pain. we cried behind your back so you would not be stressed because we knew how much you didn’t like us to be sad until the end was near we could not hold back our tears and we cried with you in our arms, we felt so bad as you got sick we didn’t want you in anymore pain, you got so sick so fast we tried to take your sickness away by taking you to the doctors and even tried different ones, we finely found a vet that promised us some hope. You did so good after your operation , we thought you was free of the cancer , after your operation you did so well everyone even the surgeon was so shocked you were so perky you were running again walking and eating back to your young self, it was the best week we had for that year. we found your cancer was so ruff we did everything we could to help you dear boy our best friend we cried during your surgery we prayed asking for you to come back to us safe and sound to your home you came and incredibly you were back on your paws you were so good we brought you to your favorite places and we shared a few good days we thought it was gone the horrible tumor was gone for good , the morning we saw that lump come back we took you right back to the vet they did another test and the test was 2 cancers in one we almost died we was so sad so shocked it was coming back again and fast it was two types of cancer in one spot, it was so fast boy I’m so sorry we tried everything to slow it down but it was coming back to take you away, you lost so much weight and would not eat we fed you with a syringe and wet your lips when you were so thirsty we got you the best organic foods that you loved Beef Bison salmon and pork chops , so sorry to take away the carrots and sweets for we were trying to starve the cancer of sugars . we got you everything we could we did all we could to make you cozy and full, we held you in my arms for 3 weeks as the cancer got worse, watching you throw up was heart breaking we know you were so thirsty and it was so hard not to see your thirst go away daddy packed your dressing with Manuka honey and essential oils to try to soften your area so you could poo and fight infection , We soaked you in the tub only to sooth your ulcerated wound, we took you to the doc as much as you hated them they all realy loved you tried their best to Help us , we got you the top supplements to boost your body and fight the cancer toward the end you could not drink your water and hold it down you didn’t want to eat anymore you were so sick boy your poor eyes were starting to sink in, we were your helpers your nurses you parents your companions we helped you as much as we could, Daddy and mommy went above and beyond to make you better but the cancer was too much it spread so fast without us seeing it was already there destroying your insides, when we first noticed something was wrong we took you to the doc a number of times but they said they couldn’t help you anymore . at the end we was so upset we did not sleep for 3 nights as we took turns holding you in our arms and sleeping by your side. when we got up you would cry for your mommy and daddy to come back and we would run back to you boy . For we will remember your first bark when you was only 4 months old and last howl at 13 years, whenever Daddy was away at work mommy was there for you daddy had to work and he would feel your pain when working he would sometimes break down and cry at work. We knew it was very bad when we felt the hunger in your belly but would not eat and could hear you breathing funny in your sleep. We didn’t want to throw in the towel we wanted to fight it more but we couldn’t bear to see you in any more distress and pain. Toward the end your bum was so ulcerated and so painful we couldn’t let you go on any more. We didn’t want to see you go I held the phone in my hands for three nights finding it too hard to make the call. we just couldn’t see you like that anymore after all the years of our going for walks and going for rides to the park going fishing and camping playing ball, you walking with your skunk toy and fox tail, every day daddy came home from work we really di love you greeting me at the door to take my hat , this year we will really miss you pulling the Christmas tree down the trail with Sukie beagle we will have to take your place for we don’t know if she will pull it without you there . We went for a walk and she smells you’re sent and looks all around we think she thinks you ran away and will be back she looks to your bed every night to see if you are back. All the good days we had together. You really were our best of boy. We couldn’t bring you to a place to let you go so we called a nice doctor who come to the house with here bag of things to take the pain away, she insured you would pass with no more pain, daddy held your head to my head like we would do before bed and every morning before we left for work, mommy held your hand and Andrew rest his head on your back we felt your last breath as your drifted to the other side to the end we always said we would be there with you till the very end the end was here end we love you we had to stick to it and we did , it was by far the hardest thing we ever did but we knew we had to be there till the end it’s what we promised you your whole life I’m so sorry the end was now, we always just thought one day you would pass in your sleep and old happy dog we really didn’t want you to suffer from sickness daddy and mommy always love you we have taking your pain away now and put it right into us . My eyes bleed like never before you were our love our past and present you are always with us we will never forget you , my only wish is to see you one day when we pass to play tug and sniff in the woods together, i ask you to make us a place there where you are we will see you again , we hope you found your way we hope you found your friend bun buns were sorry about her to, she was your friend we knew when she passed you missed her dearly we are gathering all your pictures I’m putting them all together so we can see you all the time , suki beagle your companion is still at the fridge barking for food she thinks you are in the woods she goes in the yard and watches the woods for you she is confused for now she misses you and we will take care of her just like you I’m sure she will be there with you soon for she cannot stop eating. we will never forget the day we took you home , you were the most hansom beagle you walked like a show dog you were so tiny with your dome head that bumped the coffee table , we lived in a small apartment that would not take dogs when you learned about your bark we could not hide you there anymore , we would take you in and out hiding you in a back pack till you grew out of that , we finally moved , boy it was you that helped us move on to a new place away from the city , a place so peaceful we enjoyed you every moment , we will miss you till the day come that we can be together again, we will walk together and you will show us your new home . You were and always are my best friend best companion. Our best boy, Buddy Chappie Beagle. You rest easy, You will be greatly missed love always, Mommie, Daddy, Andrew and sukie .
  18. I am upset because my mother died on August 25, 2014 (last year) right before my birthday. (My birthday is August 24) I haven't been talking about it with anyone except this one friend who is a girl. However, I have had a lot of symptoms due to this loss. For example, my grades have gone down, I do not talk to any of my friends/teachers/family with the exception of a few. I also do not participate in class and I am mentally shutting down because I shut everyone else out. However, my parents are probably the most concerned. However, they also lied to me about my mother. Okay, well here is the whole story. I was 6 or 7 years old and she just vanished. I was so young at the time I did not care very much however I was a little upset at first. Then I turned 10 and I begged myself to see her again and this time, I was a bit more curious, so I asked my dad questions. I asked him "where was she?" and "When will she be home again?" My dad told me she was at a hospital. Then, a last month in October, they told me the truth. She was never in a hospital...she was in jail. She was a drug addict and she needed money to recover so she robbed a bank. When I found out this information. I got mad and depressed. All I do is yell at my dad's girlfriend who I yell at because I think she is trying to replace my mother even though she claims she is not. However, I am still in disbelief. It is really hard to get over this and I am forced to go to therapy but they make me. No matter how much I do not want to. I don't know what to do and I am always so down and upset. That is why I am here. Hopefully, one day I can get over my mother...I am upset and mad at her. But since she is not here, I feel like I redirect my anger at my dads girlfriend which seems silly but she is also the closest and easiest target. Now all I do is disappoint everyone with my grades and silence. One day...Please help me if there is any quick and efficient way to get over this stage of grief. Thanks everyone!
  19. My wonderful friends. I posted this (below) on a certain part of social media. I agonised over it. Why? because certain people in his family can only have access to certain media and they are suffering too. My Husband's brother lost his beloved wife last year to breast cancer and my husband was desperate about it. It is my way of letting them know we are family. I have never been to Iran. My husband wanted to see his country once more before he died. WE had a plan. It was not to be. As from Saturday, I won't be in contact for at least a week because I will be at my Mom's house. There is no internet access. I don't know how I feel. Actually I do. I am bereft. I almost completely alone and I am just the only adult in my little tribe of 2. Mom said 'this house is yours' to Max, and my husband always said 'promise if anything happens to me you WON'T sell your mom's house' ... My husband and my mom adored each other..... So, I will put the key in the door in 2 days and there will be my ghosts. My beloved ghosts,...my father (1st) then my grandmother and then Mom (Can't even go there x 3) and now my beloved husband. The love he gave me kept me breathing throughout. As I write, I weep. Where the heck does this amount of salt from you eyes come from? Does anyone else's eyes have crust? I have never loved so much. I was given unconditional love. He was the one that gave me the world and also KNEW my grief He lost his mom aged (6)Those big strong arms that said 'I am here' and just held me. I will walk into that house and see his coffee cup on the sink, his work clothes on the floor (he left 1 week after us.but of course he took us to the airport (Manchester) and wept when we left him and Max and I, flew back to Belgium because of school) there will be the food still in the freezer. I have lived with this horror once before. Putting the key in the door after Mom. I was grumpy woman I remember 'pushing him off' with unforgivable words like 'she wasn't YOUR mom' or 'You just don't understand' The day of the funeral He 'heard' her loud and clear. Hardly surprising looking back because they were the two purest hearts. My Mother's wake was held in a park. I sat at a table in the the gardens and saw (in the distance) my husband's heartbreak of Mom. He wept and wept and wept. I will never forget it as long as I live. The loss of a parent in adulthood is horrific. The loss of a partner who held your hand throughout ...quite another. Thank you to Baback's Iranian family in Brussels ( for his Moroccan friends too) for those also from every continent ( his family in the US & Canada and throughout Europe ) here is to you all, for keeping Max and I in your hearts. So many of your friends, my Baba(my love) said 'We loved him.' I walk alone now on this earth, for however long, no one knows . But the legacy of love and caring continues. We are, and your friends,the continuation of the magnificent soul you were on earth. I will never 'get over' you, but we always talked about that you and I. There is no getting over your soulmate. There is simply doing what YOU would want. That is seeing our son live and be happy. We will, next week, make the hardest journey I have ever made in my lifetime. To an empty house. Empty of YOU, Mummy Daddy, Nanny. Putting that key in the door.. only you loved enough, my beloved, to fully understand. It is a lonely plough to furrow. Different continents/religions/1 heart always. My Baba I will love you forever. I am doing this for our love and our son.You are mine and I am Yours
  20. I lost my 11 year old pug Shrek on Saturday morning 8/1/15. Shrek is diabetic and blind due to cataracts. In February he developed pneumonia and has been battling a chronic cough. He seemed fine on Thursday. I took him for a car ride which he loves and he ate fine etc. Friday I came home from work and noticed he seemed to be breathing harder due to his coughing. I gave him one of his pills prior to bed but he woke up at 12:30 panting again. I took him out to the couch and we fell asleep while i was petting his head. I woke up out of nowhere at 5 am and I think he had just passed away. He was warm and limp. I am completely devastated. I cant stop crying. Every little think reminds me of him. I dont want to be awake, eat, sleep, I just dont know what to do with myself. I feel empty inside. Shrek has been with me through my worst times of my life and the best. He was truly my best friend. I have never lost a close family member so this is my first real loss and I feel so lost. I believe I will see him again in Heaven. I recently bought a book called Cold Noses at the pearly Gates by Gary Kurz. I just began reading it in hopes for some form of comfort. I hate leaving the house knowing when I come home he wont be here. One thing that does give me comfort is my other pug Fiona. She has been with us for about five years. She is a rescue and about 11. She doesn't seem to be depressed but im still worried for her. I am thankful to found this site. I hope to find some comfort and welcome any advice. Kind regards Rachal Outlook.com.zip
  21. I found this page when searching for comforting material online...I really enjoy browsing through similar experiences, pain we are going through, but mostly the positive and uplifting comments on this site . So I have decided to write too because I believe getting your emotions out to the world helps us all in the grieving process. I lost my partner S. 52 days ago from cardiac arrest. 40 year old healthy man "fell asleep" in the car on his way to work. If I knew that day before he left for work, that that was our last kiss and last hug I would never let him go. It's been a taugh journey since he left. I feel like part of me is gone. But it's ok as long as this part of me missing is with him. We were so close and honestly never fought. He was all and more that I ever dreamed of. I'm trying really hard to accept the fact that he is not physically present anymore but found a lot of comfort in learning about life after death and believing that he is still here just not the way I was used to. His absence is killing me!What kills me also is that all my beliefs, theories are gone. I don't know what to believe in anymore. In short... I left my country at early age, worked hard, adopted to the new culture, educated myself and always believed in being a good person. It wasn't easy but I did and was really proud of myself. Found myself in a abusive relationship, got out after two years. A month later my ex commited a suicide. Left everything on me to handle, his parents were not involved in his life. A lot of stres but I managed it. Two years went by and I met a love of my life S. I was so grateful that he showed up and daily told him how much I appreciate the smallest things he did for me. I thought to myself, all the hard work and drama I had before was worth it if I had to go through to meet the love of my life. I was always very positive and always looked for a bright side of life events. Always said that I became who I was ( after S. death I am not who I used to be) because of my life experiences and didn't regret anything in life even the most painful moments. S and I had a perfect relationship, I had absolutely nothing to complain about. We had the basics such as respect and honesty and we had it all. We were happy doing whatever just to be together. I truly just exist since his passing. I do believe we will be together again when it's my time to leave this place but am so looking for him to communicate with me. Maybe I am wanting it to much, but believe this will be a major breakthrough for me. I want to live for him because I know that would make him happy but it's so hard. I isolated myself from people. I just get irritaded with comments like "It will get better with time."... I don't need to hear that right now so I feel better just being alone. Books, articles online, spiritual movies have helped but this site is simply awesome. I am so grateful to all of you for sharing your pain, comforting words to eachother... I got to realize I am not alone and I THANK YOU FOR THAT!
  22. 2 years ago,for valentines day,me and my husband decided to add a dog to our family.Its been just the 2 of us for almost a decade!!We got a cute little pomeranion mix and we named him Charlie bear.About a year after getting him,we had our 1st baby.They became best friends and very protective over each other.We did everything together and even took him with us for vacations.We treated him like he was our son and even after having a baby nothing changed.We still loved him the same. 3 days ago I let charlie outside to play while my husband was out there.Somehow,charlie crossed the street when my husband wasnt looking and when my husband started yelling his name he ran across the street to get back home to us and a truck hit him.The sight of charlie lying there in the road stiff and no longer alive is something I hope to never experience again. He was just trying to get home.He was such a loyal happy and protective member of our family.He would do anything for the 3 of us,so for us to have let this happen to him breaks my heart. Not only were we negligent, but now our daughter is just heartbroken and lonely looking everywhere for her little buddy.Im so sad about it,we lost our little fur baby,a member of our family ...and it really opened my eyes to how life can change in literally the blink of an eye. My house is so quiet and lonely,his toys all over the house.But he no longer greets us at the door when we get home,or follows us around.Even the neighborhood dogs knew,they barked all night the night charlie passed away.I really loved him so much.Driving down the road you can still see his blood,it rips my heart apart to see that.I feel so guilty and can only hope he forgives us and knew how loved he was!
  23. I really need some help because I feel terrible and 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. Today, 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 hgim 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. He 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 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 life fro many more years and these problems caused his heart attack. 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, I have no friends, no job, not life. 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. Could you please help me? I am desperate. I am losing my mind. Thank you very much in advance for your answers.
  24. So, I was reading Mary's post about Madonna Badger who lost her three children and both parents in a house fire on Christmas Day, in 2011. There's a TED talk she did that you can watch here, and you can read the article that she wrote about it, here; I recommend you have a look at both as her story is, quite frankly, unimaginable. After looking at both, a question came to mind: "How profound do our "stories" have to be to make them deemed "share able"? I feel that today's media want the most unbelievable, harrowing stories because they will get the most "hits" or views etc. Many people choose to share their stories, but only the ones that are told by celebrities, or very high-up people, actually get attention. In my opinion, everyone's story is unique and if they want to share it, then brilliant. it's just with situations like people losing everything in a hurricane, an earthquake or a tornado, makes their losses a little bit more significant than say someone that just lost a mother to cancer. Under the TED talk link, Mary did say this "Do not allow her loss to minimize your own. Every loss is different and unique to each person. Just absorb what she learned about grief. I truly relate to the nerve being severed and without skins. It is just how huge losses feel." This is absolutely right, her story is no less painful or unimportant than mine or yours. I just think if I decided to post my story somewhere, it would get less attention than a story like Madonna Badgers. Would I want it to get attention? I would if it could help someone going through something similar, or made that person feel like they aren't alone, and that someone else actually understands how she is feeling or has felt. It would be interesting to hear what you all think of my question. Maybe it's an absurd question, but I'm just putting out there. Thanks for reading! Amy :-)
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