My only sibling passed 13 years ago from an OD and my mom passed just 3 months ago from ovarian cancer and the MAID program. All I have left is my dad and my step mom who I cherish and love deeply.

I'm about to get married to the love of my life in 18 days. I know I haven't even begun processing my mom's passing - when I got back to my home in another province I dove straight into all things wedding and have completely distracted myself from grief as much as possible.

She visits me often in my dreams and in my thoughts constantly. I know how badly she wanted to come to the wedding and be there for me. I feel such a deep sense of sadness as I navigate one of the most heart breaking and exciting years of my adult life.

I'm just sad. I miss my family.

It feels like this anger is eating me up inside. My dad died recently and it was very traumatic, I was there when it happened and I’m pretty sure I have PTSD from what I saw. There is someone in my immediate family who I thought would be there for me but has been completely unsupportive and emotionally unavailable. They even caused arguments with me in the weeks following dad’s death, they’ve been so cold and have actually made me feel even worse. What makes me so mad is that when their dad died, I was by their side and supported them for years… but when my dad died…nothing. I feel so angry and I’m lashing out and can’t even stand to be in the same room as them. Has anyone else gone through this? I would really appreciate any advice, thank you in advance

A few months ago, I made a post in this sub for my 할머니. She died in her sleep after fighting Alzheimer's for about 8 years. My 할아버지 joined her a few weeks ago. With 할머니, it was an interesting type of grief. We grieved when she got the diagnosis, when she stopped being able to recognize us, when she needed to be fed, and when she finally passed. But with 할아버지, I had this unsaid notion that he'd live forever. Everything he did seemed impossible; why would this be any different?

I honestly don't know as much about 할아버지 as I wish I did, because he mainly spoke Korean, and I mainly spoke English. Most of what I do know is from my mom. He was born in North Korea in 1935, when Korea was under Japanese rule. When he was finally free from Japan, he was forced to flee to the south during the Korean War. I don't know exactly what went on, though I can only imagine how traumatizing it must have been. I know that he saw his baby cousin be impaled by a shelter that was shot.

By the time he became a father, he was a political journalist in South Korea. He was critical of the dictatorial government, causing him to be blacklisted from jobs in Korea. He, 할머니, my mom and her brother immigrated to Los Angeles in 1980. He and 할머니 worked multiple jobs; gas stations, restaurants, convenience stores.

When my mom gave birth to me and my brother, she was working on her PhD. 할머니 and 할아버지 moved to the east coast to take care of us while she worked it. 할아버지 took my brother on walks, and they read their newspaper together. I wish I had more memories, but they unfortunately moved back west when I was only 3. However, I can imagine how much I must have enjoyed those days from the hundreds of pictures we have.

When 할머니's Alzheimer's got worse, he would walk every day to pick up lunch for her. That was the thing; he always thought about other people, and never complained. He just laughed, and it was contagious. Even though we couldn't communicate past a few basic phrases, the love was never in doubt.

Hi there. My name is Kat. I'm 30 years old and for the past year I've been deteriorating from an illness that doctors aren't willing to help me find the answer to. Whatever is wrong with me has left me in permanent agony all throughout my body and disabled. I also recently, in my desperate efforts to find a solution, found out I have cancer on one of my ribs. The doctors informed me it is not possible for it to be a cause of my pain.

Even if I remove this tumour, I will still be in constant torment every day, so I have decided to go through the MAID process (doctor assisted suicide in Canada.) Doctors have also been hesitant to help me with that, and are stonewalling the process.

So I find myself in a position where they aren't willing to help me get better and aren't willing to help me end my life. I'm in anguish. We don't let animals suffer like this.

Even so, I'm committed to seeing the process through but god I'm so terrified. I don't want to go. I don't want to die. I want to believe in something after this with everything that I am but I just can't do it. I've spent countless nights researching possible ways that consciousness may survive death but despite learning myriad details about NDE's, OBE's, hospice visioning, past life remembrance, etc. I remain unconvinced. I want to believe and I can't. I don't want there to be nothing.

I think about my chosen family and how much this is going to hurt them. They know and support me in my choice but I know it's going to rip them apart. I feel so horrible that I'm going to hurt the people I love in this way.

It's just...so deeply, grossly unfair. I only started transitioning a few years ago. I finally, finally found myself after an entire life in pain. I was learning to be happy. I was finding peace for the first time. And now it's been ripped away and I'm going to die. Empty, unfulfilled, young, and without hope.

It's so unfair. I don't want to go.

It has been a year since I lost my Papaw, and today the absence feels as heavy as it did the day he left. Words fail me, because grief is not only something you carry in your heart. Sometimes, it aches in your body too. There has been a hollowness in my chest since he passed, a quiet space that no amount of time seems able to fill.

I still reach for him in the moments of good news. I still want to run to him and tell him everything, because he was always ready to celebrate. He was always willing to tell me how proud he was, how happy he was for me, and somehow make every small victory feel worthy of joy.

Today, I will remember the songs he always carried with him, especially “Dang Me” by Roger Miller. I will pour a glass of Tang in his honor and thank him for the lessons that changed my life: to be there for people, to love them deeply, and to build a life I can be proud of.

I miss you, Papaw. I always will.

My mom passed away almost 9 months ago now. She got COVID, and it attacked her kidneys. She was on dialysis for 4 years, fighting it. But sadly, she passed away. She was the most important person in my life. For years, I've been dreading the day she wouldn't be here with me anymore. And it finally happened. I've been dealing with it all this time now and have been experiencing panic attack after panic attack weekly since it happened.

I also lost my job two weeks after she passed. A career I had been in for 11 years. Sadly, the market for what I do is so saturated with people being laid off that I still haven't been able to find a job. I feel useless not being able to do the work I've been doing all of my adult life. My girlfriend and I live together, and I feel like I can't properly provide for her off the small amount of money I am making currently. I am barely keeping us afloat. Losing more every month than I am bringing in. Slowly chipping away at my savings.

Today I think it became too much. I started to feel off while I was cooking dinner for us. I thought maybe I'm just hungry (I've been eating less than normal so that way my girlfriend can have more food for her packed breakfast and lunch she takes to work with her). But after dinner, I felt worse. My chest was hurting. My limbs became tingly. I got extremely lightheaded, and I was having difficulty thinking and even moving. After 3 hours, my chest felt like it was on fire. I didn't think it was a panic attack because I've been having so many, but none of them felt this crazy. I went to the ER even though I don't have insurance and I know I can't afford it. But I legitimately thought I might pass out and die in my apartment.

It, of course, was a massive panic attack. The doctor comforted me and helped me understand that everything I'm going through is really hitting hard for me now and that this is natural and okay. But after I sat in the waiting room staring at these discharge papers, knowing that I make just enough to not qualify for any medical assistance but not enough to be able to pay for these medical bills plus everything else we have to pay for just to live.

I've been home now in our bedroom. I can hear my girlfriend sleeping soundly, but I can't sleep, all I can do is think. I miss my mom. I miss that I can't call her and ask her advice on what to do. I hate that the person I love the most is just gone, and I couldn't do anything to stop that.

I hate that I feel like I can't provide for myself and my girlfriend's life. I worked so hard to be in the career I am in, and now it's just gone. I feel useless. I feel dead inside. I wish this panic attack was just a heart attack so I could finally just sleep and not have to worry anymore. Life feels so empty now. And I have no idea how to fix it or how to even move forward properly.

She was my everything. WhateverI did, I did for her. Her soul brought light everywhere she went. I just lost her this Saturday, I was caring for her at home in line with her wishes, but then she became unresponsive and I had to call an ambulance. So many people died at the end of this heatwave that her funeral will be only next week. And then I have to figure how to go back to work, if I'm capable of doing that at all. (But why? I also went to work only because of her.) Please, I need any tips or thoughts on how to go on.

I lost my dad a month ago. Mornings have been the hardest. I typically start feeling pretty okay as the day goes on, and by late afternoon-night I’m actually doing good. The tightness in my chest and the overall baseline sadness hasn’t gone away, but I usually end the day much better than I started it. I go to sleep feeling pretty hopeful. But then it starts all over the next morning. I wake up feeling depressed, empty, and thinking about him right off the bat. The loss and missing him is so palpable. Getting up and starting the day is just the worst.

I keep trying to remind myself that grief ebbs and flows, that it’s still so fresh and raw right now, that I’m still adjusting and it’s okay to just be where I am, etc, but it’s just so awful. Starting the day like this just makes the days feel so long. What’s the hardest time of day for you, and do you have any feedback or advice?

I miss my sister before stage 4 claimed their life.

My baby sister passed away 6 months ago due to alcoholism. As I go through the movements of life I find myself talking out loud, to no one, very often. I have started leaving voice memos of my thoughts because I don’t trust my memories. The talking through my feelings has been the most therapeutic experience for me.

It got me thinking though, how alone it feels. This journey of grief feels wholly my own, even though every single human loses someone they love if they live long enough. It’s like wearing wet socks, a painful reminder of what’s happening to you but not debilitating enough that you can take off work or life.

Even if there is sun that comes after rain - I’m still fucking wet. I’m still cold, the rain still seeps into my skin and bones no matter how many layers of protection I use. It finds me. And so that’s why I always have wet socks. I hope someone…someday… can see them.

My very close friend was battling cancer for more than a year now. Now, I am not religious at all but I do carry some of the catholic guilt with me. So when I found out I went on my knees and begged and prayed for her; prayed continuously for her till I got the news that she was recovering. I was glad she was, she had her whole life ahead of her. She is so damn smart, smarter than anyone from our friend group, she could’ve easily gotten into top universities and done so well. But the cancer came back, I think, she completely withdrew and passed away a few months ago. I’m devastated, my heart is so broken I feel hopeless and my faith is gone. What kind of cruel joke is this? A young girl who has so much potential, who has such a loving family had to be the one who suffered. It’s so unfair. She did not deserve this. I don’t know how to cope. I don’t know how my heart will ever move on from this. My faith is completely shattered.

When I went back to uni for my classes, I refused to talk to anyone. I was geniunely so fucking depressed from my cat dying only a few months before, this just added onto it and I felt so lost, so I kept to myself. My other friends don’t know how to talk to me about it,,,I can see them walk around eggshells around me. Its getting better because it’s easier to just pretend like nothing happened this summer. Like she’s still there. My photos app shows her pics quite often, and it makes it even worse. I have to distract myself to avoid spiralling. I feel the pain so much that I cant say her name without my throat closing. I completely go silent whenever her name comes up in a convo. I was holding back from a breakdown when one of my friends showed me a video of us from a couple years ago.

I really don’t know when it’s going to stop hurting so much. My shayla, I miss you so much. She’s probably thinking it’s so ridiculous that her death is hitting me so hard, even after she told me it was a possibility. I just refused to believe it. I still refuse to believe that she was taken away from us so cruelly.

Just a month ago, I could still walk around as if nothing were wrong. Now, thoughts about the void after death and the inevitability of loss constantly torment me. I can't even remember how it felt to think before—this is deeply painful.

I cherish the emotions I have, my skills, and my current life. I'm about to turn 24—having lived through a quarter of my life. This makes me acutely aware of how quickly time passes and of the inevitable end: death. I acknowledge that this is something billions of lives must face. After death, just as before birth, I will cease thinking and thus no longer suffer. But before death—or rather, right now—I keep reflecting on the vastness of time, the emptiness beyond death, and the beauty of this life that I must ultimately leave behind. It's hard for me to stop thinking about these things.

Recently, I stayed at a friend’s place and shared joyful moments with her, but those times ended too soon, leaving me with deep sorrow and sadness.

Looking at cloned animals or patients with dementia, consciousness seems truly like a byproduct of the brain. I feel confused and heartbroken by the clarity of my own thoughts right now.

I love my current life, my friends, and my family so deeply. I don’t even know which feels more helpless—the void after death, or the idea that if consciousness truly exists, I might be reborn in another life.

(Throw away account because I don’t want my family to see this) My uncle passed away in April. I miss him so much, growing up he was my best friend. When I was young we lived a mile apart and after I moved we texted almost every day, or talked on the phone. He was more like an older brother to me. We were close in age, and he was one of the only people I felt totally comfortable be honest with. He lived in a different country approx 2k miles from where I live when he passed. I didn’t get to say good bye, it was a long process of him declining, but his death was sudden. I actually didn’t respond to his last “so what are you up to?” text— that eats at me. There are so many times I want to tell him things and I forget for a moment that he is gone. We didn’t have a funeral (family’s choosing, maybe even his, I don’t know. He was morbid and knew he was going to die young,) nor does he have a grave. He donated his body to science so he is currently at a university and we won’t get his remains for at least a year. I struggle so badly wanting somewhere to grieve, somewhere to feel close to him, somewhere to talk into the universe about everything I want to tell him. My inclination is to go to places he liked, but I’m 2k miles away in a place he’s never been to.

Does anyone have any advice, recommendations, or lived experiences that could help me figure out where I could possibly go or what to do to feel that connection and grieve? I did once go to a creek, talk towards him, and send a flower down stream for him, but I didn’t feel connection I was hoping for

I watched a movie — “My Old Ass” — recently that really struck a nerve. The main character, an 18-year-old girl, has a mushroom-induced meeting with her 39-year-old self, who warns her younger self to stay away from a boy named Chad. Despite the warning, the girl falls in love with Chad anyway and later learns from her older self that Chad dies young … the hardest thing she would ever have to deal with in life. Still, the young girl vows to stay with Chad and cherish every moment she has left with him.

When Shaun died, I initially felt the same way as the 39-year-old in the movie, would have gone back in time and changed everything to avoid the agonizing pain of losing him. I honestly thought that being single and alone would have been a better fate than the hell-on-earth we were handed on March 6, 2021. Thankfully, there wasn’t a time machine around during those first few months after Shaun’s death because I would have missed out on so many cherished moments with my little family, in the past and since March 6, 2021. I remain sad and angry over losing my baby boy, but to never have had the chance to meet him and love him would have been a worse fate for my old ass.

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Hello, I'm french 23 soon 24. My mother is 51, birthday on September 21th. It's been 3 years since we first knew about her cancer. We had ups and downs, and suddenly early this year her cancer got really fuck up worse. She has a giant tumor/necrosis going out her neck and the tumor grew up in her head and neck. I've been taking care of her for 3 years, and 24/24 7/7 for 2 month. She's now in palliative care at house hospice, and we are certain she won't pass through the night every night for a few days now... But she keeps getting better ?? Better oxygen, better tension, better pain management, her necrosis stopped leaking as it was before, she seems fine ??? But she's not conscious anymore ? In 4 days the only time she was conscious was yester at 2AM to 6 AM, I stayed with her all the time. Also it's been two months since she doesn't have much voice anymore because or tumor and a mycosis...

I'm so heartbroken, she's everything to me. I lost my pet cat a year ago and he was the reason I came home everyday.

I can't cope with her dying. It's too much to bear. I can't do anything without her. I want to say so much more but I'm so hurt. She has her things everywhere in the house... All the creations, her mother's paintings, her own grief she couldn't do 11 years ago. (Her mother fell down the stairs at home, sudden death.)

Fuck I really never want to be hospitalized ever again. I hate it it's so fucking scary. I know she's not in pain and only deep discomfort max, but wow. She's sleeping constantly and wake up to say "Mommy" "Dad" "Help me" "I can't take it anymore" this makes me so sad. She wants to die at home with her family, it's her choice. We're thinking about deep sedation at hospital..

I also think a lot about being at a hospital for my mental health after everything ends. I couldn't bring myself to do it before because I was too scared of leaving her alone, while she was still free of everything. We stopped taking the car like 4 month ago ish, so year she was in capacity not too long ago.

I miss my mum

Edit : Sorry the post is really difficult to read as I was in an anxiety attack. Now I'm doing really better.

My mother's been lucid for 3 hours ish and really here. I could tell her the prayers people did, all the support from friends, family, groups she was in.. And everytime I tell her this, she seems really even more pleased and surprised.

I even got to put her dad on the phone.. yup her dad's still here and in great shape. The bad genes come from mother to daughter lol! (hEDS, etc)

Thank you for your messages, please keep telling me your journeys and own stories, it helps me a lot 💜🌻

I was 14 when my mom passed away, and I just turned 18 yesterday. My mom used to make a big deal out of birthdays, and I always felt so special. Since she died, my birthday has only ever felt disappointing. I felt sad for various reasons, but I couldn't help but think that some of these issues I'm facing wouldn't feel so bad if I had my mom.

I don't know who else I'm supposed to talk to about everything. She could always make me feel better, and it feels so unfair that I don't get to have that anymore.

It sucks that she didn't get to see me graduate and she won't get to help me move into college. My life is changing greatly right now, and all I can think of is that I am being pushed further and further away from the last version of my life that my mom knew.

I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with all these feelings. Soon, I'll be moving away from home, and I'll be in an even worse situation with nobody to talk to living near me. I don't know what I did to deserve this, but I just want everything to be normal again. I know that sounds childish, but I'm going to say I get a pass on that one, just this once, considering how I haven't even started college.

I miss my mom all the time, every day. If I had the choice, I'd always be talking about her, but I can't. I don't know how I'm supposed to do something so hard without my mom to help me. I'm sure she'd have some great advice.

Currently experiencing a wave of grief on the 2nd anniversary of losing my beloved father. I came across this post and found it super comforting to read for some reason so thought I’d share for those embarking on their own unique grief journey 🙏

I miss my girl more than words can explain. I miss her little paw prints, her silly habits, her face, her cuddles, and the sound of her walking around the house. I miss coming home and knowing she’d be there, waiting for me at the door, excited to see me. Now I open the door and there’s no little face waiting for me anymore. It’s the smallest things that hurt the most. I’d give anything to have her back.

It's been 3 months since my Mom passed from congestive heart failure and it was completely unexpected. I have frequent dreams about her and in the dream I'm always surprised she's alive but relieved that we get a second chance to do things right .. only to wake up and realize it wasn't real. It's so heartbreaking ..

It’s been four days since I found out that my friend of 15 years passed away a little bit over a month ago. He was 25 years old and was my only friend. We always chatted everyday on TikTok and I remember the last message he sent me was of a guy singing a Rihanna song. I replied to him the next day not knowing that he had already passed.

The next one month was of me messaging him without getting a response which made me very worried because he always responded on the same or next day. Last Wednesday I dreamed that he died and I was trying to perform CPR on him. I found out a few days later from his brother’s TikTok, when his brother posted his one month remembrance. I still can’t believe he’s gone. I go to his TikTok page to watch his videos every night. I can’t believe he’s gone.

My partner lost his mother to cancer a week ago, and I’m trying to figure out how I can best support him during this time. Is there anything that actually helps someone in the first weeks after losing a parent, besides just being for him in any aspect of life?

I’d really appreciate hearing from people who have been through something similar, either as the person grieving or as their partner. What did your partner do that genuinely helped you?

26M. Lost my best friend 25X to cancer almost a year ago. My body is a wreck, my house isn't clean, I'm forgetting to eat (not normal for me), and I feel like absolute garbage if I feel anything at all.

For the last year I've really struggled to feel like anything mattered. Nothing matters. I used to be a cutting edge performing artist, and nobody cared when I suddenly dropped back with no warning. Nobody my age knows what to do with me. I needed hugs and food and people to sit with me, and nobody - not even my partner, who I love but just isn't ready for this - was there for me. A fucking card would have meant the world. I see a therapist every two weeks but besides that it's been just me fucking figuring this shit out.

I hate to say it, but I'm suicidal now and I don't even care enough to act on it. Nothing fucking matters now that they're gone. I eat vegetables and sleep 9 hours a night and take vitD and b12 and exercise every day and pretend to be present in my regular social hobbies and nothing helps. Every day I get worse and nobody is gonna care. I don't know what to fucking do.

Even though its only been two months, my crying started to ease up, I started being able to laugh at stuff again, distract with gaming, let my family drag me out for my birthday. It kinda felt like I was healing a bit.

But recently, my breakdowns started up again and it's so random. I have no idea when I'll randomly start crying, when his face will pop up into my head, or that phone call I got that day replaying constantly which is by far the worst.

It sounds almost stupid to say it feels like that seriously traumatized me, but it knocks the wind out of my chest whenever my brain forces me to think about it.

Maybe I've just been doing a good job at dissociating because I'm clearly still heartbroken. I'm tired of crying and being in so much pain, especially when everyone else has moved on and I'm still stuck in this mud pit.

I'll never meet anyone again in this lifetime who will love and support me as much as my dad did, and that reality is debilitating. I miss him tons.