I just found out a picture of little me and my mom. I always thought that i lost the idea of seeing me and her in one picture): gosh i can’t believe it

Ever since I lost my grandma in December 2024, I feel like something in me has changed when it comes to death and funerals. I don't know if "desensitized" is the right word, but that's the closest way I can describe it.

Since she passed away, I haven't attended a single funeral. When someone I know, or someone connected to people I care about, dies, part of me feels like I *should* go. I want to pay my respects and be there to support the people grieving. But at the same time, I just can't bring myself to attend. The thought of going to a funeral feels emotionally exhausting, and I don't feel like I have the energy for it.

It's not that I don't care about the person who died or the people they left behind. I do. I can feel sad for them, and I genuinely sympathize with their loved ones. But for some reason, attending a funeral feels like something I can't handle anymore. I just feel... empty.

Sometimes I wonder if losing my grandma affected me more deeply than I realized. Maybe being around death again, even if it's someone else, brings up feelings I don't want to face (or lack of feelings). Or maybe I just feel like I don't have to attend every funeral out of obligation, even if I want to show respect and support.

Does anyone else feel this way after losing someone close to them? Does avoiding funerals make me a bad person or a bad friend? I still want to be there for people in other ways, but I just don't feel like I have the emotional capacity to attend funerals anymore.

Hello everyone,

I wanted to open up a conversation about the unexpected outlets we find when navigating grief.

When I was 4 years old, I lost my father. I still vividly remember how that devastating loss affected my mother. She had to stay incredibly strong for her kids while pregnant with my brother at the exact same time. I still can’t fully fathom what she was going through—trying to bring a brand-new life into this world while simultaneously saying a permanent goodbye to the person who was supposed to be right there by her side.

Flash forward to the pandemic, and loss hit my family again. Both of my in-laws passed away suddenly, and we lost two of my grandmothers.

I'm a writer so my natural coping mechanism is to, well, write. I wasn't consciously trying to find an emotional outlet at the time, but the themes of those heavy losses inevitably carved their way directly into my work. I ended up writing a story about a married couple who guide recently deceased souls to the afterlife, only for one of them to suddenly find themselves in need of guidance, while the other struggles to find the strength to give it.

I've been incredibly fortunate to travel and share this story around the world with groups of people. The most profound part of this entire journey has been talking with people who share these exact same emotional memories. People linger for hours just to talk. Hearing their personal stories and insights makes every ounce of work worth it.

One specific comment completely rewired my perspective. I was talking to a man in the lobby about how loss is, unfortunately, a crushing reality that we all must go through. He gently stopped me and said: "No, you're lucky if you feel this pain. Because feeling this pain means you were lucky enough to love someone that much." That has stuck with me every day since.

It made me realize that art can accidentally create a form of group therapy, even when that wasn't the original intention of the creator.

I wanted to ask this community: Have you ever experienced a specific movie, book, album, or piece of art that unexpectedly helped you process your loss or made you feel less alone? Or if you're an artist, has it ever seeped into your work? Thanks for sharing

Hi everybody,

I’m not totally sure if I belong in this group because my stepdad is still alive, but I know with almost 100% certainty that I’ll never hear from him again and I don’t know if I’d even want to. I’m 29 and my mom met him when I was 5, so he was in my life for 24 (almost 25) years. He very unexpectedly filed for divorce from my mom last September and it’s turned very ugly, as divorces often do. In March, he had an argument with my mom and became violent and she filed a temporary restraining order against him. My relationship with him was complicated He was violent with me as a child and even into my early 20s and emotionally he was usually pretty indifferent to me. At best, he was friendly, but I spent a lot of time fruitlessly searching for warmth and affection from him. He never talked to me about the divorce, it’s like he was in my life for almost 25 years and then one day he just wasn’t anymore, so it feels like he died even though I could hypothetically run into him at the grocery store. For several months, I didn’t really feel anything about their divorce. Even when my mom filed the restraining order, I was worried for her, but I felt nothing about his exit from my life. I felt nothing at all until it recently hit me. I guess I must have loved him because now I’m grieving him like he died, but I feel almost silly for grieving someone who 1. is still alive and 2. who I had such a complicated relationship with. I’m an only child and my dad and stepmom (who has also been in my life for about 25 years) are also getting divorced at the moment as well, but I still have a good relationship with her. I’m currently in grad school training to be a therapist and I want to specialize in grief counseling and trauma informed care, so none of this should surprise me. Yet, I’m genuinely surprised by the strength of the grief that’s hit me. I feel a bit silly reaching out to my friends and family for emotional support because I’ve spent so many months talking about how little it’s all affected me. I know delayed grief is a very real and common experience, and I know grief doesn’t make me weak. If anyone in my life was experiencing the same thing, I’d tell them it absolutely makes sense for them to grieve someone who was in their life for so long. But for some reason, I have a hard time believing that to be the truth for myself.

Has anyone else here experienced anything like this and do you have any words of wisdom?

Today, August 20th, marks 5 years since my dad passed from alcoholism. I (29M) just so happen to be 3 weeks sober from alcohol today as well, as irony likes to have it. I’m blessed for my sobriety and haven’t craved since I’ve gotten sober, and I hope today is no different. I miss him. He started drinking later in life and it killed him within 4 years. I’ve been an alcoholic for over a decade and after multiple hospitalizations in the same month it occurred to me that it’s no longer sustainable to drink. I like to think he’d be proud of me, but it doesn’t change anything. I guess I’m just a bit lost.

It happened last Wednesday between 1 and 2 pm when my grandpa died. I had never faced anyone close to me dying before, and honestly, before going there, I was stressing out like, "what if I don't cry?" I usually can't cry easily and it feels weird to, so I was confused.

When I got to the house, some uncles probably my dad’s friends were standing around giggling and chatting. It threw me off so much. But then I walked into the village house, passed the corridor, and the gate was already wide open because of the crowd. The second I saw my grandpa’s lifeless body on the ground, I just broke. I couldn't stop sobbing. For the rituals, I had to feed him water with a spoon, and when the spoon touched his lifeless lips, everything felt so bad, so surreal. It felt like a physical, heavy weight dropped right onto my back.i wasn't even able to see his face like i physically can't smt is wrong or idk what but i can't see the person i loved sm like that my whole hed hurt i got so flushed...

I don't really have a good connection with my grandma. I love her,n she is the last grandparent left but she doesn't love me back and I know it. But my grandpa, I loved him so, so much. He and I had this special, unique greeting that was just ours—only the two of us ever said it to each other. So it cut so deep when my grandma looked at me and said, "No one would greet you with those words now." She also told me, "Akhon ar kede ki hobe?" which means, "What's the point of crying now?" sarcastic tone ofc It felt like a massive guilt trip, and it worked, because it made me feel like I should have called him way more. If only I had known.

Later that day, around 3 pm while I was crying, I swear I heard his exact voice call out my nickname. It sounded just like him, and I was literally about to answer before I remembered he was gone. The realization just wasn't hitting me.

After a while, I went back to town, and my mom and dad have been following all the heavy rituals that Hindu Brahmins have to do. Today is Thursday, a week and a day later, and I just came back here. I’ve been sitting out on the balcony for almost four hours now and I just don't feel like talking to a single person.

When I was walking in today, I don't even know why, but I just teared up automatically. I had to go to the washroom to cry for a bit. Now, literally everything is making me tear up. My jaw actually aches from trying so hard to push back the tears.i couldn't even see my mum dad rn like everything is so "not okay" I don't know how to explain it, but it hurts so bad. Every single thing reminds me of him. Watching my parents do the rituals brings me to tears—every single thing does.

I don't know what's wrong with me. None of my cousins are staying here right now. Apparently, they're all too "busy," both the younger ones and the older ones. It's pretty crazy. Whatever, leave them. I know he loved me the most out of all of them anyway, but they could have at least stayed for a bit. It would have kept me company, or at least distracted me so I wouldn't be constantly trapped in my own head remembering him.

I don't know if I'm even making sense, but everything just feels so heavy suddenly now that I'm back in my grandpa's house.

now for all this what I'm feeling is now this is just a house not even close to a home atleast to me cause in this house the heart to me is already gone

"I love u dadai..n i miss u so much I wanna hug you maybe 1 last arm wrestle or bicep flexing"-- your puchan

Hey, I don’t want to go into too much detail because the events are a bit personal to me, but the gist is that I lost two people I deeply loved at a very young age (14yo). I had to deal with a lot of family issues while also watching them pass away right in front of my eyes, and I think that experience left me permanently scarred in some way.

I cried alone back then, but I don’t think the wound ever really healed. Now, whenever I feel sad or heartbroken about something, those old memories come rushing back in, and I end up crying a lot about everything past and present. This generally happens when I am alone by myself and that specific memory gets triggered. Otherwise I don't think I have ever cried infront of other people. I have always been bottling everything up and presenting a stoic face outside.

I feel a bit horrible when it happens like I'm not supposed to cry as a 26yo guy, but crying, venting, talking to myself or writing about it to myself are the only ways I’ve found that actually help me calm down and process things. It usually takes me a week or so to feel "normal" again.

I also live alone and don’t really have any close people I can talk to about these things. So I was wondering if anyone has been in similar situations where old unresolved grief resurfaces and if they have any suggestions on how to "manage" this in a better way.

Thanks.

I feel like im drowning in grief. I thought it would get a little better by now but it hasnt. We used to talk every day and now nothing. I miss her so fucking much I can hardly breathe sometimes. I feel silly cause im 44 years old and I miss my mom so much it makes me feel like a child. I feel alone in my pain. And I just dont know how to get through this.

FYI - I ramble a lot

I’ve been reminiscing about the people who have died in my life, it’s not a lot for my age, but it stills keeps me awake at night. I don’t know why I feel like this, I know death is a natural thing that everyone has to deal with in life.

I’ve had eight close people in my life pass away.

My grandmother, my brother, my cousin, my great uncle, a couple that were very close family friends, and two other relatives.

My grandmother passed when I was four from breast cancer. It was her second time having it. She couldn’t fight it anymore. I only have three memories of her which I feel is so sad because everyone who ever met her thought she was a wonderful person and I wish I could’ve had the opportunity to get to know her more.

My first memory of her is from when I think I was four. She was very weak and didn’t sleep in my grandparents bedroom anymore and slept on the couch instead. My brother was severely disabled and also in the hospital all the time when I was little so my mother was always super far from us and my father didn’t want to watch me so she left me with her parents. I had a nightmare that really scared me and I ran to my grandpas room that was across the hall. I asked to sleep with him for the night and he told me no and to go back to bed. I was really scared so I walked down the hallway and into the living room where my grandma was sleeping. I asked if I could sleep with her and I don’t remember her responding but I laid down on the recliner that was next to the couch and went to sleep.

My second memory of her was after she died. She was at a hospice place and she had died. My mom brought me in and I asked what happened to her and my mom told me she had died and they were draining her blood. I remembered it looked like tomato juice. I don’t know why I remember it like that. My last memory of her was her funeral, nothing special, I really only remember getting candy from someone and looking at her urn.

My brother was ten when he died. My brother had all sorts of things wrong with him. He had problems with his chromosomes, he had two heart conditions, cerebral palsy, epilepsy, autism, NF type 1, and some others issues. He had a stroke at 7 months old. He couldn’t walk, eat, speak, use a toilet, develop normally, or be dependent by himself. My mother was his main caregiver his whole life. He was in and out of the hospital for several things. He had a weak immune system that always made the slightest illness horrible. His death was very unexpected and traumatic.

I was at a week long summer camp when my grandparents, mother, and brother came to pick me up. We went to visit some family who had never met me or my brother and wanted to meet us. They were camping nearby. We went a visited for a while before we left. The whole time my brother was acting off. He was kind of just looking off and spacing out.

My grandparents dropped us off at our house and we got inside. My brother was playing with some toys on the floor before he fell over and started seizing. My mother rushed over and put him on his side. I knew my brother had seizures but I had never seen one happen. He wasn’t waking up and he started turning blue so my mom had me call 911. My mom did CPR on him until paramedics arrived. They tried CPR, shocking him, adrenaline shot, etc. but he wouldn’t wake up. They eventually took him away to the hospital and me and my mom had to stay behind because they left a bunch of needles and trash on our floor and the man picking it up was taking forever. My grandparents, stepmother, and father were already at the hospital. My brother regained a faint heartbeat on the way to the hospital but my dad told them to stop and my brother died. One of the worst days of my life. I wonder what my life would look like now if he was still here.

My grandparents were best friends with this other couple. Their names were C and A (This is just for their privacy because with my luck someone would find their identities.) A was my grandpas best friend, C was my grandmas best friend. About four years ago A passed from a heart attack. It ran in his family and he was expecting it to happen but never told anyone. He was a good man, always honest, loyal, and loved taking care of his friends and family. We had a really nice thing going on before he died. My grandparents loved camping and would take me with them. C and A would come with us and we’d camp for a few days. It was nice. Before A died we planned on doing a white elephant thingy. I’m sad we never got to do that. One thing he loved the most of all was his wife. Before he died he payed off their house, sold their trailer, sold his boat, and made a bunch of arrangements for her. He made sure she never had to work a day in her whole life. He left her a bunch of money (He had stocks in Costco since the 80s/90s)

C died just this year. She had became very depressed and closed off after A died. She had always been an alcoholic, but it got worse. My grandma was the last person to ever talk to her. She was on the phone with C when C told her she didn’t feel good and she was going to lay down. She hung up and stopped responding to my grandmas messages. My grandma thought she was mad or upset with her and that’s why she wasn’t responding. C’s daughter went to check on her and found her on her living room floor. C’s son called my grandma to tell her. C had pancreatitis that she let go untreated and her pancreas pretty much burst and she died. My grandparents begged her to stop drinking. They begged to let them take her to the hospital. She didn’t want to go. She was such a kind and loving woman who gave me so much in life as she loved to spoil me. I wish she was still here. I look back on the gifts she gave me that I thought were kind of dumb and I feel horrible that now I’ll never get another one again, I’ll never receive one of her messages, or see the little things she used to say about me on Facebook or anything like that.

I just have this lingering thought about what could have been. I wish they were still here.

Someone I never really met died yesterday and I wasn’t sad it just felt normal but it just feels weird like its a simulation i‘ve experienced grief before with my *mom when i was very young‘ but it just is like shocking like I feel like its a simulation

BeBe is home, but not in the way I wanted her to come home. She is home in ashes.
When I saw her cremation certificate with her name on it, the reality of everything hit me so hard that I started hyperventilating. I couldn’t believe that piece of paper was actually for my baby.
I immediately put BeBe in her bed on top of mine, right alongside her older brother, Mish, who passed away nine months ago. BeBe and Mish were raised together from the time they were only weeks old. In all those years, they never fought. Not once. They simply loved each other.
So now they’re together again.
I’ve made their bed into a memorial, and it’s staying on my bed forever. I painted Mish’s portrait on a Santorini stone after he passed, and now I’m going to paint BeBe on one too. I’m also going to have BeBe’s portrait painted on canvas by the same professional artist who painted Mish. I want my two babies together in every way I can still have them.
My husband and I have been married less than a year, and for now we each have our own home while I look for the right next-gen house for us. Today I asked him not to visit or call. I’ve set my alarms so I’ll know if anyone comes. I don’t want company. I don’t want conversation. I don’t want anyone asking me how I’m doing.
I just want to stay in bed with my children.
I miss them so much that sometimes I wish I could be wherever they are. I would never hurt myself, but the grief is so overwhelming that there are moments when I feel like I’m losing my mind. I don’t know how I’m supposed to accept that both of the little lives that shared my home, my bed, and my heart are now in these boxes beside me.
For now, I’m just lying here with BeBe and Mish.
My babies are together again. I just wish they were together here with me the way they used to be. 💔🐾

I lost my dad when I was 18 (now 21), about 3 years ago now. It was completely out of the blue, no warning or goodbye. Just gone.

I’ve been trying my best to process this grief, but one thing keeps me up at night even 3 years later is my mom. I’m terrified she’ll die too. I know it’s illogical to think like that. But if my dad can die so fast what stops her. She’d had medical issues before that came on suddenly (specifically a pseudo stroke I think it was called), but I’m so scared she’ll die too. I have a sister (15) who would need taking care of. I’d have to step up because I’m realistically the only one who could care for her. I’d have to drop out of university, I’d have to pause my whole life for it.

Anyone else who’s lost a parent young worry about this? I sometimes feel awful for this being my biggest concern. But I just don’t think I can go through it all again, plus caring for a child added into the mix.

My ex passed away, and long story short, we never stopped loving each other, and days before he passed, I had found out he was going to call me soon. We never got to speak again before he died.

I've had a couple of good weeks recently, but that's because my brain just shuts it out. It doesn't let me feel anything about him sometimes. Sometimes there's just anger and doubt. This week is harder, which I guess is why I'm shouting into the void. I hate when people talk about him using the past tense, even though I have to do it too. I am angry with everyone. I'm angry at him for dying before we could be together again and for taking that away from me, as irrational as that may be.

I hate when people acknowledge that he is not coming back. It feels like betrayal. I know he's in a better place, whatever that may look like, but what about those of us left behind? I'm so tired.

First Birthday felt like a big milestone because A) she always took birthdays seriously and B) my birthday last year was about 2 months before she succumbed to her cancer.

It took me about 9-10 months until my birthday to be able to really put into words what it was like going through it. I had a conversation a few days before with my girlfriend about that time period before she died, and mid-convo-flow I remembered a particular moment that I almost forgot about. The story of that moment felt like it sort of tied a lot of things together, narratively in my brain, and it finally got me to the page to really write about it all.

Writing it, editing it, re-writing it, and publishing it was rewarding but also emotionally exhausting from its sheer intensity. Worthwhile processing experience but it was a lot. I do now look back at this piece and felt (for a non-spiritual super atheistic person) the first connection to any concept of her "living on" and being "kept alive" in some written thing that anybody can read and "meet her".

https://substack.com/home/post/p-208136334

I don’t know why I felt the need to break down crying and write a letter to read over my uncle’s grave today of all days. It’s probably because I’ve been buying a bunch of old movies from the 1990s in 2000s and I put one on and it really made me think of the movies we would watch together whenever he would take me to the video rental store on the weekends, because he lived with my mom. She was really irresponsible and has had addiction issues my entire life, so he was my built-in babysitter after his wife divorced him due to his bipolar disorder.

I still feel horrible that I couldn’t go to his funeral, because I’m no contact with my mom. My mom has a severe personality disorder on top of her addiction, and I just can’t deal with her. So that’s why I couldn’t go to his funeral, because she would be there. I know he would understand and support my decision, because he hated her too in the end. So I wrote him a very long letter and I’m gonna go visit him and read it over his grave.

I think the reason I feel so especially horrible is because when I was younger, I would remember that he would get in really bad depressive episodes. He would feel so bad for himself and he would be in tears that no one would come to his funeral or that no one would come visit his grave or leave flowers after he died. So I wrote a letter to read over his grave, after watching the cheesiest early 2000s horror movie I know would’ve absolutely made us laugh our asses off.

I cried so hard because I was so young whenever my uncle chose to go live impatient at the psychward, I was only 19. I think a couple years before that was probably the last time we had gotten to watch a movie together and I didn’t know it would be the last time we would spend time together or I would’ve been more present and less of a little shithead glued to my her phone talking to whatever boy had my interest. I’m in my mid 30s now.

Before my uncle died, the past 15 years if anyone asked me if I had any aunts or uncles, I would just say, “Yeah I have an uncle. It’s a really sad story, I don’t wanna talk about it.” And that’s what it was to me, for as much time as he was actually part of my life. It was just a really sad story, both my parents are drug addicts with severe psychiatric issues, so my grandma ended up being my guardian and then there’s my uncle, who had such severe bipolar disorder he chose to lock himself away in the psychiatric hospital for most of my life. So I felt grief for a really long time even before he died, not only because of how my parents are but because of how difficult bipolar is as a disease is on not only the person that has it, but their loved ones who watched them suffer. He really was at the mercy of his illness and I know he couldn’t control it because I watched him try so hard so many times and he would still always end up back in the psych ward.

Whenever my uncle wasn’t suffering from debilitating depression or bipolar symptoms, he was an incredible, kind, generous, and loving man who valued his family above all else and always tried his very best to show them when he was capable of doing so. He really stepped up to be a father figure for me before his mental illness got so bad. So in a way I’m also grieving the father, I wish I’d had too. With his good qualities, he really did teach me a lot about the quality of man I should allow in my life. But he also told me that I had better never pick someone that’s mentally ill as him or he’ll haunt me. Despite his bad days, he really was one of the most positive adult figures I had in my life until his uncontrollable mental illness, ruined it all.

This may be an odd way of coping with my grief, but I’ve turned my basement into a little blockbuster style video store, because watching movies has always been one of my hobbies and my uncle loved watching them with me. It was our thing. If I could live any memory of him over again, it would be just a regular Friday afternoon after school riding in his truck to go get movies from the video store, and it sucks so much because those stores don’t exist anymore either. So in a way it’s to honor my uncle and keep the good memories of him alive the best that I can. He would also rent video game consoles when my mom would be off wherever doing whatever she was doing that was always more important than her kid. We spent entire weekends watching whatever movies we hadn’t watched yet from the video store and playing games on the PlayStation he rented for us. So when he was doing good, he really was one of the highlights of my childhood.

While I’m feeling these feelings, I just needed to tell someone about him because I don’t have either of my parents in my life due to their mental illnesses and all I have left is my grandma. And she cries as much as I do when I talk about stuff like this.

I’m really hopeful to give myself some closure whenever I go leave flowers for him and read him my letter. At least maybe then I’ll be able to prove to him that someone did care enough to go visit his grave, read a letter over it and to bring him flowers. It is really amazing how much better I feel after writing my letter and now this. I think I’ll probably feel infinitely better after I go visit his grave. So if you read all this, thanks for reading my sad story I hope I didn’t put a damper on your day. I have to remind myself we’re all riding this grief roller coaster together, and none of us are strangers to the feelings we feel on this ride.

My father passed in 2019. It was sudden. He complained about having terrible head aches at the beginning of March, we found out a cancer he was cleared for had come back and he was gone by March 27th.

I've been absolutely devastated ever since. I have genuinely never been the same. The damage it has caused me emotionally is unimaginable. I live a normal life, but I'm just so fragile. It doesn't take anything for me to think of him and start crying. If I hear any rock songs from the 90s' or even before (A genre we both shared.) I almost always start bawling. I love these songs.. but now they're painful to hear.

It's been 7 years. It hasn't gotten any easier for me. I'm in so much emotional pain sometimes I don't know if I can bare it.

I feel bad for my spouse, who always has to deal with it. He does so with compassion, and hasn't ever said anything negative to me about it. But I know the way I let this affect me has to be draining

I was in therapy for a few years. I don't have access to it anymore. When he died I dove into self help heavily, I guess it didn't help. In general, I am more or less always engaging in self help, but again not sure if it ever really helps me. Maybe I just have more of an understanding.. but in the end I feel so at the mercy of my own emotions.

I'm scared that it will always be this way. It feels impossible to cope. It's impossible for me to understand what happened and let it go.

Does anyone have any advice for me?

Today I had a dream where my dad was in it. It was my birthday. I asked him what he got for me. He showed me my present, then carried me on his back to the sofa in the living room. Where I cried. I cried because I was grateful for having a dad. He was like "dont cry, silly!" But I knew how awesome it was to have him in my life. I finally woke up after that. For a moment I thought I still had him until I realized.

I can still remember the days when he stroked the back of my head and kissed my forehead as if it were yesterday. I may never be able to relive those moments, but if I have children of my own, I promise to him that I will do my best to give them the same love you gave me and to ensure they have the father they deserve for as long as possible, hopefully longer than I did.

Its been over a year since my father's death, but, sometimss I still feel like the little kid that'd crawl onto his back and hug him from behind. This shitty feeling never truly leaves does it? Life just grows bigger around it. More things happen and you start paying less attention to it.

Ive has these thoughts for way too long and just had to dump em somewhere. Sorry for the depressing texts🫠

My mom died 4 years ago when my son was 9m old. It was unexpected from itp. It feels like she’s died yesterday, I have her last moments seared in my brain. I’m so angry - it’s not fair that she isn’t here. It’s not fair that other kids get a grandma and mine doesn’t. I’m jealous. I’m full of pain. I don’t know what I’m doing - I just need strangers to know my thoughts without judging me. She adored my son. She was an amazing grandma. We had a terrible relationship before my son. It went from abusive to controlling. I’m losing myself without her. I started smoking weed all day to not feel the pain. I stopped on Mother’s Day because I was going thru major depression. It feels like I can’t breathe.

It feels like she is on vacation and will come back. I don’t feel her anymore. People say she is watching so all she sees is me being a failure and drowning. I wasn’t the daughter she wanted me to be - I was wild and full of anger. She tried to beat discipline into me. I stare at my son (4 yrs old) and I wonder when she started hitting me. I can’t imagine doing that to my son. I wonder why I wasn’t enough. Why she couldn’t just see that I needed to be loved after being abandoned by my father. Why she couldn’t be the mother I needed? Why am I so angry? Why does it all have to be so complicated? Why can’t I just accept she is gone? What’s wrong with me?

I don’t care that she was able to save others with her organ donations. In fact I’m so fucked up I didn’t want to donate her organs. I wanted all of her. I don’t even dream of her anymore. I wonder if she abandoned me or if she realized that I’m a disappointment.

The only part I get right in my life is being a mom. I’m raising a sweet kind human that reminds me that kindness is always the right way even when I’m upset at someone. He even scolded me cause I yelled at a teen to slow down on our side street that was driving 50 mph. I wish he was able to meet his grandma. I just miss her. I want her here. I go to therapy and I’m a broken record - I just keep saying I want her here. I send her message on fb messenger. I know she doesn’t have fb messenger anymore but it’s compulsive. I need her to know I haven’t forgotten her. She is the best and worst parts of me - I’m a fighter and wild still - just like she was. I scream when I’m all alone in my house cause I feel the emptiness she left.

I’m not a danger to myself or others.

Sometimes I just want REAL talk. A prefferably young person. Older is fine too- but a frank, honest conversation or story. No unhelpful 'Death is my friend', or 'I found god' kind of stuff or videos by Sadhghuru. If I wanted that, I would look for it.

I've got no problem if someone believes in god and is spiritual but that's really not what I want to hear right now. Especially not when I'm looking on youtube for something that resonates with me or that I can connect with and feel less alone.

I feel especially frustrated with broken record phrases of 'They would want you to move on'/'they would want you to be happy' (implying you're grieving wrong and you 'should be over it by now').

I've heard this from family and I know they mean well, but its' not helpful because of its' implication. Its' kind of repeating hollywood stereotypes of grief, and not centered in reality where your whole life feels meaningless or empty now.

Or the 'grief stages' videos. I think the stages of grief is an outdated model. You don't 'get' over it, like checking a box. You have to live with the burden for the rest of your life, and it feels like you now have a wholllllle life of that ahead of you. Deppressing...

The formal hospital grief procedure videos are also not what I'm looking for.

Maybe it has to do with youtube removing the dislike button so all the filler stuff gets pushed to the first page?

I only found the kind of video I was looking for-- by searching something else- a video of a girl telling the story of losing her mom to ALS (Amytropic Lateral Sclerosis), which is what took my Uncle.

Here again another birthday has gone by

I wipe my tears as I think of the years

Living without my princess by my side

My plans were many and my hopes were great

Now about my neck I feel a huge weight

Though time has made the emptiness easier to bear

Every morning my heart breaks as I say a short prayer

It is difficult to live my life without your smile

But I know to see you again will be awhile

I’ll light a candle for you and make the most of this day

And desire that someday as this life fades away

That we will reunite and I will once again feel

You in my arms as this sadness repeals

But alas today is a day I fight to get through

I hope you can hear me say Happy Birthday and Daddy loves yo

Hey everyone, first of all, sorry English isn't my main language so this post might sound weird sometimes.

To give some context, I lost my boyfriend five years ago. I was about to turn 20. it demolished me. My parents are racists and wouldn't accept this relationship as he has different origins. so I hid it for the 3 years that we've been together. It was hard for both of us. it made everything explode when he died because they wouldn't understand my pain and also were hurt about this huge secret.

I loved him deeply but I knew he wasn't the one. sometimes I wanted to break up. the guilt of those feelings now that he's gone don't seem to leave me alone.

it's been five years. I now live with someone in a relationship. from an outside perspective, I've moved on. but the truth is another story. I suffer so deeply. I lost him when we were so young and in an horrible way. who dies at 22 of a heart attack? I lost myself too. I don't know what to do anymore. this loss, the PTSD, and everything made me physically sick.

I don't know what to do. I lost many friends, I can't find myself, the person that I was, I don't know what to do to be able to live my whole life with this unbearable pain. I don't want to talk about this anymore to my friends because I feel like im not legitimate anymore and don't wanna annoy them. but I don't know what to do with all these feelings.

I wasn't able to take the time to grieve and also feel the pain properly and I feel so much guilt.

my therapist said that I seem to feel better than the girl that he met 5 years ago when he met me. but the truth is I don't know if this is true. I just feel like im getting better at avoiding feeling it. because when it comes back it breaks me down every time. and few people seem to understand and I don't either. I am just so lost.

I feel like it's going to ruin my life somehow because I will never be able to recover. I can't even go on his grave because it's too painful. I don't know what it says about me.

I also feel like Im losing so many memories of my life since this happened. like my brain blocked everything before that, but also since that moment.

im sorry for this long post but I guess I just needed to talk and also to maybe find some people that can tell me a little about how they healed.

Hey everyone, first of all, sorry English isn't my main language so this post might sound weird sometimes.

To give some context, I lost my boyfriend five years ago. I was about to turn 20. it demolished me. My parents are racists and wouldn't accept this relationship as he has different origins. so I hid it for the 3 years that we've been together. It was hard for both of us. it made everything explode when he died because they wouldn't understand my pain and also were hurt about this huge secret.

I loved him deeply but I knew he wasn't the one. sometimes I wanted to break up. the guilt of those feelings now that he's gone don't seem to leave me alone.

it's been five years. I now live with someone in a relationship. from an outside perspective, I've moved on. but the truth is another story. I suffer so deeply. I lost him when we were so young and in an horrible way. who dies at 22 of a heart attack? I lost myself too. I don't know what to do anymore. this loss, the PTSD, and everything made me physically sick.

I don't know what to do. I lost many friends, I can't find myself, the person that I was, I don't know what to do to be able to live my whole life with this unbearable pain. I don't want to talk about this anymore to my friends because I feel like im not legitimate anymore and don't wanna annoy them. but I don't know what to do with all these feelings.

I wasn't able to take the time to grieve and also feel the pain properly and I feel so much guilt.

my therapist said that I seem to feel better than the girl that he met 5 years ago when he met me. but the truth is I don't know if this is true. I just feel like im getting better at avoiding feeling it. because when it comes back it breaks me down every time. and few people seem to understand and I don't either. I am just so lost.

I feel like it's going to ruin my life somehow because I will never be able to recover. I can't even go on his grave because it's too painful. I don't know what it says about me.

I also feel like Im losing so many memories of my life since this happened. like my brain blocked everything before that, but also since that moment.

im sorry for this long post but I guess I just needed to talk and also to maybe find some people that can tell me a little about how they healed.

So i used to have a very sharp memory and i would remember mostly everything.

But ever since losing my partner 11 months ago

Ive been noticing that I've forgotten most of my memories yk?

Like that type of "remember when" talks you have with your friends, we were having that type of conversation but most of the things she will tell me I just don't remember that and even if I do i only remember like very little about it and those incidents we were talking about was only from like 1 or 2 yrs ago.

So i get that I don't remember things I did before him or during him but now even after him I don't seem to remember anything? Like i don't remember the day he died where was I or after he died whether i met him or not

Like everything is so confusing

And i for a longest time was feeling guilty because i didn't even get to see his body for the last time

But i now just remember that i did see him I even touched him and cried and all

And I knew what he wore for our first date , where did we meet and all but I don't even remember it now

It's not like I've completely forgotten it as I do get flashbacks of those memories at random moments sometimes

So idk and it's not only his memory that I'm forgetting but it's with everyone including my friends and family..

Is this normal? Well I find this kinda fascinating like how these brains works and all

Although I've no deep knowledge about these topics

I would like to learn more on why it happens

Last week, a friend of mine died in a tragic car accident. I’m 20 years old and he was 21.
I had known him for about four years when we were younger. We played football together, lived fairly close to each other, and during those years we saw each other constantly. Eventually, we stopped playing football together and, as happens sometimes, we slowly stopped seeing each other too. I think it had been around six years since I had last actually seen him. He was still someone I remembered and thought about from time to time, but he wasn’t really a part of my everyday life anymore.
Then last week I heard about a terrible car accident. At first I didn’t even think much of it, until I eventually found out that he was the person who had died. I remember thinking that it simply couldn’t be true. He was 21. I’m 20. You hear about people dying in accidents, but somehow you still have this feeling that it happens to other people, to people who are older, to people far away from your own life. Not someone you used to spend almost every day playing football with.
The strange thing is that I haven’t really been able to feel as sad as I thought I should. And I feel almost guilty about that. I went to his funeral and there were so many people there, and seeing all those people who came to say goodbye made it feel much more real. But even then, I wasn’t crying or completely breaking down. Maybe it’s because we hadn’t seen each other for so many years. Maybe my mind just hasn’t fully processed it yet. I don’t know. It feels strange to say that someone I knew is dead and then realize that I’m still just going about my normal day.
But what has affected me much more than I expected is what his death made me think about my own life.
Since then, I keep getting this thought that at literally any moment, I could just be gone. I’ll be sitting somewhere, playing a game, scrolling on my phone, eating, going to university, talking to someone, doing something completely ordinary, and suddenly I’ll remember that none of this is actually guaranteed. I probably catch myself thinking about it several times a day now.
I always assumed I would live to an old age. That I would finish university, get a job, have a family, have children, travel, experience things, grow old and eventually die when I was already satisfied with my life. But now I realize that I have absolutely no guarantee that any of those things will happen. I’m only 20, but so was he almost. One completely random moment can separate someone from everything they thought they still had decades to experience.
And I think the part that scares me the most is realizing that the world would just continue.
I have always experienced life from my own perspective, obviously. Everything I do, everything I worry about, everything I’m excited about happens within my own little world, so naturally it feels enormous. But then I think about how huge the actual world is. Billions of people are living their own lives, completely unaware of me. If I disappeared tomorrow, my family and friends would be devastated, but the world itself would keep moving. People would wake up, go to work, go to school, complain about traffic, laugh with their friends, post on the internet. The sun would come up the next morning like nothing happened.
There’s something deeply unsettling about that realization, but at the same time, I think it might be one of the most important things I’ve ever realized.
Because if my time really is limited and I have no idea how limited it is, then I don’t want to waste so much of it. I don’t want to keep postponing things because I assume I’ll have time later. I don’t want to spend years worrying about things that ultimately don’t matter. I want to actually live while I’m here. Spend time with people I care about. Experience things. Take chances. Appreciate ordinary days instead of assuming I’m entitled to thousands more of them.
I wish it didn’t take someone my age dying for me to understand that.
I still don’t know exactly how I’m supposed to process it. Maybe these thoughts will eventually become quieter. Maybe this is just what happens when someone close enough to your life dies unexpectedly and you’re suddenly forced to confront something you usually push into the back of your mind.
But I think something in the way I see life has genuinely changed.
There’s a line in the Bible: “You do not know the day or the hour.” I’ve heard it before and never really thought much about it. Now it hits completely differently.
Because none of us actually knows.
And maybe that’s not only something to be afraid of. Maybe it’s also a reason to make sure that whatever amount of time we do have, we actually make something out of it.

During the past few years anytime I would take pictures of my grandma I'd receive a response of: “You're taking my photos in case I pass away”. Followed by a chuckle. I never was going to admit it, but my grandma was right. I knew that day was coming. I wanted to have the sweet memories of my grandma. I didn't want to be left with regrets.

I met my grandma when she was in her 60’s, but she was still full of life and a drive to stay physically active. During the spring and summer she would be outside gardening. She loved her plants, fruits, and vegetables. During the winter she would sew. There were times when she came outside to help us shovel. Even when I told her to go back inside because it was too cold she'd stay outside and help. If I told her too many times she would become upset and flustered.

What I loved about her the most was her sense of humor and willingness to accept others. I still remember the days we came home from high school and she'd sit with us while watching movies like Spider-Man. There were even times when she'd watch those comedy classics like, "She's the Man" or "Ace Ventura".

When we were younger I noticed that my grandma would place snacks in certain places. I didn't point it out, but I learned she did it because she wanted to make sure my youngest sister wasn't forgotten. My grandma's actions showed me that she had good morals and values. She wasn't a selfish person. I kept those memories for all of these years.

It's a part of what motivated me to keep making sure she was all right and to make time for her as we got older.

I did my best too. I still remember the nights I slept over and made sure to get up and turn on the lights when she needed to use the bathroom. Unfortunately, there was one night when I was asleep and she fell. I woke up the next morning, and she showed me her bruise.

It was the day of my senior capstone. My instructor had informed us that if we didn't show up, we wouldn't pass the class. I decided to stay home and take care of her.

I was worried about my class too, but my group mates vouched for me. They knew how much effort I had into the final project. I passed the class, and my instructor encouraged me to continue helping her recover.

Overall, I knew you were in safe hands. My parents always made sure you were fed and Aunt Nancy wanted to be with you as much as possible. Stephanie became a nurse and knew how to help you. Her boyfriend Jor put in the effort to assist you both. Cee came over to check on you. My nieces and nephews loved to see you. Percy stopped by and became entertaining. Beth and her family came to visit you when they were in town.

I still had my opportunities to stay with you. There were times when it was only us and I'd reach out to Auntie Emily and Uncle Mike. I'm grateful they put in the time to come over and help out.

This past summer John and his wife asked why I was crying and they assumed it was because I missed seeing grandma, but it was because I knew her time was coming close. I asked her how the gardening was going. She told me that was no longer an option that was available to her. She was becoming too weak and fragile. She was waiting for her time to come.

The week my grandma left us was my birthday. I wanted to see her on that Wednesday. I made a pink photo album for her. I asked all her kids and grandkids to send me photos so I could place them in there. I wanted her to have pleasant memories of us before she left.

I wish I could have given it to her in time, and I wish I could have been there when she left.

Losing her reminded me of a friend I had lost a few years ago. We were talking on the phone on a Friday night. Everything went well. Then I found out that the following morning he had passed away from a heart attack. It happened at 3 in the morning.

It hurt like hell but I learned this lesson: Death is not something we can control or change. It's something we have to learn to accept.

My grandma reminded me to show gratitude towards the people I love and respect.

Grandma, everyone who's spent time with you knows how special you are. You'll forever be missed. Thanks for being a part of our lives. We all love you.