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Found 8 results

  1. Hi Everyone, I am new to this site and just needed somewhere to talk with people who are going through grief at the same time as myself. I am 24 years old and I found out my Mum died on 1st August this year. I had not seen my Mum for nearly 5 years. She had been getting worse with her drinking for a number of years, leading her to become an abusive parent, both emotionally and physically. I did not want to leave her all alone, but I made the decision to cut ties for the sake of my own sanity when I was 19 years old (really, I was still a child and had no idea how to cope with a parent with a drinking problem). The last time I spoke to my Mum was on the phone in 2014. I can't even remember the last thing I said to her. I know she lost her phone (as alcoholics tend to do) and I never heard from her again. I had no idea where she was living and I knew nobody that she was friends/in contact with- I couldn't find her, even when I physically went searching for her last year. The day I found out she died was the worst of my life. The post mortem results said that the main cause of death was 'chronic alcohol abuse', with secondary causes of 1st stage liver disease and alcoholic ketoacidosis (because my Mum wasn't eating anything for days at a time, apparently). I have read many stories online of people whose parents are alcoholics or drug users and their children despise them and want nothing to do with them etc. I have not read anywhere about the children who, although estranged from their parent(s), still love them. This is me. I have so much love for my Mum and I am absolutely distraught that she has died at the young age of 51 through her drinking habits. The guilt I feel is immense. I feel that I left her to die alone (she was found by a friend, on her knees, leaning on to her sofa- nobody knows the exact time she died that day, but she was completely alone). I am angry, so angry- sometimes at myself, sometimes at my Mum for leaving me/abusing herself so much, my 'friends' (most of whom haven't been there for me at all), my family (the majority have gotten over it already) and random people in the street who still have a Mum and don't realise how lucky they are. The main 'feeling' I feel is numbness; because I hadn't seen her for so long, nothing about my daily routine has changed and I had not physically seen her body before she was cremated. In my head, it's not real. It's a cruel joke that someone has played on me and I will wake up to find it has all been one big nightmare. I wish that were true. I haven't got anyone even close to my own age to talk to about this- I don't know anyone who's lost a parent. How on Earth can people my own age empathise when they have no idea what this feels like? I am on the 'waiting list' for a Cruse 1-1 counselling session, but they say it could be 5 months before it happens. I don't think I can hold on to my sanity for that long, but I don't want to speak to my doctor, either- I don't want 'happy pills'. I want my Mum back. If there's anyone who's been through anything similar to myself, I would be so grateful if you could reply to this post. Even if it's not similar to my situation, I'd welcome anyone's advice/opinion.
  2. Well, he finally did it this time. Our 19 year old is in serious trouble and is currently sitting in jail because of his behaviors and horrible choices. I am struggling to understand how we got here... We saw signs early on and he has been on 100's of treatment plans and yet we still ended up exactly where we were afraid we would. Now we need to figure out how to move forward. I need help with this, I feel a constant heartache and feeling of loss that I can't describe. He had such a bright future, or so we thought. Any advice on coping with the decisions, the backlash and how to move forward is welcomed.
  3. Hi guys, I'm new to this forum but not to grieving so I hope I'm posting this in the right section. Its been seven years since my Brother and I lost our Mum after a short mental illness that ended in her giving herself alcohol poisoning. It was a very stressful and confusing time, I was 17 and my brother only 15. We (my brother, Dad and I) have all coped in different ways but I, until recently, have felt that we are in it together. My Dad began dating another women three years later. My parents were married for 23 years, so I felt that it was rather fast but I didn't want him to be lonely anymore. The new woman came with two children a couple of years younger than my brother and I. My Father made promises that our home would always be our home and that my Brother and I were always his priority. This year especially feels like my Dad is moving on from my Brother and I, with his new family that doesn't come with any grieving issues or reminders of his dead wife. He bought his new partner a house for them to live in, with rooms for her children but not for us. They have new cars, a hot tub and foreign holidays. He moved my mums cat into the new house only for his partners dog to chase her away. We haven't seen her since. I don't feel that I am welcome in the house. There are no photos of my family, no furniture from our old house either. I feel that 'the new family' are taking advantage of my Dad and his kindness to get what they want. They may not realise it, but all the perks they are getting are all because of the extreme and deverstating lose we have been through. It's not about money. It's about feeling pushed out of the life of the only parent we have left. I don't know how to bring this up without sounding conceited. I've been feeling concerned about it for some time but it's gone too far for me to have any impact now. I feel so sad, so forgotten. My Dad keeps talking about the future, he bought his partner a commitment ring just days before the anniversary of my mums death, but my brother and I are literally the past walking. We can't escape where we came from or replace what we have lost. I just don't know how to cope. I know I can't have the life that should have happened for us, but i don't think we deserve the treatment we are getting now. We've been nothing to accepting, even though it's not what we wanted. I miss having a family and a place to go home to. I feel very alone. I'm only 24. I'm not supposed to know what to do in these situations. Sorry this is so long. Thanks.
  4. My mother died a year ago today. I am whittled in grief and guilt nearly every day for not being there to help take care of her or say goodbye. Someone once described out relationship as tumultuous. Often times we reversed roles where I played the parent and she the child. I feel like our relationship was more of a sisterly kind. We were very much alike and fought like siblings. I always expected her and wanted her to be the bigger person - the parent. And that's why I didn't budge in our last (what came to be the very last) quarrel. I felt like she was the parent and therefore was tasked with being the bigger person. She didn't even acknowledge my birthday. What kind of a mother does that? A very sick one. She was so proud for so long and wouldn't accept help. Thought she was too good for rehab. Couldn't find a place for the animals while gone. I didn't answer her calls. I unfriended her on FB so she couldn't see my daughter. I felt like she proved time and time again that she wasn't worthy. I didn't want to put my daughter's life at risk if she were drinking. My daughter didn't even like her at times. She had let her down so many times already that the little girl didn't expect her to show up anymore. I couldn't have that. She deserved better. Then, the part I regret the most - I rarely accepted her calls bc I prefer text. I blocked her from my phone so I didn't have to see her call. I didn't realize I wouldn't receive texts. I just thought they'd be silenced. And she reached out to me. Told me how truly sick she was and that she stopped drinking; was ready to get help. I missed it. I didn't see it until after she passed. She died at 66; I was 36. I was away for vacation. Her friend said she was really sick and in the hospital. But without insurance she frequently used the ER as a default practice anyway. She exaggerated so much and he always gave into it. So I didn't think anything of it. Then the next evening, I received a call from a nurse advising she was to be moved to ICU bc she was having trouble breathing. At that point, I knew it was serious and tried to get a flight home. I couldn't until the next morning. She died while I was on the plane. Her 'friend' didn't even stay with her. He said he'd see after work. He never got the chance and she died alone. Alone. Without her best friend; without her daughter; without me telling her I forgave her and asked for her forgiveness. I really don't even know what I believe about life and death. All I know is the pain and regret I feel so often for so much. She had cirrhosis of the liver and couldn't stop drinking. Thus, if you think about it, she committed suicide. And many times I feel like I let her. I was so angry with her for not doing the (what I thought were simple) few things to stay alive. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She was too proud and too sick. I know I need to forgive myself and I truly hope she knew how much I love her. But I hate not knowing. I miss her so much. No one understood me like she did. I could have helped her. But I didn't. I didn't know. Maybe I didn't want to know. I feel so much at fault and just don't know where to go from here...
  5. My mother died a year ago today. I am whittled in grief and guilt nearly every day for not being there to help take care of her or say goodbye. Someone once described out relationship as tumultuous. Often times we reversed roles where I played the parent and she the child. I feel like our relationship was more of a sisterly kind. We were very much alike and fought like siblings. I always expected her and wanted her to be the bigger person - the parent. And that's why I didn't budge in our last (what came to be the very last) quarrel. I felt like she was the parent and therefore was tasked with being the bigger person. She didn't even acknowledge my birthday. What kind of a mother does that? A very sick one. She was so proud for so long and wouldn't accept help. Thought she was too good for rehab. Couldn't find a place for the animals while gone. I didn't answer her calls. I unfriended her on FB so she couldn't see my daughter. I felt like she proved time and time again that she wasn't worthy. I didn't want to put my daughter's life at risk if she were drinking. My daughter didn't even like her at times. She had let her down so many times already that the little girl didn't expect her to show up anymore. I couldn't have that. She deserved better. Then, the part I regret the most - I rarely accepted her calls bc I prefer text. I blocked her from my phone so I didn't have to see her call. I didn't realize I wouldn't receive texts. I just thought they'd be silenced. And she reached out to me. Told me how truly sick she was and that she stopped drinking; was ready to get help. I missed it. I didn't see it until after she passed. She died at 66; I was 36. I was away for vacation. Her friend said she was really sick and in the hospital. But without insurance she frequently used the ER as a default practice anyway. She exaggerated so much and he always gave into it. So I didn't think anything of it. Then the next evening, I received a call from a nurse advising she was to be moved to ICU bc she was having trouble breathing. At that point, I knew it was serious and tried to get a flight home. I couldn't until the next morning. She died while I was on the plane. Her 'friend' didn't even stay with her. He said he'd see after work. He never got the chance and she died alone. Alone. Without her best friend; without her daughter; without me telling her I forgave her and asked for her forgiveness. I really don't even know what I believe about life and death. All I know is the pain and regret I feel so often for so much. She had cirrhosis of the liver and couldn't stop drinking. Thus, if you think about it, she committed suicide. And many times I feel like I let her. I was so angry with her for not doing the (what I thought were simple) few things to stay alive. She wouldn't. She couldn't. She was too proud and too sick. I know I need to forgive myself and I truly hope she knew how much I love her. But I hate not knowing. I miss her so much. No one understood me like she did. I could have helped her. But I didn't. I didn't know. Maybe I didn't want to know. I feel so much at fault and just don't know where to go from here...
  6. Hello everyone, I have been looking for a space to express my feelings, and hope that I have found it here in this group. Thank you in advance to anyone who is reading this. So my story begins with an alcoholic father, who was always a drinker since the day I was born. For whatever reason, I always took it upon myself to try to get him to stop. I would talk to his doctors all the time to seek advice and find out about his health. It got to the point that I would secretly hope there was something wrong with his health that would make him have to stop drinking. His drinking ruined my family, caused my parents to divorce when I was only 5, maybe thats the reason I felt it was my responsibility. I dont know. In June of 2013, my father had fallen out side of his apartment building where he lived with his girlfriend of 5 years. She called an ambulance which brought him to the local hospital and then called me to tell me she was kicking him out and not allowed back in the apartment as he had been lying about his drinking for months. This all happened around 9am. I did what any daughter would do, got in the car and drove the 45 minutes away to make sure my father was alright. As soon as I got there, i watched as he fought the doctors and nurses, refusing care because he needed to leave and get his next drink. I tried talking to him, as he was over come with shakes from the withdrawls, telling me that he hadnt drank anything that day. I just couldnt take the lying and broke down. He was released from the hospital that day with nowhere to go. He was homeless and i certainly wasnt going to allow him to come to my house and enable his behavior. For the next month I struggled to get him to go into a rehab facility to no avail. He was living in his car for about a month before getting dizzy spells daily. One night he walked himself to the hospital to seek help and tests revealed that he had a 90% block to his heart. After a full week of detox and 2 more weeks of recovery they were able to place a cathater and he was released shortly thereafter. By then I was able to get him a room at the local YMCA, which he finally agreed to after refusing for 3 days. At first, he treated his release from the hospital as a second lease on life. He called me daily to give me updates on his health and promised that he was not drinking. I suggested that he go to an AA meeting to get some support as dealing with an addiction is a very difficult thing to do on your own. His response was "I am not an alcholic, that stopped in the hospital". I was so angry at him for not wanting to fight this disease that I refused to talk to him anymore if he wasnt going to take care of himself. After about three weeks of staying at the Y, it was obvious that he had started drinking again because his behavior was very eratic. I received a phone call one morning at 11am that he was found lying at the bottom of a stairwell in a puddle of his own blood. I thought to myself, here we go again. He bumped his head when he fell down drunk, again. After finding him at one of the local hospitals (he was entered as John Doe), what I saw was so far from just a bump on the head. They brought my sister and I into "the bad news room" to explain that my father had suffered signficant injuries and they were not sure if he would recover. As the days went on the doctors became less and less optimistic. They told us that even if he woke from his coma, that he would never be the same, never live a normal life. As his medical proxy, I made the decision to refuse life support and he passed 3 days later. I feel so much guilt about so many things, "should i have waited a few more days", "why couldnt i just accept him for who he is", "did he know I loved him", "could I have done anything more to help". I miss him so much and I feel like its my fault. Its been almost 4 months and i still feel like it was yesterday. Any words of wisdom or advice are more than welcome.
  7. My youngest daughter (19) and I just returned from visiting my 25 year old daughter in Rehab for alcohol. As part of her program the family spends a week learning how to deal with the addicted personality. I'll start from the beginning. In May of 2006 my daughter was ejected in a single car rollover at 65 mph. She survived the accident with a fractured hip, a torn femoral artery, broken arm, some internal injuries, and a subarachnoid brain hemorrhage along with frontal bruising of the brain. She was in a vegetative state for 9 weeks. She started responding and came through her physical injuries pretty well. I spent 5 months with her first at the hospital, then Rehabilitation. The outward signs of her injury are in her voice, balance, and fine motor skills. She walks without aid after spending 8 months in a wheelchair. She re-learned to do most everything. She's attractive. My daughter missed her high school graduation but had already earned her diploma. She was accepted at college for fall 2006. Instead, after more than a year of recovery she started junior college fall of 2007, with lots of help from Disabled Student Services and private tutors. She hates to read because her vision is off. Basically, I tried everything to get her back. All the vision programs, endless physical therapy, anything I found on the internet that might help. I prayed, along with friends and family for her recovery. She does not care to be involved with anyone who is brain injured or any program of that type. In summer 2008 she drove off in her truck (unlicensed, she had the vehicle before her injury) while my husband and I were 2 hours away dealing with his father's death. My daughter hit a tree, totaling her vehicle. She was arrested for drunk driving. Since then it has been one situation after another, compounding her injury with drinking. I have isolated myself, lost interest in life. I used to be outgoing and socially active. I herniated a disc in my neck in 2010. Had it surgically repaired (ACDF) in February 2011. I am in constant physical pain and have sleep problems. My other children have had all kinds of personal issues since my daughter's injury. Now I tell them they need to live their lives. My parents are elderly. Dad has Alzheimer's and mom is his main caregiver. My siblings do not live close and those that do are not helping. They all have their own lives and I am left to to handle many of the day to day issues that come up for my parents. About 3 weeks ago my daughter got drunk and scared her small dog after falling with her. The poor dog ran away and was hit by a car. My husband and I took my daughter to Rehab the following day. The people at the rehab recommend Alanon and grief counseling. How do I let go of my daughter? She has caused so many problems in our family and won't quit. She says she drinks because she's lonely but I say she's lonely because she drinks. She was away at school and was asked to leave the sorority. Then she was sent home from college because of drinking episodes. She's disrespectful towards me and her sisters. She cusses at me, embarrassing both of us publicly. There's no boundary. I cannot have her living in my home as she falls right into an extremely lazy lifestyle, including on-line dating (which no amount of talking about its dangers makes a difference. She's even discussed moving to a unknown town just to date a guy). She says she wants to be married and have a family but I'm not sure she could even take care of a child. I would appreciate any ideas as I've about exhausted all avenues. We have to make decisions concerning her soon, as she will be released from the program. I will never give up on her. I need to be healthy.
  8. Oh, Jeremy.....

    Where do I even begin..... Well, the beginning. I am Amie, when I was born I had a friend that was already selected by nature to be my best friend, teach me unforgettable lessons, and help every step of my way. His name is Jeremy, and he is my big brother. We have always been very close. I am now 23, and confused with life. He was 25 when he died, just weeks before his birthday. Well, the history of his life, my life, and our family is quite deep and painful. Jeremy joined the army when he was 18, and served two years, even went to Iraq, before returning home with his honorable discharge. Upon his arrival home, he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia. I hate the stigma, and assumptions that go through others' mind when they hear of this disease. He had such a hard time. He spent the following six+ years taking anti-psychosis medications and relapsing his pills, going through an inner hell on a daily basis. He had been in and out of psychiatric wards a few handfull of times. He eventually started drinking heavily, and majority of the time did not take his medication. For the past two+ years he would drink roughly 18 beers a day. He would walk around the city, sometimes pass out in bushes, and wake up in the hospital hours later or even the next day absolutely confused why he is there. People have called the police on him because he would be wandering while drunk. One time he was walking barefoot, went into a 7-11, and told the clerk to call the police on him because he was losing his mind. This was after a several day drug binge. You see, though, Jeremy is (was) the most innocent, intelligent, wise, witty, goofy guy I have ever known. Schizophrenia or not, the disease did not take him away. It just became a part of him. It tormented him, and he was desperate to not feel the way he did, therefore began binging with drugs. For years he would find cocaine from someone, and binge for about a week straight, and then not touch it again for 6+ months. One of his most recent cocaine binges resulted in him desperately wanting to live in a sober living home to help himself get cleaned up. Unfortunately, while there, he met a man named Erik. Or should I say boy. Erik was there for heroin. Eventually they began getting motel rooms in DTLA, and Jeremy was smoking heroin while Erik shot it up. This was about a year and a half before Jeremy would chase the dragon for the final time. Well, my details are feeling scatterbrained as I think I am still in total shock. All I know is Jeremy got really sick. It was a Thursday and his illness just began. My dad called me to tell me about his symptoms. That Saturday I drove over there (we live 45 min away from eachother) and visited. Jeremy was so sick that he could not walk, could hardly talk, and was crying with frustration and didn't understand what was happening to him. He hated hospitals so refused to let anyone take him, until I convinced him something is seriously wrong. There were buckets in his room that he had been vomiting in and peeing in, as he could NOT walk. He was perfectly healthy before. On Sunday at 9 AM my dad took him to the emergency room. I stayed home and cleaned his whole room, his bedding, vomit, everything.. so when he got back home it would be comfortable for him. While cleaning his room I found roughly 20 balloons of heroin- black tar- 9 of them had been used and 11 of them were untouched. I flushed all of it down the toilet. I also left a note on his desk saying I loved him, and I am sorry if he feel I invaded his privacy by cleaning his room, I just wanted him to feel comfortable. I left the house before he came back with my dad, because I thought he was going to be mad about the heroin. Two days later, it is now Tuesday morning, I am at work eating a subway sandwich on my lunch break. I just so happened to already be on the phone with my mom, and my dad called her on the other line. We both immediately knew something was wrong with Jeremy, as my dad never calls her. Especially that early. She called me back, wouldn't tell me what was happening, and just said we need to get to the hospital. My dad found Jeremy dead early Tuesday morning, in his room, sitting in the same position and place where he had seen him the night before. He touched his skin and it still felt warm, so he called the ambulance. They told my dad to perform CPR until they arrived-- somehow, by some freak of nature, they were able to bring him back to life. When I arrived to the hospital Jeremy had only been there for an hour, and the doctors said he already coded 4 times but they finally have him stable. Eventually we discovered both of his kidneys had failed, and that he will need a dialysis of his blood will just poison his body to death. At this point I was standing beside him, in shock, watching all of the tubes. He was on 100% life support. I went home that night, after the doctors did the dialysis, and told me his potassium levels were back to normal. I felt like everything might be okay. Well the next day, I woke up and went back to the hospital, and immediately there was a whole team in the serenity room wanting to speak about his condition, and our options as his family. My mom, dad, and I sat there as we were told Jeremy is 100% brain dead, and there is absolutely no chance of him ever coming back. For some reason they were not able to take him off life support until the next day, so we scheduled the time to be at 4 PM. We all got to have a personal last moment with him, I got to tell him all of the non-thoughts I was having. I literally had no thoughts. I was in shock. I just layed on him in silence, kissed his eyelids, smelled him for the last time, and told him how much I loved him and how I'm not sure how to be an Amie without a Jeremy. And that part still holds true, I do not know what to do. I've lost pretty much all my friends, as a result of pushing them away, as none of them understand whatsoever the immense pain that is now my world. Anyway, heroin took my brothers life. On Wednesday, the day before he became very sick, he got some heroin from a friend of Erik's. He binged with that heroin, smoking all 9 balloons that night. Thursday he immediately got extremely sick from whatever the adulterant was that the heroin was cut with. It took 11 days in total to kill my brother. And I......... I ..........am lost. I know this is happening, but somehow still have a hard time accepting that it has happened. -- it has been three months, now.--
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