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About Me

Found 6 results

  1. I lost my mother over a year ago fighting cancer. Im young and I was so attached to her. Im only 14 and its so hard for me. Im still coping with losing her. Thats my mom you know. I still cry when someone talks about her or when we go visit her. I feel like its never gonna change and im going to always feel sad. I get mad because why would god take her from me when he knew that she was my all. Everybody always tells me its going to be okay but they don’t understand the pain im going through. I just need advice or someone to talk to who has lost a parent also.
  2. Hello Everyone, So basically, I am very angry. My dad passed away november, 2014; it went very quick, probably within a couple months he was gone. Now i have to deal with that loss; fine, i will. Now the reason for posting: What makes me so mad, is the simple idea that people mourn over death. I guess i could sum up my feelings by saying I feel very calloused when the topic of death or loss comes up. I am finding it hard to place any value on anything in my life other than those close to me. If I have to expect death of everyone I know, why could i possibly care about your family; why do i care about all of the menial problems like divorced parents, drama etc. I cant listen to it. It enfuriates me. Basically, I feel like a very mean person. I just dont care about anyone else and their problems anymore. If i see someone fail an exam and they are miserable, or if they loose a pet; I really dont care; the thought that crosses my mind is: "Why do you think I care? I have lost more. Get over it. I had to." I am wondering if any of you have felt this way as well. What did you do to feel sympathy for others? Im having a hard time with that.
  3. It's almost been a year since the passing of my mother. I'm 27 she was 49 and I really feel cheated and pissed off she went so early. She was full of life and had dreams. She wanted to learn how to dance and overcome her own emotional obstacles and learn to be happy. I wanted that for her, just like she wanted for me (Or still wants...I believe she watches over me). My mom and I were close and I'm sad she'll never see me reach my life goals, get married or have kids, she didn't even get to go to Ireland and see the castles; she had never even been on a plane before...She wanted to see the world. She did however get to see me on TV for a small second wearing a dress she bought me and she recorded it and was so pleased, it made me feel like a star (Such a mom thing to do right?!) So, I hold onto that as my little win. So after I got back to my house in Vancouver (Family is from Ontario) I had a pile of things to do because I had been gone for a month. I had to get back to work, finish a couple personal projects (fundraiser and short film) and then on top of that I thought I was going back to my boyfriend...Well I ended up breaking up with him a week later. He brought another girl to the house and had sex in my bed...THE DAY I FLEW OUT TO SEE MY DYING MOTHER!!! Oh yeah, I know how to pick em! So I got that loser out of my life...now I'm scared I let another one in... So I'll fast forward to a month and a bit after **** storm. I bumped into a friend of mine I knew through the comedy community and we started seeing each other. I told him I didn't want to date because I wasn't in the best of places and I was reassured that it would be fine and could work through it, I said no, he asked why, I explain again. I find this is the process for a lot of my emotional stuff. If I feel sad about my mom and currently I'm in one of those long waves of sadness; I mean the ones that last for a week or so. I keep waking up sad and then I get really happy in certain points of my day and then feel absolute **** again, then tears, then I'm alright and just meh. It's never ending and I don't know how to deal with it perfectly or if that's even a thing. I told my boyfriend that I needed some space and that I did not want to go on vacation on the anniversary of my mom's death (I said yes at first and then changed my mind that maybe I would like to honour that day differently) I got the "It's time to get over it" phrase and I said he has no business having two parents and telling me where I should be in my grief. I am so afraid that maybe we are not emotionally compatible (if that's even a thing!) He doesn't think it's healthy the way I'm acting, or that I cry. One time I was drunk crying about my mom in the street and he hugged me for about 20 seconds before he let go and kept walking...What is that? Has anyone ever dealt with such an emotional idiot? And do you think it's healthy for me to still be feeling so sad after almost a year? What does it feel like even after 5 years?
  4. It's been 72 days since Bill died. 72 days that feels every bit of 72 years. I can't stand the thought of living the rest of my life without him. I was so angry with him for taking away our wonderful life and future for nothing. I'm not so angry anymore, just heartbroken. It's worse now than ever. Every day I miss him more. I just don't care about anything. I do everything I'm supposed to but there is absolutely no joy. I just want to go to sleep and wake up the day I'm to join him. Just skip all this. It's just too hard, I'm not as strong as people believe I am or I thought i was.This is by far the worst thing I've ever had to deal with. I just don't know where to go from here.
  5. I never expected to be a widow at 56. I'm sure my husband didn't expect to die at 59. Yet, here we are. 45 days ago my awesome husband and best friend died from an aortic dissection. His dying was completely senseless and preventable. All he had to do was take his medication like he said he was. From what I can tell, he hadn't taken it with any regularity for the last 4 years. I am so angry about that. He took our entire life and future away for no good reason. I don't know how people write so easily what is in their head and heart. I don't seem to be able to do that. I guess I'm here because from everything I've read, people here understand what I'm going through. So many people have written what I feel and can't express. We were together 20 years, he died 6 days before our 15th anniversary. The moment I met him, I knew we were meant to be. We were perfect for each other. There was never an awkward moment. We could and did talk to each other about everything. We rarely had disagreements and when we did they didn't last long. We did everything together and now I have no idea who I am without him. I have no clue how to live my life without him , nor do I want to. I just go through the day doing what I'm supposed to and not caring about any of it. I still can't believe he's not coming home. I can't believe this will be my life now. I am a strong person , people have always told me that. Because of that, I think they think I'm handling all of this well. I have not cried in front of anybody since he died. I haven't cried much at all and I feel guilty about that too. Thank you for listening.
  6. My father passed away late July of 2012, six days after being diagnosed with liver cancer. I was 21. The day before his death, I found him in his bed, delirious and non-responsive, so I called an ambulance. During his stay in the hospital, however, help was not forthcoming, and he only became more and more delirious; it got so bad that, at one point, he was on the bed in the fetal position, his eyes wide open and mechanically scanning from one side of the room to the other, seeing nothing while gibbering complete nonsense: where there was once a repertoire of witty humor (the kind that was often inappropriate but always hilarious) there were only screams of pain and shouts of directionless anger; where there was once twinkling eyes and affectionate winks, there was only the absence of recognition--whenever he occasionally set his eyes upon me, he would stare for a few moments and then cry out either in rage or horror: who or what did he see when he looked at me? I watched helplessly while my father's condition deteriorated until his convulsions slowed and finally, inevitably stopped the following day; the first feeling I had was not sorrow but relief--it pains me to say--that he was finally released from that nightmarish state. I remember being struck with surprise (though not anger) at how little an effect my father's death had on the scene: there was a brief "I'm sorry for your loss" styled interaction with the doctor on call (truly an unenviable role), and that was it; no family there to watch his passing (myself excluded); no teary-eyed goodbyes to be had between father and son. After 61 years of a rough life, he just died, and no one had any say in the matter. Though the funeral followed my father's death promptly, the thing in the casket looked less like my father and more like a poor quality wax model bearing his vague likeness: uncanny valley. I think looking at the corpse in the casket was what finally told me that my dad was never coming back; after the funeral, I found an unoccupied room and wept for the first time in years. The experience changed me. I had been an average student working towards an English major with a 3.0 the semester before he died; now I'm finishing up the last half of my MS in Biomedical Engineering with a 4.0 (in a field where graduate work is actually difficult). Before, I was happy just lazing about, reading books, playing games, hanging with friends and flirting with the fairer sex. I haven't been able to enjoy any of those things since he's been gone; even the book I had been working on so fervently--my baby--has remained untouched for the last year. In its place stands the cold, unfeeling sentinel that is Scientific Endeavor (which has its charm; how many people get to build a prosthetic leg that you can control with your mind? Beats me, but I'm one of 'em!); I've replaced my sense of fun with an unforgiving work ethic and my imagination with logical analysis. However, the most disturbing thing is where I was often described as being very cheerful and mellow (a description that I feel was accurate), now I have difficulties controlling my anger and can no longer recall the last time I was happy (and self-aware); in the last year, I've managed to alienate several of my friends, worry my remaining family, and even get myself into not one but two fist-fights (though my abused face has since been able to convince me that perhaps my career as an impromptu prize fighter is not as promising as I once believed). What is this? The loss of innocence? Depression? Chronic indigestion? Incredibly tiresome and a bit of a pain in the ass? (Yes.) Regardless, it's been a year and a half, and I still want to punch in the nearest undeserving wall of sufficient softness (something between feather pillow and cardboard would be preferable). I am angry, I'm mad, I'm boring, and I'm sick of it. I'm starting to think that 'healing' is less about recovering from a devastating emotional blow, and more about learning how to live with the wounds and make the best of it. Still, is it normal to be so angry about the loss of a loved one? It's starting to scare me how much less like myself I've become. Thanks for reading/enduring. ---------- Thank you for the responses; it means a lot to me.