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      Hi all,  I'm sure you've noticed some changes in the forums. We've again had to do some updates, so that's why things may look a little different. Nothing major should have changed.  Also, we are going to start adding advertisements sensitive to our community on the boards. This is something we are experimenting with, and we will certainly make sure they are in the best interests of everyone. We want to make sure our forums continue to stay accessible and cost free to all of our members, and this is a way to ensure this.  If you have any questions or comments, please feel free to privately message me or email me at Konnie@beyondindigo.com.  As always, we will be here with you, ModKonnie

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Found 151 results

  1. On November 18, 2016 my life changed forever. Since that date I've never been the same.. I'm trying to figure out what is my purpose, who I am.. I'm trying to figure out this thing called life. November 18.. Brings instant tears to my eyes, the day I lost the love of my life and my best friend. For over a year now I been trying to help myself with a positive mentality, a heart filled with faith, I've read a couple of self help books/ grieving books I go for walks and enjoy nature I make projects dedicated to my sweetheart in heaven. However I felt it was time for me to reach out and get advice from people who have experienced what is all so new to me. I'm scared.. Of my future I'm scared of everyone I'm scared of my own thoughts sometimes. Denis, my sweet love.. Where do I begin? Denis was a very sweet genuine person. Although there were factors in life that made him very sad and stressed he always brought a smile to those around him. Always a bright vibrant smile on his face, a bubbly ..funny ..goofy loving 24 year old. I'm 23 and one thing I hate is when people tell me I'm young and life continues but that's not the case. I've dated people before but no one like Denis. He brought out the happy little girl that lives inside of me that we as adults tend to forget about. Denis made me live my life to the fullest everyday I can't tell you how much he made me smile and laugh. My bestest friend in the whole world, My sweet Den. We spent everyday together and I always felt those butterflies. Have you ever looked at someone you love while they're driving or doing something so small and just smile because they're the most wonderful soul you've ever met. Life brought us together in a mysterious way and I know it was written in our journey to meet. Now that he is no longer here I feel so confused so sad I feel bitter and angry I feel insecure and unsafe. It's an emotional roller coaster and I don't know how to help myself, it's tough getting used to this new "normal" we all hear the basics.. They're always with us and we have to keep pushing forward right? Some people just don't understand or how about the times when you just wanna break down but you keep it in because you feel like you talk about your loved ones so much that you don't wanna sound like a broken record or some people just feel awkward and don't know the proper things to say... And I don't blame them. Time keeps moving along and I see all my friends settling down with their significant other and living life to the fullest and here I am.. Part of my mind lives in the past part of my mind tries to keep up with now. To be here for those that still love and need me. The problem is I lost my soulmate and it might sound absurd or crazy to some and that's okay because at the end of the day no one was in my shoes except myself, but I did. I never believed in many things but Den had to go to be part of me forever he still sends me signs and I love everyone of them but I just miss him. I would like to hug him and hold his hand tell him it will be alright. it hurts so much because well I really am deeply in love with him and even though he's not here in this physical dimension I see him in my dreams and feel him everywhere. Everyday I think of him.. Everyday I miss him.. Everyday I cry for him.. On my really rough days that's when it hits me the most. When I used to have bad days I would run to him and he made it all better by cracking a silly joke or simply a hug meant the world to me. In the generation I live in now people scare me so much. Sometimes I'm convinced den and me had old souls installed in young bodies. How do you do it ? How do you continue on with a broken heart? Because since Denis passed away a part of me died with him too I've been so destroyed inside that I don't recognize myself anymore. ive lost who I am.
  2. Loss of Neighbor

    Hi everyone, I'm fourteen years old and my neighbor died about an hour ago. It was from old age and he was really sick before he passed. I feel really numb at the moment and am not sure what to do. I've known him almost my whole life. I didn't go over and visit him like I should have. I was selfish and stayed at home because I didn't want to see him sick. I really thought that he would live forever, I guess. He'd been sick before and always got better. My mom always went over to go visit, but I didn't like to, so I stayed away. His house was full of dust (his wife died when I was eight and he had mobility issues) and I have bad allergies, so that was one of the reasons I didn't go over. I realize now that it sucked. By the time I realized that he was going to die soon, I wanted to go over and sit by him and let him know that I love him, but my mom didn't want me to go see him as apparently he was really bad and it would have disturbed me. She does have pretty good judgement, though, so I trusted her, even though it made my gut wrench. Anyways, I guess my point is that I have a lot of regrets. I only told him that I loved him once and that was when I was little. He was your stereotypical old guy: kinda brash and grumpy, but lovable. As I'm lying here in bed on my laptop typing this, I don't feel much at all. Obviously, I feel a bit sad, but I honestly feel basically nothing. I never went over there because I wanted to after his wife died, as she was one of the kindest old ladies you could ever meet. I don't know what to do. I go back to school on Tuesday and I'm afraid that I'll start crying in the middle of class. What do I do if this happens? Is it normal that I feel almost nothing? Please help me!
  3. Hi everyone, I was looking online for a support group to help me through the losses and stress and from what I can see this is a very supportive group and I'm glad to have found that. I'm 35 and feel like I should be able to handle life, stress and coping much better than I am. On the outside I look strong, confident and ready but on the inside I can tell I'm not. I'm going to say this is long right now so I don't expect anyone to read through it all (although I'm hoping, of course, that some do) and provide me with some insights or...something I guess. For me, writing is therapeutic, I enjoy it and I'm naturally long winded but I really think you need to know the whole story so you understand how I'm currently feeling. If nothing else skip to the last paragraph or 2. On July 30th, 2017 I lost my last living grandparent, my mom's dad, and by far the one I was closest to. Even though he was 90 up until a week before his death he was happy and for 90 years old, very healthy. It was unexpected and hard but I thought manageable because "he was your grandpa and you knew it was coming". I thought I was as prepared as I could have been. I was sad. I still am but I felt it was normal, manageable grief. August 4th I found out my dad had tonsil cancer and then 1 week later we learned it was stage IV. While trying to continue to learn a new job and hoping to at least feel like I was helping as much with my dad (living 1 hour south with treatment another 1.5 hours south) and my step-mom take care of their farms and getting to chemo and radiation treatments my step-dad had to have an emergency bowel resection in October. At that point we rallied the troops. Mom had retired earlier in the year so she had my step-dad's care handled. My step-mom retired and took care of my dad, letting us be as big or little a part of his care that we could and wanted to. Older brother 1 (of 3) took mornings off to drive dad to chemo and radiation when we thought my step-mom needed a break. Older brother 2 was in the middle of a life change so him moving across the country back home was good timing, he took turns taking care of dad as well. Older brother 3 helped with everything as well. I went to a couple of appointments and treatments but was mostly moral support on the phone and visits to the house. We each took time to visit my step-dad at the hospital and then when he was back at home. The end of October dad finished his treatments and we went into a waiting game until January to find out how well or if the treatments worked. So as we watched dad continue to be sick from the treatment and lose weight we also watched my step-dad get better and then worse and then better... Wounds would not heal and then they would get better. Then he would feel worse and be back in the hospital for one reason or another. Never sick enough to require more than a couple of overnights in the hospital but not well enough to just be completely better. I called my mom, if not every night, every other night. That's been our routine since I started planning my wedding in 2006 so nothing out of the ordinary. Emotionally I was there for mom and offered continued support and always asked about her husband's health and how he was doing and offering to come visit. She would of course decline the offers because she knew I was busy at work and it was a long drive for me and also because she's strong. Mom is a strong woman but she's also emotionally dependent on others. She would rather make you feel guilty for something you didn't do rather than just tell you what she wants or needs when you ask. Which leads me to December 4th. My step-dad was back in the hospital with failing kidneys. Rather, they had been failing over the last several weeks but this was the first it was really being addressed. He had a kidney biopsy and things went well so my mom started to make the long drive back home. One hour later she gets a call from the hospital saying he had internal bleeding and was being taken to ICU. That's where he stayed until Wednesday. Of course my brothers and I called and checked on mom, sent flowers, offered to drive down to visit but he was improving and she said not to. By Thursday he was back in a regular room and although he was very confused, from what we assumed was the pain medication, he was improving. Saturday the 9th, mom gets a call at 5:30am saying he was being taken to ICU and they needed immediate authorization for emergency dialysis. Of course she said "yes" and that it would be 2 hours to drive back that far to the hospital. She called me at 6:30am letting me know what was going on. Since I was on-call for work I said I could not leave until 9:30 when I could find someone to fill in for me. We decided that since older brother 3 was planning to visit the hospital that morning anyway I would come down on Sunday. I talked to brother 3 at 8:30 that morning and he was on his way to visit the hospital and would call me that afternoon with an update. 9:03am I answer the phone to my mom saying "He's gone. I don't know what to do. I can't talk". Click. Of course I know who she was talking about. Of course I know I have to do something. Of course I know I need to call someone. Problem is I didn't know where to start because I was devastated. That's not a word I had ever used until August but I was getting to know it well. I called brother 3 knowing he was driving and he answered with "I know". We were both in shock so I could not have expected anything else but all I needed to know was how long until he got to mom because even if I had run out of the house in my bathrobe straight from the shower (as I was currently running around my house) it would have taken me over 2 hours to get there. Luckily he was only 40 minutes away from mom. I didn't bother calling brother 1 because I knew he was in the woods hunting and would not get the call. I didn't call brother 2 because he's not great about answer his phone and he was out of town on business. I woke my husband, balling, and he asked if it was my dad because he could tell someone was dead he just didn't know who else I would be reacting like that to. I answered him it was my step-dad not my dad and it's funny that I remember that because I for some reason don't recall the minute details of the next 2 hours but I do remember that question. My husband was upset but completely controlled. He gave me 1 step after the other, one at a time to keep me going. I called my mom's only sister and she had gotten the same call as me so neither of us knew anything other than I needed her to get here as soon as possible. She was in the car within 2 hours making the 4 hour drive and she stayed by mom's side the entire week which we could not have been more grateful for. The next few days were a whirl wind that I know all of you know well because, hey, we are in this group for a reason. In the midst of planning a funeral for my step-dad we at least had the good fortune of starting to see improvements in my dad's health and finally getting better from the chemo. So here I am, 1 month after the death of my step-dad, 5 months after my dad's diagnosis and 6 months after the death of my grandpa. 2017 was not a good year despite having some really good times, the bad outweigh them right now. I've had some self-revelations. When my grandpa died I was completely at peace with my relationship with him. I held his hand the day before and had lunch with him 2 weeks prior. I'm not religious, in fact I'm atheist so I don't think God will help me through any of this but I do think self-awareness, strength and family will. When my dad was diagnosed I was terrified of losing him and had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach from the beginning. I still do, and I will until we get the results of his scan on Monday (60 hours from now). When the funeral was finally over for my step-dad I felt sad, guilty, mad...all the "normal" feelings. I think. But I don't feel at peace. I was 4 when my parents divorced, 5 when mom started dating and 7 when they got married, so my step-dad was a part of my life for 30 years. I'm positive that my childhood was almost, completely, all good. I have the pictures to prove it. But the actual memories about my childhood with my mom, brothers and step-dad (apart from my dad, his wife and her kids) are not good. I remember him coming home drunk, I remember them fighting, I remember being embarrassed to have friends over, I remember playing pool and darts at the bar while they visited with their friends, I remember my mom struggling financially, I remember by brothers moving out and going to college while I was at home with all of it. I moved out of my mom's house when I was 15 to live with my dad. I remember telling her it was because of my step-dad and I remember being mad she "chose him over me". As an adult I thought I had reconciled all of those feelings, that although he was not a good step-dad, he was an incredible grandpa to my 2 nephews and niece. I assumed it came with age and maturity on his part. I also realize that at times I was a brat to deal with. I never thought about the fact that he went from being a 38-year-old life bachelor to the step-dad of 4 kids ages 7-18 and how hard that probably was for him. As a now married woman I had a much better relationship with him the last 10--15 years as we both matured. Right now I'm having a hard time dealing with all of the emotions that come with the grief of a grandpa and a step-dad as well as my dad's health. How do I manage? What can I do to help myself grieve for everything? I'm completely overwhelmed by emotions right now, but mostly sadness. I talk to my mom and we ask how each other how we are doing and we tell each other what made us happy, sad or teary-eyed that day I talk to my husband but sometimes it feels like he's moved on and I haven't. I feel like my grief doesn't mean as much to my friends because "it was just your grandpa, it's expected" and "it was your step-dad not your dad". While that is true, it also could not be further from the truth. Does anyone have advise on what I can do, should do, read...anything to help me feel like I'm going down the right path of grief and healing? If you made it to the end of that, thank you. If you skipped to this paragraph, I understand. Basically it boils down to this. I've lost my grandpa, watched my dad battle stage IV cancer and buried my step-dad in the last 6 months. What do I do next?
  4. Last November I came back to my dorm room to find my sweet little boy Pudge in some serious distress. He was yowling, his back legs lost circulation, he couldn't move, and he was so so scared. I immediately started crying because I knew he was going to die, and despite my pleading with him not to as I drove to the vet, he did just that. The doctor told me that he was in a lot of pain, his heart was weak, he had a blood clot in a major artery, and there was nothing to be done. I had to make the most difficult decision I've ever made and I'll never forget the way he looked at me as he went. His little head was resting in my hand as I cried. He looked at me as if to say it was okay, and it was his time to go. As his eyes finally closed, and his breathing stopped, it felt as though the whole world went silent. Pudge was the sweetest little boy in the entire world and I loved him with all of my heart. I am a college student living with Major Depression and a General Anxiety Disorder. In the Fall of 2016, I decided to bring my cat to school with me as an emotional support animal and it was the best decision I've ever made. I am an RA and I live alone, so it was perfect. He helped me sleep, or calm down during a panic attack. He was there for me and loved me unconditionally. He was an older cat, 14 at the time of his death, and he LOVED attention. I would look forward to coming home every day because he would be there waiting for me. We spent hours doing homework, cuddling, watching Netflix and YouTube videos, and taking naps. You name it! He was the sweetest cat I've ever known. He never hissed at, scratched, or bit me. Many of my friends and residents commented on how close we were. He really was like a son to me. He lived a happy and beautiful life with me, and now he's gone. I just... I thought we had more time to be together. I thought he would be there for my graduation. We were going to make Christmas cards, I bought him a little sombrero to throw him a quinceñera this year, etc. I don't know what to do without him. I can't sleep, I just lay in bed and stare at the ugly white box they put his ashes in. Sometimes I start crying and I hold it wishing that he were there. I need to find an urn for him but they're all so expensive, and I'm on a college student budget. I miss him, I miss everything about him. Even the way he would cry to be held at night, the way he would rub against my face when I was sleeping and he wanted attention, or how he would walk all over my laptop and disrupt my work. Now I have no one to hold, to cuddle with or kiss on the cheek. My room is silent, empty, lifeless. I could barely open the door to my room and spend five minutes in there after it happened. Now it's more bearable but I still feel an overwhelming sense of dread when I go home. I recently went to my actual home for Winter Break. I used to cry every day, but the entire week before I went home I only teared up a little. When I packed my car and put all of his stuff in it... the litter box, the food bowl, his toys, his treats... it was all too much. I broke down crying. Now I cry every night, despite my best efforts. I don't know what to do. I'm at a loss because of my loss. I realize that getting better and moving on isn't a straight line. I'll have setbacks, take one step forward and three steps back, etc. But I feel like I'm grieving INCORRECTLY or something. He was my best friend, my little son, my love bug. We were co-dependent. He wasn't just a cat, he was my family. Now he's gone.
  5. Grief: Your pain is your joy turned inside out Your pain is your joy turned inside out: Grief is many things, including the death of a loved one. Holidays and special dates intensify feelings of grief. Yesterday I caught up with Psychotherapist Tony Caldwell for a chat about grief and its many forms and how it can be approached.
  6. I was only 9 when my Uncle drowned in front of my very eyes. When they pulled him out the water with his tongue hanging out; Lifeless. When I felt numb in shock watching my loved ones run around the harbour screaming and crying. When the pain for the rest of my life would begin to set in, but the death wouldn't stop there. My father soon after committed suicide. Then lost 4 grandparents to death. I'm 18, and still too young to go through that amount of tragedy. I'm haunted, I'm bitterly angry. I hate my deceased father, how could he do this to me? choose to leave his children and kill himself. Its selfish. He's disgusting. I feel so much boiling anger at what happened. I felt extreme sadness, isolation, anger, depression, loss of appetite, anxiety about death. I fear death and the pain so much that I have dreams about my loved ones dying, reoccurring, different everytime. I'm scarred and want answers. I can't cope with the grief even when it was years ago. Heck, I even contemplated suicide and self harm several times, but never would I allow myself to do that, I'm too strong of a person. However, I feel so angry and grieved at what happened. It's a common feeling but when you're in your own shoes the feeling are so much stronger than anyone would ever understand, I would only be the one who would understand just how much it has affected me. I have experienced some tragic things and i'll never forgive my father for what he did, and what he has put me through.
  7. Hi everyone, I'm posting this from Sweden so please excuse my sometimes broken English.. Here's my story..in 2013 my beloved Mother passed away suffering from pneumonia. She lived in a nursing home since a second stroke paralized her in 1998. The last night I was sitting by her bedside for some hours watching her breathe very hard and fast, no pauses. She was totally awake and alerte and the breathing had been going on for about 5 hours. Finally I rang the nurse and she came and gave my Mom 7.5 mg of Morphine and 5 mg of Stesolide( I don't know the word for this relaxing meds in English). After about 30 minutes I rang again in some kind of panic because I didn't think it eased the breathing that much. I was a fool thinking the meds would change my Mom's breathing... The nurse came again and I asked if she could have some more.. How I hate myself for this!!! The nurse said yes and gave her another injection and despite of what I thought and hoped for this seem to make her breathing more labored. I was in such denial, my brother and I had spoken to the doctor and the chief nurse earlier that day and asked them to try and save her, and we got some hope up, maybe there was a little chance she might live through this! Having had a sick Mother for 25 years, it was almost impossible to understand that this was it-she was going to die. Anyway, being in such a state of denial I went to bed thinking tomorrow was another day and we would try and save her. She died an hour after I went to bed and left her with a girl who worked there.. I torture myself every day for asking the nurse for more and then going to bed. I would have done everything to make this undone:( I feel totally devastated.
  8. Hi everyone, I'm posting this from Sweden so please excuse my sometimes broken English.. Here's my story..in 2013 my beloved Mother passed away suffering from pneumonia. She lived in a nursing home since a second stroke paralized her in 1998. The last night I was sitting by her bedside for some hours watching her breathe very hard and fast, no pauses. She was totally awake and alerte and the breathing had been going on for about 5 hours. Finally I rang the nurse and she came and gave my Mom 7.5 mg of Morphine and 5 mg of Stesolide( I don't know the word for this relaxing meds in English). After about 30 minutes I rang again in some kind of panic because I didn't think it eased the breathing that much. I was a fool thinking the meds would change my Mom's breathing, but I did hope it would... The nurse came again and I asked if she could have some more.. How I hate myself for this!!! The nurse said yes and gave her another injection and despite of what I thought and hoped for this seem to make her breathing more labored. I was in such denial, my brother and I had spoken to the doctor and the chief nurse earlier that day and asked them to try and save her, and we got some hope up, maybe there was a little chance she might live through this! Having had a sick Mother for 25 years, it was almost impossible to understand that this was it-she was going to die. Anyway, being in such a state of denial I went to bed thinking tomorrow was another day and we would try and save her. She died an hour after I went to bed and left her with a girl who worked there.. I torture myself every day for asking the nurse for more and then going to bed. I would have done everything to make this undone:( I feel totally devastated.
  9. Hello, I'm new to this forum but I actually came across it two weeks ago. I do want to say that I am going to counseling and going to my first appointment next Thursday so this is just a temporary way to let out what I've been hiding. To start off I lost a family member this year, two actually in the same year. One was in her 30s * my cousin * Another was my grandmother * 93* I want to start off by saying that I wasn't sure what I was grieving about when my cousin passed a way it was very sudden and a lot of mystery about it. It really didn't feel like their was any closure. It took me half of the year to try and move on and then before thanksgiving my grandmother passed away from old age. That brought back memories of my cousins funeral * her's was open casket my grandmothers was cremation * I went through the stages again, first two days or even three I couldn't eat very much. I could stomach soup at the very least but that only lasts for so long. Around the weekend when thanks giving arrived I was feeling confident enough to start eating solid foods again and I did. Later on though, I've noticed something strange. My ocd * and intrusive thoughts * have been acting up more then before and that's what prompted me to go back and seek help. I guess what this entails is that ... I've never really gone through this process before let alone twice and it hit me harder then I could have imagined. I am also starting to wonder if I am hearing things or if it's just an over active imagination along with my intrusive thoughts. You see, in the moment I think I am, but after a while it's just quiet and sometimes I can get past that by distracting myself. I'm just not sure how to bring that up to my counselor. :'( I'm not sure if it's something I am 100% experiencing or if it's from being at home and not going out as much during this time. I'm sorry if this sounds like a jumbled mess. I've been holding this in for a long time. As of 12/3/2017 I think I have an answer The word I am looking for was bereavement. Finding that word, reading the symptoms of it all, god I could cry right about now I truly thought I was starting to lose it with all that I've been typing out the past week. I don't have major signs of depression, but I've definitely felt everything else and the in betweens. Having Anxiety really doesn't help though. I understand this more now. It was the same when my dog passed away, all I could hear was his barking because I was so used to it, my grandma I thought she was talking to me at times because it was random things now and then. Now that I know what this all is I am definitely bringing this up to my therapist on Thursday. God, I could cry now though realizing that their is a word and it's not psychotic. When my cousin passed the only thing I could see was the her in the casket for three weeks straight. My brain thought it traumatic enough to block out but when my grandmother died it brought back all those memories. Now know that this is... unfortunately common I don't feel as off my rocker as I did before.
  10. Hi everyone, so when I was 8 years old I lost my Dad suddenly due to an illness. At the time I soon returned to school and normality and actually in a way as a child, I just blocked it all out and almost allowed myself to forget it even happened. Sure I would get upset from time to time but only privately. So I grew up through my teenage years with no male role model at all, still blocking it out. I'm now 20 and in recent times the loss of my Dad has suddenly really hit me hard. I find myself getting so desperately distressed and feel such despair because as a child he really was my inspiration and the light of my life. I struggled without a male role model as I found it hard having such a lack of judgement of what a 'man' is and how to become one, but at the time I just shrugged it off. But I find myself really upset about everything I'll miss with him, when I graduate, when I get married someday, if I ever have children, etc. At family gatherings it's as though nobody acknowledges the fact that my Dad was once sat with us also having a great time and I just feel so lost and out of place. I was wondering if anyone had a similar experience to me and that maybe we could talk about it or something? It's almost like a delayed grief because I bottled it up for so long. thank you for reading
  11. Hi, I'm a visual communication student in my final year of university. I'm currently trying to gather information and opinions on the topic of grief; something I have felt myself, I lost my mother at the age of 12 to terminal cancer. For my final major project I want to explore a visual representation of the inner feelings of grief. I'm at the start of research which is why I seek your help! please fill in my survey any help would be extremely appreciated. I'm hoping to create a small illustrated/collage/photography book to support people grieving because I think there isn't any books out their to help us visually in a creative way. I myself being a creative person I struggled to get support from books provided to me at my time of loss. Thank you very much! https://www.surveymonkey.co.uk/r/Z5CHB6L
  12. Dear friends, I wanted to post this article that I read today. We all have to grieve how and when we want, there is no time limit. https://whatsyourgrief.com/trust-me-as-i-grieve/
  13. Hello, I don’t really know how to begin, or what to say. I’ve never felt anything like this, in my life, and I am a sensitive and emotional person, in the first place. This pain is almost immeasurable, it feels surreal. Last Tuesday, my soul mate died, and I wasn’t there to say goodbye. I absolutely hate myself, the guilt is killing me, and I just wish that I could be with her, again, and spend eternity with her, because the thought of death with her is so much better than the thought of living without her. Cleo was 19 when she died. She lived a long life, filled with love. She was the most beautiful, loving, and sensitive cat, I have ever known. She was perfect, and unique, and all her quirks that irritated others, just made me love her all the more. She was basically a self-imposed house cat. Despite constant access to the outdoors, she preferred to go out only with human company. Mostly mine. She was a family cat, but everyone knew that mine and Cleo’s love was like no other. I was her favourite, and she is mine, above all others. We had a bond and connection to each other, that I cannot even begin to think of describing with words, alone. It was just.. she was, and is, part of me. We understood each other. I didn’t look at her as a cat; she was Cleo. A beautiful, gorgeous, loving, radiant, hilarious, adorable, chubby, sensitive, warm spirit, that changed my life. I could never bring myself to fully contemplate what would happen when she died, but I never imagined that I wouldn’t be there for her. Last December, I moved to Denmark to be with my Danish boyfriend, since, fiancé. With Cleo’s advancing age in mind, her well-managed chronic kidney disease, and her nervous and sensitive disposition, particularly to change, it would have been cruel to ask her to endure any kind of relocation, let alone to Denmark. From apparent stress, she once lost all the fur on her bottom half, making it appear as though she’d forgotten to put on her trousers, which was equally the most adorable and upsetting thing to see. She was just so beautifully sensitive. I wasn’t going to put her through any kind of upset, if at all possible. She would be more comfortable, secure, and safe within the walls and garden of her lifelong home, with my parents to look after her. Every day, I carried a sense of guilt that I had left her behind. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do. She was, and is, my one love, my light, my soul mate. There were nights where my fiancé had to rock me like a baby, as I sobbed desperately in his arms, over the distance I had created between Cleo and I. I just wanted to be with her, for her to be with me, for me to be with her. It broke my heart, every day. I would gaze lovingly at the framed photo I have of her, I would speak to her on FaceTime when contacting my parents, but it just wasn’t enough. I had seen her for three weeks in April, and for one week in the middle of August, and each time, it was increasingly impossible to leave her. Yet, leave I did. Last Tuesday, I received a FaceTime call from my Dad. It was odd that the call came through, considering my iPad was locked and set to 'do not disturb'. In some way, I feel like it was Cleo and our love that allowed the call to come through. Furthermore, the day before, I had heard a cat meow outside the doors to the flats. It wasn’t Cleo’s meow, but it was a meow. I looked outside, and there was nothing there. I wonder if, in some way, this, too, was a sign. The call was to carry the news I never wished or hoped to hear. The darkest day in my life had arrived. She was fading rapidly, she could no longer move the back half of her body, she could not and would not eat or drink, despite efforts to hydrate her using a syringe, she just could not do it. My heart broke irreparably in that very second. I am so grateful to my parents for including me as much as they physically could, for giving me the chance to say goodbye in the only way possible, given the circumstances. They warned me that she was to be taken to the vets, and that it was highly likely she would not come home, alive. I mustered up everything within me to whistle her favourite songs. She was always so responsive to whistling, and she was a Disney girl at heart. In the last couple of years, as her health changed, she took little interest in these songs. However, as I sat there, tears streaming, breath unsteady, I was able to give my rendition of 'Part of Your World'. She had been unresponsive for hours, and yet.. she was trying to lift up her head.. the twinkle of recognition palpable, despite her being near lifeless. My Dad couldn’t believe it. That moment means the absolute universe, to me. Next, I tried 'Colors of the Wind', but my sobs made it near impossible. It was the greatest joy to be able to give her that gift, and for her to know it was from me. I sent all my love to her, I spoke to her in loving, yet undeniably heartbroken, tones, I said everything I could think to say, all the verbal tokens of love that I had always said. But it just wasn’t enough. I asked my Dad to stroke her as I said them, to give her the kiss that I would have given, though I would not have been able to stop kissing her. I even tried to stroke the screen, as if she would feel my fingers on her skin. At one point, she was miraculously able to lift herself up to see the screen, and I have never seen anything like it, in my life. It absolutely shatters my whole existence. It is the most beautiful and heart wrenching thing, I have ever seen. That face.., she looked so different in that moment, I have never seen her look like that, before, those eyes... so large, so close to death, and so full of life and love. It’s too much. It’s too beautiful. Given the circumstances, and with eternal thanks to my parents, I did all that I could. But it wasn’t enough. I will never get to hear her, see her, smell her, hold her, kiss her, touch her, laugh with her, lie with her, whistle for her, feel her love and envelope her in mine, ever again.. . I couldn’t hold her paw, as my dad did for me, as she died, I couldn’t be there for the funeral. I will never be with her, again, not on earth, and it is breaking me. I am completely overcome with grief, and guilt. The guilt is corroding my heart, I have a constant physical pain. I feel as though I left her, abandoned her... that she must have hated me, she can’t have known why I wasn’t there. All she knows is that I wasn’t there when she needed me the most. I absolutely despise myself. I honestly feel like the worst human being who has ever lived. I should have never moved to Denmark, I should have waited until she had gone, because I knew she was old, and I knew she had an illness. I am disgusting. I keep begging her to forgive me, but I know I don’t deserve it. I keep saying sorry, I keep hoping she will show me, in some way, that she is okay. In the early hours of Monday morning, I felt a warmth between my legs as I lay cross-legged, and as I sat up, I felt as though I was able to pick up this warmth, and cradle it. I am almost convinced it was my mind trying to create some sort of comfort, but there is part of me that feels as though it was my Cleo, and just in case it was, I spoke to her. I said everything I wanted to say, and afterwards, I felt a coolness pass over my face. I noticed a shift in me, in that moment, which brought me some relief. But since then, I have completely relapsed into a suicidal state. I have panic attacks from the grief, and when I’m not crying, I just exist in a black hole of misery. I will never be able to forgive myself or live with myself for leaving my baby. It has been especially difficult, as my fiancé is currently working offshore, so I have had to experience this, alone. He has been amazing, through Skype calls, and he has written me the most beautiful words to try and help me see things in a different way. I couldn’t have asked for more support. My parents, who can sometimes be emotionally distant, have been wonderful, and have, obviously, been greatly touched by her death, also. I am doing as much research as I can, I have created online photo albums, made videos from the photos, I listen to her favourite song, I have gathered a few momentos to comfort myself as I try to sleep. Luckily, I have a blanket with me that she slept on, many times, which I have been holding at night. My fiancé made the suggestion that we hold a memorial when he is back, and find a lovely spot to place some memories. I am planning on framing more photos, and painting a picture of her, as I have in the past, and getting some items printed using photos of her, such as a cushion cover, and iPad case. Also, I am planning to crochet a little toy to represent her. When I spoke to Cleo for the last time, I made suggestions of items we could keep with her, such as a bib I had crocheted for her as a little joke, which she surprisingly enjoyed, a kitchen sponge, as she used to frequently 'murder' them, and call to let us know what a vicious killer she was, an Autumn leaf, as she used to mercilessly kill these, too. Some daisies, as we used to play and make chains with them, a tea bag, as she used to love finishing off a cup of tea using her paw, and other little knickknacks that speak of her personality, and our time together. I feel like all these things should add up to some way of coping, but I cannot cope. The guilt is killing me. I need to somehow atone for my disgraceful behaviour. I have begun looking at cat rescue centres. We are planning to move to a flat that allows pets, and, knowing that I will be able to give an adult cat with a hard life a home and the love it deserves, does help, somewhat. But my Cleo. I left her, and I never wanted to, I never intended to. Yet, I did. I truly am a monster, I don’t know how to live with this feeling. I would infinitely rather be with her than live without her. I apologise for the essay I’ve written.. I doubt many people will want to read it.. but for those of you that do, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, and wish you all the best on your own journeys to recovery after losing our best friends and soul mates.
  14. Many say that growing up is never easy. And I know that that statement is true. We all have traumas that trigger our inner angst and we all may believe that these traumas are the end-all of everything - that our traumas are terrible and that no one may understand. I'm no different and I've never talked to anyone about mine - but I think that taking the time and putting it out there could be a step in the right direction for me. And if any of y'all have any advice or pointers, please let me know! It's kinda long, so bear with my whining until I decide to get a therapist. I was the child of two very different parents. My mom was a self-proclaimed "goody two shoes" and a teenmom, daughter to a self-absorbed mother and alcoholic father. My dad was a "freebird," wild child son who was fleeing his dad's death. They met, fell in love, and he took care of her and her son. He doted on them when no one else would. But they started to have problems. My dad became an alcoholic and an abuser. My mom became a narcissist. My brother was always caught in between them. But that's when I came along. I was going to fix their problems by being that bright, sunshiney child of theirs. But I didn't fix anything and my dad kept drinking and getting worse everyday. He lost his job in the economic depression and started his own haphazard business. He threw finances to the wayside. Sometimes, he would be so depressed and beat me blue. My mom was diagnosed with bipolar disorder and started cheating on my dad. She let the family go. Not me though, she threatened me and made me test out her new beau as my dad sometimes. She said she would kill herself if I told my dad she was unfaithful. My brother had long since moved away - saying he'd never come back - and he held to his promise. So most of the time, it was just me and my drunk dad. We'd cook and watch movies together because some days weren't so bad. We'd laugh and he'd love me. But something happened.In the same year, we lost our house and we almost lost my dad. He sustained a cerebral hemorrhage and we lived in the icu for several months, watching him flux. But we made due, and things changed. My mom developed untimely health problems and left her secret beau. My dad underwent massive surgeries and my mom complained about only her ailments and what stress she was under. I ate hot pockets in hospital lobbies until I graduated high school. My brother was still gone. But it got better. My dad got better. My dad lost his short term memory and many motor skills, but he was there and he had changed for the good. He didn't drink and he was dependent on my mom to help him live. She was dependent on his paycheck. She still resented him for being stuck with him though - she told him that, she told me that. They still fought and disagreed, but not so much like before. We lived and I put myself through college and we were kind of a real family - though an angry man and narcissistic mother were still present. I hung out with my dad and we got along better than ever. My mom complained about him, about me, but she tried and accepted her new life. We were kinda happy though, the three of us. Fast forward to ten years later. It was Father's Day and my dad was diagnosed with stage IV cancer. Around that same time, my mom's health took another turn. While my dad was undergoing chemo - my mom was complaining of leg pain and making him give her insulin shots "cause he's the only one that can do it." But she helped him to chemo, I tried to act like it wasn't happening and being the doting daughter, and my brother came back a little more often to help some too. On the day my dad died, I felt it in my soul. I was going to leave work early and take him to chemo. We were going to have a daddy/daughter day and I was going to sneak him some sonic ice cream. I got the call and my boss told me he went into cardiac arrest. But I knew he was gone. I got to the hospital and my mom was already there. On the day my dad died, my mom called every single person she could think of to tell them the news. We didn't talk about my dad, we didn't hug. We were in the same room and I was taking care of her, but we were a million miles away. For hours, she was on the phone to aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, and coworkers and just crying. I sat on the couch alone next to her. I planned the funeral as my mom took up her spot and accepted everyone's condolences. No one lifted a finger to help but sure opened their mouths to say I wasn't doing something fast enough. My mom told our priest she was doing nothing with the planning and to ask her daughter for anything needed. No one in my family asked how I was handling anything, not even my mother. I cried by myself in my tiny apartment when every time I left my parents' house, which was full of strangers and no father. Now - its been a little over two months since my dad died. I know it's normal for spouses to mourn their loved ones and that it takes eons to recover. She cries all day and everyday. She barely does anything to take care of herself. She only recently started injecting her own insulin. She barely eats like she should and tells me it's because she's devastated. She refuses to take action on moving from the house where he lived and died and suffocates in her own grief. She tells everyone that will listen at the grocery store, her neighbors, friends about her grief everyday. She goes to grieving counseling and spent a week with my brother and his family. I visit quite often and call everyday. But we don't understand and will never understand because she lost her husband. It's more than a dad, more than a friend, more than a son, more than anything to her. I understand that. But. She fights with me when I ask her if she cares for herself or bring up anything at all. I never say "don't cry," but she always acts like I'm saying that when the words are actually "let's go get some Mexican food." She lashes out at me for being at work and not being able to answer my phone since my phone is in my desk. She calls once and voices that she's angry and that she can't tell me why she's crying right away. She says she wants to die. I love her but I need her and I need some help being a caregiver, because I feel like I suck. She's narcissistic, sure, but she has to be missing him greatly and they were together for forever. But I feel alone and against the world like many people do going through this and I just don't like it - especially with absent mother, absent family, absent friends and lover, and gone-forever father. I really miss my dad so much and I already don't know how to cope with his loss. But dealing with all of this seems so impossible - especially on top of dealing with a mother who wants to stay in her head and be unloving. Sometimes I feel like we'll be stuck like this. But I don't know what to do. But what do you do?
  15. Podcast idea

    Hey y'all. My name's Brad & I'm from Melbourne Australia. A few weeks ago I laid my beautiful Ridgeback x Kelpie to rest on a friend's property near her favourite river. I had the idea to start a new podcast, talking to and connecting with other like-minded folks who have lost their furry loved ones. Any thoughts? I have hosted a comedy / film podcast for about 18 months now, and already this idea in my head is more satisfying. I hope I can bring it to life, but am trying to get honest feedback on things you think may or may not work if I end up creating it. Thanks! Brad
  16. Any good websites re grief and loss

    Any ideas on good websites re survivors of suicide. I think I have been on most of them. I have even gotten through the tube videos on suicide survivor loss. Some of it was helpful,and a lot of the information was the same. Anything brand new that might have come out in the last 6 months or so. Getting bored with going to the same websites for information.
  17. New tonthe Forum

    Hello Everyone, I’m new to the forum. I lost both of my parents a day apart 2 weeks ago. It was Monday September 18. My son was eating breakfast and I was getting ready for work. My phone rang and I looked to see who it was. It was my aunt (my father’s older sister). I felt my stomach drop because it was unlike her to call so early unless something was urgent. I answered the phone and heard the fragility in her voice. My father had died earlier that morning. My world as I knew it had been shattered. We talked every singles day several times a day. That was my best friend. I’ll never forget the feeling I felt. That night I received a phone call thst my mother was actively dying in the nursing home she’d been living in for the past 5 days (in Utah)I called into the wee hours of the night to find out her status. In the morning I called to check on her again and was told she had the “death rattle.” I knew it wouldn’t be long until she passed. I asked the nurse to put the phone to her ear so i could speak woth her one final time. As we made our way to TN (where my father resided) later thst morning, the nursing home called to tell me my mother had died. Words can’t really give justice to my emotions. My mother was a drug addict and she died as a result of the disease. I don’t she ever realized how wonderful she was and that she deserved better. I know there is someone out there that can relate/understand what it’s like. If you’re out there, please talk to me. Today has been a rought day on this journey and i could use a companion. If you got this far in the post, thank you for reading. I pray we are all able to move forward.
  18. Big Brother Passes

    Hello, my name is Zain. I am 15. Three days ago I lost my brother. He was 19. For those of you who have watched the film Big Hero 6. My life up to now is much like that. We shared many common interests, I aspired to be like him and from what I have heard he looked up to me. He passed away leaving me lost and unsure. I'm still in that stage I believe and will be for a long time. I'm finding it difficult to cope and spend long amounts of time just sat in his room looking at all the stuff he loved and rembering all the things we used to do there when we were younger, I remember playing pokemon with him for hours on end while sat on his bed drinking apple juice and eating pancakes. I'm just sad that he passed so quickly, I never got to say good bye. I don't see how I can continue my life without the guidance of him, I saw him as an idol and an extremely inspirational figure. I think the hardest times are going to be Christmas, his birthdays and any holidays we have without him. Thank you for reading this, the reason I joined this forum is because I think sharing my experiences with people who are struggling the same will make me feel less alone in my struggle.
  19. I can't bring myself to go physically to a support group, so hopefully I can find some comfort here. . I lost my 5 year old daughter to stage 4 Wilms Tumor almost 4 months ago on May 25, 2017. She beat it once, so they said, though her remission only lasted the summer last year. We got diagnosed this time 2 years ago, the worst news I've ever heard. So out of the blue, as she had just started preschool and never seemed sick at all. Even through all the rounds of chemo, her counts being low, her platelets being almost nothing, she was always her lively happy self. She never complained when I had to give her shots in the leg many nights in a row just to boost her immune system after strong chemo. Right up until a month before she passed, she only took medicine for nausea. We took a Make-a-Wish trip in early April, which was supposed to be five days, and she got pneumonia after the first day. Sometimes I feel that if we didn't take that trip, I could have kept her longer. Everything went downhill after that. I have two boys, 7 and the other just turned 4, and they are the reason I can get out of bed. I try to be strong for my husband, but his grief is so different than mine. He drinks, and hardly ever talks about her. He'll mention that he misses her on his bad days, but I feel like I can't ever talk about her to anybody. I feel like I have to be the strong one, because everyone is going about their day and they don't need to see me bawling my eyes out. I haven't taken a shower without crying from start to finish since she passed. Anytime I'm alone, even if it's just a quick trip to the store, I cry. I scream out to God, why did he have to take they only thing I've ever wanted? Why did he have to take my only girl? She was all I've ever dreamed. Curly hair, loved everything girly and glittery and soft, and had the sassy mood to match. My mini me. My pretty girl. I can't even bake cookies without her. I can't make certain foods that we would make together, and I can't hear our girl songs on the radio. I feel like someone is sitting on my chest and I can't breathe. I thank God for letting her go in my arms, so peacefully, but I can't understand why. I fought so hard, I gave her every medicine they told me to, I researched clinical trials on my own, I took her out of town in hopes we can get stem cell transplant, but we were never able to. Her birthday is next month, and I'm already upset about it. The pain only gets worse. I miss my Mia. How do I live? I fear I'll never be happy again.
  20. Hey. I have always lived with my Degu since 8 years. He's been my best friend. Today I killed him by stepping on him while he was under my blanket. I will never forgive me as I have always known he did that. I am sure I have already bad karma for making me lose him as I always paid attention and knew until today. I loved him. I hope to get some kind of enlightment for my stupidity and ease my karma so to never kill any living being again. I feel like finding solace in the penance of hinduism where the act of killing is punished sometimes serverly. I am trying to find a therapist. For the sake of my mother I will try to at least sleep now, I always slept with my best friend. Nadine, 21
  21. Grief Counseling

    I watched my parents go through the loss of my older brother, Michael. He chose a life of serious drug use and was in an out of prison before he finally died in March of 2015. If you are a parent and having a hard time coping with the loss of your child, I can help. I know there is nothing that can take the pain away in your heart, but you can reclaim life again and find happiness. It may seem like a far stretch but with the higher power, all things are possible. You are supported in your journey. Sending you lots of love. XoXo, Julie
  22. Grief & Anxiety affecting my thoughts.

    My mother passed away from cancer 2 years ago in July 2015. It is July now and at the end of the month it will officially be the 2 year mark. I have been a mess all of July, even a few weeks before July came about, and it's been very hard for me to deal with. Along with dealing with my grief I also have anxiety, minor depression and some OCD tendencies. It is my own fault, but I don't think I have allowed myself enough time to grieve. I always have plans and I am always working and running around from one place to another. It is rare I ever put aside time for myself, I have been this way all my life. Approaching this month of July, for 2 weeks straight I had horrible knots in my stomach 24/7. This had never happened to me before and they would not go away. My throat also felt a lot tighter and it still does. Then, I started having all these negative thoughts floating about my head, a lot to do with my boyfriend, who I love very much and have been with for almost 3 years now. They were thoughts that I don't agree with at all, thoughts like "do you really love him?" "your stomach hurts because you don't want to be with him anymore" and stuff like that. I love my boyfriend so much - he has been nothing but a constant source of support and love for me, especially in this difficult time. I've also been 100% honest with him about these thoughts and what I've been feeling. I was just wondering if this has ever happened to anyone else and if so, what steps did you take to make it a bit easier? The last thing I want is to lose my boyfriend, and I truly don't think I will because he's been so understanding, but having these thoughts is so frustrating and upsetting to me. Part of me feels like I am just so emotionally bottled up and drained that I am feeling so many things and worrying about so much that I don't even know what to feel anymore. And of course, with it being July, I've been even more upset than usual. Anxiety and depression doesn't help, either. Any thoughts or input would be much appreciated - it's hard to feel strong and get through my everyday when I feel like I'm going crazy and questioning things I feel like I don't need to be questioning.
  23. My mother passed away from cancer 2 years ago in July 2015. It is July now and at the end of the month it will officially be the 2 year mark. I have been a mess all of July, even a few weeks before July came about, and it's been very hard for me to deal with. Along with dealing with my grief I also have anxiety, minor depression and some OCD tendencies. It is my own fault, but I don't think I have allowed myself enough time to grieve. I always have plans and I am always working and running around from one place to another. It is rare I ever put aside time for myself, I have been this way all my life. Approaching this month of July, for 2 weeks straight I had horrible knots in my stomach 24/7. This had never happened to me before and they would not go away. My throat also felt a lot tighter and it still does. Then, I started having all these negative thoughts floating about my head, a lot to do with my boyfriend, who I love very much and have been with for almost 3 years now. They were thoughts that I don't agree with at all, thoughts like "do you really love him?" "your stomach hurts because you don't want to be with him anymore" and stuff like that. I love my boyfriend so much - he has been nothing but a constant source of support and love for me, especially in this difficult time. I've also been 100% honest with him about these thoughts and what I've been feeling. I was just wondering if this has ever happened to anyone else and if so, what steps did you take to make it a bit easier? The last thing I want is to lose my boyfriend, and I truly don't think I will because he's been so understanding, but having these thoughts is so frustrating and upsetting to me. Part of me feels like I am just so emotionally bottled up and drained that I am feeling so many things and worrying about so much that I don't even know what to feel anymore. And of course, with it being July, I've been even more upset than usual. Anxiety and depression doesn't help, either. Any thoughts or input would be much appreciated - it's hard to feel strong and get through my everyday when I feel like I'm going crazy and questioning things I feel like I don't need to be questioning.
  24. Hey, I am a 21 soon to be 22 year old male from sweden, I will try to tell you all what has happened, I want to tell people and I think I need help. When I was 17, I was having a lot of emotional issues, felt like I didn't belong, did not have any friends in school, barely went there, was going through an identity crisis of sorts. At this time i registered on another forum for LGBT people. After about a week, I wrote to this person, a 19 year old from a town situated pretty close to mine. We talked for a while, we decided to meet in december of 2012, at his foster parents home. Discovered that we were very much alike, same height, interests, personality. We were both pretty introverted I guess, a little lonely. He was a classical musician, and aspired to be a teacher. He had his own Grand piano in his room, and he played some of his favorite compositions to me, and he tried to teach me some basic melodies. We spent the entire nights watching movies, talking, one of the movies I remember that we watched was a low budget version of "80 days around the world". I joked about that being our anniversary movie. But some things were still complicated, I was not ready to come out, things broke off between us and we didnt meet eachother. But after two years, I had matured and sorted myself out a bit. This was in december 2014 now, i was 19 and he just turned 22. But he had movies far away, he was now studying classical music at a school in the northern parts of sweden. But when we started talking again. We never stopped talking, every day from then on. I made the long train journey there, the school was beautifully situated near a big lake by the mountains. We decided to officially become partners there, one day almost three years ago. He surprised me soon after that, he sent me a picture of an acception letter from another school, that luckily was located where I lived, he wanted to move all the way down here to me. I even got to study at the school to, since I had some missing grades from earlier, we moved together, and for a year we went to the same school, taking the bus together. This was the best time of my life, being with him, I had no friends besides him, but that didnt bother me, i only needed him. People thought we were so alike they mistook us for siblings often, we lost count on how many times it happened. We spent so much time planning for the future, moving away, work, life in general. My boyfriend didnt live with his original parents, they were not suited for it, as they were addicts. But him and his brother were adopted by a very kind and supportive couple who became their parents. We wanted to have our own children too. We were engaged, we didnt surprise each other often, not so many romantic surprised and such. We were happy anyways. I showed him the engagement ring on the bus home from work last year. We got to work at the same place too. Never wanted to leave each other sides. I think i told him every day that i loved him and couldnt be without him by my side, he said the same to me. I finished school entirely on the 2th of june, he was working that day. We were finally free to move away, do what we felt like, start a new chapter in our lives. We had looked forward to this for two years. He told me not to worry about the two years we didnt meet, we were both young, that those two years were going to pale in comparison to our lifes together. We got to live together for just over 2 and a half Years. On sunday, june the 4th we were going to spend the entire day just resting. But at 7am he gets a call that his Co worker was sick, he was tired, i were too. He was going to have employment interviews tomorrow. I stepped in and took his shift, i regret this, now that i know this was our last day together. I came home in the after noon. He came down the stairs when i opened the door and hugged each other. He said that he had cleaned and taken care of a few arrends while i was away. I told him that that wasnt necessary, but he was energetic and happy. i was tired that evening, but it was calm and ordinary, we listened to music and played games, i showed him a song i heard on the radio by the Singer Anastacia, called "sick and tired" and "left outside alone" they were a bit nostalgic. But very ironic titles now when i think back, that it was among the last we listened to. At 12, we turned off the lights, i was more tired than him, having gone up early, usually he was asleep before me, but now now. I remember our last conversation was over me looking at the phone in the dark in bed, and he asked me what i was looking at. It was nothing unusual, i cant even recall the last thing i spoke to him. I had no idea that would be the last time i heard and felt him alive. The next thing i remember was my sister who lived with us then running up the stairs sounding very alarmed, she had heard something. I had not, but became worried quickly, we walked about a bit, but then i saw the bathroom door was locked. I asked him how he was feeling, there was no response, i felt this feeling sink into my gut. I unlocked the door and he laid on his back, pale and unresponsive, i screamed for help and my sister ran to me, i dragged him out and we started CPR. I put my mouth against his to blow air into him, while my sister compressed his chest. When i blew blood poured out, i can still taste it, that iron like sensation, i was covered in blood, i was in panic, the ambulance was on its way but didnt know what house it was, i ran outside in the rain screaming for them to come quicker. This all happened about an hour after i last spoke to him. They ran inside and took us into another room away from him, there were so many of them there, my dad worked at the fire departement and they were there assisting, but he was home sick that day. I was not mentalt present, i sat with a plastic bag asking what had happened, how it was going, but they didnt answer, we spent the entire night in the emergency, his family and mine. After about an hour of trying to bring him back, a doctor came and told him he had passed away. I was in complete disbelief and shock. They had tried everything, stimulating his heart and giving him 16 shots of adrenaline. Nothing had worked. My wonderful boyfriend, my reason to live, my only and best friend was gone in a night without warning. He was healthy, slim, we were both healthy. When I found him he had a wound on his nose and there was some blood in the toilet. I wished he would have said something, given me some sort of sign. Apparently his lungs had been filled with blood, the sounds my sister heard was him gasping for air. I am crying writing this, i couldnt be there for him during that horrible experience, he didnt deserve this, i wish i would have disappeared along with him. I want to meet him again. I dream almost every night about waking up and telling him about this nightmare ive had, but i cant. I am stuck in it, i miss him so much. I have lost my will to live, my boyfriend who i had known for 5 years and intent on being with eachother forever. I am only 21, he was only 24 and my life is over. I dont understand anything, he brought meaning to my life, before i had none. Now i am all alone. I live at my mothers house, constantly feeling absolutely horrible and in disbelief. I try to bargain and think of situations Where i could see him again or rescue him. My mind cant process the fact that he is not here. I remember the person i was with him, a month ago, just thinking about the future, our issues were so uninportant. I sleep all the time, thanks to medicine, but i cant go on without him. I think of ending my life all the time, i miss him so much. I cant go on. I love you Niklas, why did this happen? My smart, ambitious, cute, loving, kind, talented boyfriend. He wrote so much music and text, poems, he loved being creative. He was so innocent, he deserved a full life, not this. I miss him I look at the things he wrote and poems he saved up until his death.. one of the last he saved under a folder "not sorted but great poems" was one by Edgar Allan Poe, I relate to it a bit, I wish i could get him back, he had so much more to do, he was the last person you thought would die before his life even began, no bad habits at all. I cant go on like this, his funeral is this friday. We will play some of his favorite music on it. It feels so wrong, we were supposed to be enjoying summer. Now i sit here all alone, with no friends, no life worth living without him. Excuse my english, it is not my primary language. The poem he had saved was "a dream within a dream" "Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow — You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand — How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep — while I weep! O God! Can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?"
  25. It's been almost 3 months since I lost my mom. Everybody keeps telling me to be patient, to let time heal, but things are just getting worse for me. And I've tried to cope with it, but it just keeps coming back. I'm more a spiritual than religious type of person and I'm seeing a shaman. I've been working with her, it's better at times, but there are days when I just feel I can't go on. My mother was my best friend, my sister, my soulmate, my all. She was my rock, the person to which I turned to every time, the person who gave me strength, the only person to whom I gave all the love I was capable of. I found out that she had cancer in January, when it was already too late and I decided to not tell her immediately because I was afraid. She believed that once one gets cancer, there is no escape from dying and she was also a person who, once she had her mind set to something, that thing would happen. So I wanted to try to keep her in a positive mindset for as long as I could. It was the first time I lied to her sincer I was a kid. After a while, it got out, I told her a part of it and things started getting worse. Afterwards, I told her everything and in about 2 weeks, she died. I blame myself for taking this route but I don't know if I would have done it the other way around, I don't know if things would have been better if I would have told her from the start. But the most awful thing is that the last two months were filled with anger and a lot of disputes. Meaning exactly the opposite from how we were before. And this just kills me. I was trying to explain that all cancers have also emotional causes and that she should change, that she should think more about herself (my mom always thought about before thinking what's best for her), that she should try solving those issues. And she was asking me to be patient, because maybe we have time, and I was not because I was desperate and afraid and I knew that time mattered. And from this we always started to quarrel. I don't have regrets when it comes to my relationship with my mom, but I have a lot of regrets related to the last period spent with my mom. I could have just shut up and not try to tell her what I think she should do, I could have just renounced trying to change her. I had faith she would get better until the end, I was trying also in the few hours in which she was in a coma. Because I just couldn't stop. But I don't know how to live with myself knowing that the last months with my mom where how they where, that I didn't offer her the understanding and the support that she needed. Because I think that in the last period she wanted to be left alone, to die. My mom was always there for me, she knew how to cheer me up, she knew how to support me, she knew what to say to make it all better. She was always there when I needed her, when I was sick, she always made me better or knew what to do or where to take me to solve the problem. She always figured out a solution and I didn't when it came to her needing me. I couldn't save my mom and offer her what she needed, when it was my turn to do it. And I just don't know how I can get used to living with this. Does someone here have a piece of advice? Thank you and I really hope that somehow, each and every person here will find his or her peace.
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