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Found 17 results

  1. I have written a post here about a month and half ago, explaining my situation and how I feel about losing my mother. http://forums.grieving.com/index.php?/topic/11256-how-can-i-live-with-myself/ Now, I don't know what I feel and it scares me. I started living my life like before, even though nothing is like before, there's this sadness that hoovers over everything I do. I have moments when I cry, but they are lesser and moments when I laugh and maybe forget about it for a while. But it just doesn't seem right. Even though I express myself and let things out when they come, I fear that I'm moving on too fast and that I'm not healing. Sometimes I feel guilt because I laugh and forget, sometimes I know it's what mom would have wanted, sometimes it's really really hard and I feel it's getting harder. It's the first time in my life when I really don't know how I feel and what is happening. And I think that this is happening mainly because I don't really feel that she's gone, that she has left me. I know it's normal to feel lost, but it's not that. I feel like I'm moving on too easily and I don't know if that's the road I should be on. Has any of you experienced this? Thank you all of reading!
  2. It has almost been one year since I lost my brother. I wrote this almost two weeks after he passed and because of the unanswered questions and unresolved emotional issues it has since had a major impact on my relationships lately. Any advice??? I'm most worried about my marriage. I have to find out what to do with these repeated feelings. FYI I have never shared this before with anyone (this is even my first post here or anywhere) and this is just my raw feelings originally written to myself. Aug 2016 My brother died less than two weeks ago. I was in shock through all the arrangements and funeral. I couldn't seem to feel that it was real. I thought maybe picking out the casket would make it real, then it didn't. So then I thought writing the obituary would surely make it real, but it didn't. As if I had to keep myself busy in order to not lose myself right along with him. Then I thought that seeing him would definitely make it real. I went the night before the funeral, up to the funeral home to see him for the first time since the news and to make sure everything was "done to my satisfaction".... My satisfaction??, I thought. Did you revive him? Will he be able to sit up and tell me some crude joke to make me laugh and everything be ok? Of course not!!! So when seeing him didn't make it real either, I thought maybe his funeral and putting him in the ground might make me realize he is really gone. Well the morning came and the grieving family and friends came then they all left and still no reality. I cried that whole week during all of that but it was only when I would look at his pictures and think about the possibility of it being real, that my brother could actually really truly be dead. It was just the thought of it that made me sad though. It wasn't my reality yet. My family all went back home to try and figure out how to deal with it while picking back up with living their normal lives and then all the calls slowly stopped coming in. I was at my house alone, kids off to their first day at school, and my thoughts started to scramble. I was alone with my thoughts and nothing holding them back any longer. My heart started to melt. It felt like my entire soul got up, detached itself and walked away, leaving me sitting there lifeless for a second. It started to hit me!! HARD! My entire body wanted to scream out! Being in my own skin was uncomfortable. You always try to imagine what someone must feel like going through something like that. You imagine if you lose a sibling, what you might feel. Well my previous assumption was absolutely inaccurate! It's nothing like you think. This is an emotional experience I can honestly say I have never experienced anything close to before. No matter what memories pop into my head, I literally have to work my way up the chain of emotions to get to the better feeling ones. Sorrow, sadness, guilt, regret, rage, anger, frustration, until I finally get to peace, laughter and then love. Once I feel the love I have for him it makes me sad all over again! People would talk to me about " yea I lost my grandmother and we were close, I know how you feel". AaAHH!!! Wrong!! I lost my grandmother too! We were super close. She was like a mother to me. Definitely doesn't even compare!! She was an adult and I had been the grandchild. We didn't fight or argue or play tricks on each other for years. We didn't "get away with" things together growing up, we didn't get real with each other about how we felt at times and we definitely weren't together since both of us were infants! We didn't sleep in the next room from each other for 18-20 years and we didn't share parents siblings or the same childhood together. Me and my brother were close! He was 31, a year older than me. We had the same group of friends even. He was just always there! He WAS always there. How do I even deal? I can't even place a label on this type of emotion that I feel. I want to be able to just name it and someone honestly relate and know exactly what I am feeling! It's lonely. It's like trying to describe a color to a man who had been blind his entire life. You just can't do it! Until the person experiences it, they really don't know what you mean and even then people deal with things so differently! I'm afraid the way I feel is going to affect my marriage negatively. I mean my husband is great and so supportive but he doesn't understand what I'm going through and I think he kind of feels I should be getting over it by now, possibly. When really it's only just begun. I don't feel like I should talk about my brother to him how I really want to. I mean it's almost like even if I did, he doesn't know the emotion I'm feeling behind the things I have to say about my brother anyway. This is just hard. I tried to reach out to my family but that makes me feel more like the black sheep. It's like I'm not allowed to talk about him to anyone! Im the only one who handles emotions openly, better than bottling it up and suppressing it in order to feel normal again. My brother used to think of himself as the black sheep of the family. We had that in common, as contradictory as that sounds. I know that if I was going through this when he was here, I would have that conversation I need, that realization that I need, the laugh that I need and that part of my brother that I need right now. I can't help but question all of this. "Am I doing it right" "is it supposed to feel this way" "is this a normal level of grief" "why does it feel so uncomfortable" but most of all "is he really still here with me". All of these questions can't be answered to my satisfaction I don't think. I have been zoning out. I have always been particularly proud of how keen I was with my awareness. That has just gone away. Someone could be talking to me for 20 minutes before I realize that I haven't heard a single word they just said. That makes me only want to be alone. Have you ever had the urge to talk about something that was bothering you but not feel like talking at all, what so ever!!???? It's things like that, that make me so mixed up. It's like I just don't know anymore. I just don't know how to deal! I just had my first encounter with someone we grew up with that didn't know about my brothers death. It was too soon! I couldn't deal. I don't want to see anyone else who might ask me how he's doing. I have the urge and need to escape from this! I want to break free from the grasp it has on me. Then again even that feels wrong. I need an answer but not sure what the right question is. How can I go about determining something like that? What do I do??? ... so here it is over 11 months later and all this time I have felt pushed into bottling it up because I had no where else to place it. The bottle has finally filled up and now it's over flowing into my life and overwhelming me. I knew me and this bottle have never seen eye to eye. I found some letters that my brother wrote me a couple months after it happened. It helped a little because he wrote them about my grandmothers death and really what he had to say about death was extremely helpful. I guess now I'm still trying to face that it's real and irreversible. It's not being able to have that two way conversation with him, that I need so bad, that's making this the hardest!! I'm still not sure anything anyone could say or do would make this stop but I guess the reason for my post is to air out these emotions and possibly see that I am understood. Yes! I think being understood would be a great start!!
  3. I never imagined to be typing words on a grieving support group site today... July 27, 2017, A day I will never forget. The day I lost my mother to death. You know what pains me the most? The fact that she died alone in our room. I am an only child, 27 years of age and my father passed away on October 20, 1989. I was born on October 15, 1989, therefore I was only a mere 5 day old infant when I lost him to death. Basically, my whole life is just my Mama and I. She took care of me, educated me, fed me, gave me EVERYTHING, did EVERYTHING. She sacrificed 27 years of her life for me. I saw the moments of hardships, pains, and disappointments she endured just to give me a life that is comfortable. We would always go to bed at night and watch music videos of my favorite artists, or watch her favorite movies. We would laugh and cry together while watching, haha. Days before she died, she told me she was not feeling well. We were eating then and after she finished her meal, she suddenly felt not too good. She lied down on the bed and rested. For the first time, we didn't watch any videos because she rested instead. I was worried, but not too much as I thought it was a simple flu. I gave her meds when she woke up, even talked to her. She said she is going to be fine anyway so no need to get so worked up. Next day, I went to work. I couldn't leave her because it felt like my feet were too heavy. She said she was fine and just needed a cold glass of water, which I gave her. She told me "Go, or you'll be late", and I did go. That was the biggest regret of my life. If onlys and what ifs filled my existence now. If only i didn't leave, If only I had taken the initiative to call a doctor, if only I called an ambulance, If only I was by her side before she took her last breath. I was worried the whole day at work. It's like something is bothering me for some odd reason. I decided to take an early out at work. I needed to go home that's what I thought. I passed by a vendor who sells banana cue (it's a popular snack in the Philippines, it's basically sweetened bananas on a stick), it was her favorite snack and figured she will be happy if I buy three sticks of it for her. I went home and it's like time suddenly became so slow. I unlocked the door and I saw what will be the biggest nightmare in my life. I...saw my mother, leaning on the side of the bed, frozen and not breathing. I literally just looked at her. I did not know what to do. After a minute or two, panic sets in and I saw my hands shaking while dialing the numbers on my mobile phone. My phone even froze on me and I screamed the biggest curse I have ever said in my entire life. Minutes after, Medics came in, saying no heartbeat and no pulse. Nothing. She might have died at around 9AM. I saw her at 4:24 PM. Upon hearing what the medics said, I shook her, I poured water on her face, I slap her, I beat her chest, EVERYTHING out of desperation. I then broke down and cried. The reality slowly creeping on me that YES, she is gone, Christine. Our lives together suddenly flashed in front of me. I couldn't even grieve properly because I have to process her death certificate and cremation permit file the next day. Who would have thought I would process that damn death certificate?! I was angry and bitter. It felt unfair. She, at the age of 54, died of a heart attack. That's what the coroner said. Up until this day, my head is still swimming around that day when I found her body. I still work, eat, take a bath, doing what Humans normally do but it all felt pointless now. Waking up everyday is a pain. The only motivation I have is that I know my mother wouldn't want me to waste my life away. She suffered 27 years and for me to just throw that all away is like being an ungrateful child. The least I can do to her is show her that her sacrifices didn't end up to nothing. I guess this void in my heart will always be in here now no matter what. I'd be happy one minute, but sad the next. I know time will heal me, but I also know it wouldn't heal me completely.
  4. Couple of questions, is being jealous of another person because they have both parents? Is this something I should be worried about, and also June 25 of this year will be a year that my mother will be gone, I feel like it was just yesterday that it happened. I'm trying to heal, but I feel so lost sometimes. What should I do
  5. Hi everyone. I am now 32 years old, my mother passed away when I was 13 she was only 40. I listened to people say how that was a young age not knowing myself how young it really was. For the 20 years I have both unconsciously / consciously making decisions that are, well needless to say weren't very good one's. I wrote this when I was feeling extremely lost and alone. I hope it helps in some way. - Life she can be a cruel mistress, she takes just as easily as she gives. We live we die, but all that in between and all that we try that is the gift in disguise. The darkness is where we go. This is where we are safe, this is what we know, we find comfort in knowing the enemy, This is our solice, darkness is my friend, Where we are alone, no one to disturb our fears and insecurities. No one to tell us what is right from wrong. Our drug of choice is our confidant it numbs the pain it distorts our memories, it takes us to somewhere else, anywhere else. We carry things for so long that eventually forget what it is like to let go of ourselves and shine. We live in the pain because - that of course is what we deserve, we reject all that reminds us that there my be hope, a glimmer of light THAT, frightens us. That is not meant for us, we are alone, we wallow in guilt and shame, we mask our sadness with jester like humor making sure no one else will ever fell like this. All of the choices we make all of the steps that we take - another step closer to the end, after all isn't that the present? When does it stop? Does it get better? Why did I do this? Why me? Question after question. Here's one, why do I do this to myself? Is it what they would've wanted? Another. Does my suffering offer anything to those that we suffer for? Selfishness, is that what she would have wanted? I push and I shove just to feel alive to have some sort of meaning - we drift, we observe just to see how the rest of the world carries on, I analyse the world take it apart just to find why it keeps spinning, why it just won't stop. Take one step towards the light and ten steps back, I am afraid, I do not belong there no one will understand, they will all judge they will reject me. I do not need help, I am comfortable here with my self pity and guilt. I am alone in my prison that is my mind, only a "select few" may enter my world bringing their lights and their candles along with them as they enter. Not for too long though, too long and it is time for them to leave. Leave me in peace, they couldn't possibly handle what I have to offer, being in the dark would destroy them, they are not strong like me OR is it weak like me? The difference eludes me. It has been an eternity, it should be over now? Surely? I should be successful. I should have everything I need (who I need) I should be a fully functioning pillar of society. I should be this, act this way. No. I am lost. I know now I am not alone, I am not the only one to suffer, everyone is suffering in one way or another.. No now I am now inspired, those "select few" we chose to enter our domain. They have left a breadcrumb burning trail from their torches, They are waiting for me. I will escape my safe haven/prison. I will say it was for others but it will really be for me and that is okay. With my strength growing and my fears overcome. I will be a light for someone else, such as those who have helped me. . . I thank you whole heartedly. I will live through you. And she will live on through me" I asked a friend - "does it get ever go away?" His reply - " it never goes away my friend" Take solace in knowing you are not alone. We are survivors - let go [ just a little bit ] Move forward, the world does not stop, so keep up be a beacon for someone else.
  6. Hi, My life cut short is as follows. I am 26 years of age and my Nanna was my world. She raised me from being little but unfortunately in 2011 she went from the person allowing everyone to lean on her to a person that needed someone to lean on. She suffered 2 strokes and had to be placed in a care home as I could not meet her needs at home whilst working and going to university. I was still a very active part of her life visiting her regularly, taking her to every hospital appointment, taking her on days out, paying her personal expenses ect. She would usually get seriously ill around winter time with conditions such as pneumonia and I would cry all day and cry myself to sleep every night for weeks if she was hospitalised, i'd take time off work to just sit with her in the hospital from morning until night even if she wouldn't be awake, I just did not want to be without her and feared her leaving me forever. On 2/4/17 my life changed forever. I received the phone call that I will never be able to erase from my mind, my Nanna had sadly passed away in her sleep in the early hours of the morning. I couldn't breath travelling to the care home assuring myself that someone had made a mistake and it was not my Nan who had been perfectly fine since Dec 16 but I opened her door and there she was in bed, perfectly still, eyes and mouth wide open. Unfortunately thats just where the torture for me begins. I had to wait with my Nanna for 6 hours whilst the out of hours doctors can out to see her and certify her as deceased, then a further 2 hours for the police to come and take statements as her death is classed as sudden/suspicious and then an added 1.5 hours for the coroner to come and take her away. I could not leave her on her own in this time, all i could do was get in bed with her and cry whilst over time i watched the signs of her death show in her physical state. I was a complete mess for the first two days as you can expect but I am deeply upset now as I found from day 3 onwards that I can carry out every day tasks such as cleaning, cooking, watching a little tv, i have even had a genuine laugh and smile. I have cried very little since the first two days and I simply do not understand why. Why am I not crying for my best friend and person I loved most in the world? I cried alot more for her when she was alive! I started funeral arrangements the very next day trying to keep distracted as much as possible, I can not stay in the house all day because then I begin to think of her and then I get upset so i quickly put my mind else where or go out for walks. I am looking for peace anywhere I can and have found myself going to church looking for comfort and signs that she is ok or waiting for the moment where so many people claim their loved one comes back to them at the end of the bed or in a dream but I am receiving little comfort from either at the moment. She is having to have a post mortem done and thoughts like " that will mean that she really is dead" come into my head or when I was discussing embalming with the director i thought "they can't take all her blood". Have I actually acknowledged to myself that she's dead? I feel the loss of her but only when I allow myself to think about it which is not often. My main question is 'Why am I not crying for her?" I am a very emotional person and will often cry but why not now. Has anyone ever had a grieving experience like mine? Thanks
  7. 72 Days

    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.
  8. 45 Days

    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.
  9. lost without him

    In May of 2015 I lost the love of my life, my partner of 24 years. We'd spent our entire adult lives together and then one morning he sat on the edge of the bed, slumped forward, and was dead. Sudden cardiac death at 44. I know nothing can prepare you for the loss of a partner but damn I was totally shocked. In the days immediately after I entertained thoughts of suicide nut could only think how my death would hurt him. I'm tired of hearing things will get better with time. The pain doesn't lessen, it's not as constant but the enormity of the loss doesn't go away--I never expected to be 42 and alone. It's been more than a year and still at some point everyday something reminds me of him and I break into tears. The successes I have had in the past year just feel hollow, as I feel hollow. My therapist thinks it's time I move on and consider dating and it just infuriates me, like society allows a year for mourning and beyond that is socially unacceptable and uncomfortable for those around you. I am in no condition to consider the idea right now, yet I am lonely beyond words. We also weren't married and I agree that somehow to others it lessens the depth of your loss, like those 24 years would have meant more, been more legitimate somehow. Friends and family keep telling me they dream of him or they feel his presence and for me there is just a void, an emptiness that is no longer filled by him. I really don't know where to turn anymore, i'm just so empty. I'm not sure what I am looking for here, I guess maybe a recognition of some kind, a way to climb out of this sorrow.
  10. I will never be the same . . . as I was before. In some ways, I see life as a puzzle, every experience you have forms a piece of your unique puzzle. When combined, they form the entire picture of your life. My Dad took a piece of my puzzle with him, a piece that will never return. I am incomplete without it, without him. When someone you love dies, that part of you dies as well. I will never be the same again. My view of the world also changed. Life seemed to go on forever and I never thought about death, now I can’t get death out of my head. I lost my parent, my only dad, I think a lot about death and dying. I still have plenty of questions, but nobody to answer them. And they certainly weren't fun questions. I learned the importance of telling people that you love them. Don’t ever let them wonder how you feel. Of all the things I regret, missing the chance to say “I love you” and “THANK YOU”. Because I never told him as I thought men don't share feeling and never say things like that. One of the hardest things about losing my dad is feeling that nobody understands. Even worse is feeling different and seeing things differently things just seem black and White and there is no colour in anything, I have three lovely kids and a wife a big lovely home but everything seems empty and pointless every day. It hurts, it’s lonely, and there are some days you’d do almost anything to be the same . . . as you were. I have realized that there is no promise of tomorrow. You are given such a small time, and you never know when your time will run out. The feeling of emptiness in my guts is getting bigger and bigger. My wife keeps on telling me to snap out of it you need to get over this, I really wish it was that bloody easy. I don't know what to do. I feel like the past months have been a mess of every emotion possible. I’m a great big ball of pain, and it seems as though grief is the one thing no one will talk about with me. For me my dad was the parent who showed up for me, who supported me, never looked down on me, always had hope for me, he was that one person I trusted, he made me feel like I can do anything. He was my like my back bone I could never fall because he was there. I never really got along with my mother I don't know why to be honest so my mother never really talked about my feeling only concerned about herself and what she is going through and most importantly my younger brother and how is he dealing with the grief, my mother always rings and cries to me saying she worried about my brother he was really close to your dad. Looking at it now it seems like he could not do anything wrong and I can’t do anything right. Rather than my mother worrying about me she consistently blames me for my dad's death as my mother says to me I cause to much stress for him because I moved overseas and also I drink alcohol (we come from a non-drinking family) and you always needed money and even said “I only loved my dad for his money”. What she doesn’t know is how much stress she caused him and when we were cleaning his stuff out of my mums house I found a 10 page letter hand written by dad explaining what my mother did to him and how she upset him and ill-treated his parents and always talk down to him and it even said in the letter how my mother wasted so much money on gambling and also explaining details of a possible affair she might have had. I advise my brother I found this and he told me to rip it up and throw it away and no one can ever see this. So I kept it and have decided not share this with anyone including my mother because I don’t want her to be upset. My mother even told me lies about what my dad said about me. My mother for about 2 weeks called me an alcoholic and a drug addict and told me she shamed to be related to me, I got so pissed off I took a drug test and sent her the results and she wasn’t even sorry. I think the worst thing was when she told me about the time she got hurt when she was pregnant with me and the comment she made was "You should have died" said she regrets having me as a son. Reading this you would think that this women is not educated or drug addict even possibly mental insane, but guess what she is a doctor and holds a PhD. So on top of losing a parent that loved me I get the parent that hates me and makes me feel like a failure and always thinks I can’t financially support myself and my family because Dad use to help a lot with money because he told me he knows how hard it is having mortgage and 3 kids and if he can help take some of the stress away by giving me money to pay bills why wouldn’t he. The biggest thing also knew he was always there through bad times and good times. Now I have no one, and have to live in shame from my own family. Am I meant to toughen up and get over it, how I get over this feeling. The grief is consuming me for last few weeks and I hide everything inside me. Yes, I AM SAD. I lost my only loving Father & I have these great memories that I can't even share out loud! My life has spiralled downward since my Dad passed away due to my own doing, I felt like being close to my mother and brother so I flew back home about 5 or 6 times over a 5 month period and in result of doing that I left my business with 2 staff members who screwed it up and I had to close the business down. Couple of weeks before my dad died we found out that my wife had cancer. I cannot see the light anymore, I feel sad all the time, I can’t sleep, I don’t eat and have lost 11 kegs. I am getting withdrawn from my kids. I have been unemployed for 3 days now still here and think what the F*** to do now. I am running out of money, I have to pay the mortgage and I cant get my head out of this ****.
  11. Helpful Websites and/or Books

    I was thinking earlier today that I wanted to start a conversation on here about websites and/or blogs that anyone else has found helpful? I use my personal blog as kind of a journal for myself, and hope that other grieving mama's find it helpful in some way, does anyone else have a blog? If not I highly recommend starting one, it's a great way to share your story and is really a great outlet for when your mind gets going at warp speed and you just need to let it out. I've also found other websites, this one included that have been helpful. Another one is stillstandingmag.com and there's also a group on Facebook for bereaved mothers (and also named "Bereaved Mothers.") A couple other Facebook pages that I spend a large chunk of time on are "Grief the Unspoken" (https://www.facebook.com/grieftheunspoken) and "Angie Cartwright," (https://www.facebook.com/AngieCartwrightGrief) Angie is actually amazing if you read her posts and her blog, very insightful, she's holding a live event in December called "Freedom to Grieve.: I highly recommend her page also. Does anyone else have any websites or books that they have found helpful? Oh, and speaking of books, I read Heaven Is For Real the day after Khyri's funeral and it is honestly the only thing that got me through the few days right after the funeral, an amazing read, renewed the faith in God that I thought I had completely lost...I still struggle with it some days, since I still don't have answers and I don't understand why my baby was taken from me, but that book brought me back from giving up on God completely.
  12. There are no words... to desribe how I feel inside.. I feel strange posting here.. that I will be judged for doing so.. Sorry in advance.. My story is this: When my mom had me, I had a twin, but he died in her stomach at 6 months old. This was the first time my heart was broken... Over the course of the years... I have lost two aunts, a grandma who I was close to, cousins and other family members.. I am only 25 years old. I do not know what to say.. I guess just speak from the heart.. On top of these people that passed away.. Most of my family I do not talk to, as they do not want anything to do with me.. which hurts a lot..the reasons are because a lot of them are on drugs, a lot of them do not care or my mom has tricked them into never wanting to talk to me... I am in tears saying this... how much it truly hurts inside... I feel like crap... I have had to go through this life... with so much pain and loss... I have lost so much family and friends... so many of my friends have died...in horrible ways... some left me... and betrayed me...when my birthday came around.. this year most of my family did not even care.. I did not get a text or phone call..even though I was there for my siblings on their birthdays..My whole life has been pain and suffering... it still is, even though its more stable.. I hurt inside deeply... I feel as if there is a deep hole in my heart.. I crave more than anything else in the world... to find someone who can love me for me.. to love me the way my parents never did..or my family... I am jealous of my friends... of people I see walking on the street... around.. they have no idea... no idea what it feels like.. to be alone.. to know your family does not care if you are alive or dead... Recently I talked with my baby sister... and it went bad.. My mom had twisted her mind so much.. to where she does not care anymore... about me.. I still care for her.. I honestly.. ask why myself sometimes why I keep on living...I think a lot has to do with the good friends I meet.. I sometimes wish I was never born.. never brought into this world... I feel like job in the bible... losing everything... which I have... I still cry at night... I remember when my family rejected me.. completely... I cried for years every night... I still hurt inside.. I feel so empty... I put a face on everyday that I am fine.. but inside I am not... I do not feel okay... I feel broken...the big part of my life.. that kept me going was I believed there was a god and there was a plan for all of the pain I went through.. but how could god make someone suffer like this? How could he make someone lose their whole family and friends and so much more...On top of all this.. I was abused growing up... I was abused in everyway you can imagine... sexually, mentally, verbally, physically, it was a living hell for me.. my mom abused me sexually a lot when I was growing up.. so did one of my brothers.. my mom and her boyfriends would beat me up everyday... treated me as her slave.. and clean up the house everyday...if I didn't I didn't eat that day. She would make me stand outside in the cold in shorts with no shirt when it was 20 degrees or colder for hours to punish me. She beat me with a broomstick and broke one over my head, her boyfriends would beat with electrical cords and I had gashes on my back from it and still have the scars, she split open my head a lot of times with different objects... it goes on and on.. My mom would put me down everyday.. tell me how much she hated me, how I was her slave, how worthless I was, how useless I was... she and her boyfriends would play mind games with me... it went on and on.. I am not sure if I can post all of this here.. I am sorry if I went against the rules.. this is my story of loss... pain... suffering. Please help..because I am not strong.. I am weak... I feel like I will never be happy... I feel like I need to share this... if there is a chance I could ever feel even a hint of happiness.. in my life...
  13. I just lost my daddy very unexpectedly a little over a month ago. He went in for what was supposed to be an easy, routine surgery and he didn't make it. The operation was supposed to only be for one leg because of his age and overall health. But the doctor changed his mind and decided to do both legs at the same time. They kept him under for 4 hours and then the ending gets cloudy. The doctors came and told us he didn't make it but coming up with why was where it got clouded. The best answer they could come up with was that he had a heart attack at the very end they "think." They "think" were the doctors direct words. And they proceeded to tell us that's what they think happen. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is my dad on the hospital bed. He looked like he was in so much pain. I can still remember the way his cold hand felt. If I don't get that vision I see him in his casket. I see our final goodbye... Having to leave him there. I just want this to be a bad dream and I want to wake up. I feel so angry... Angry at the hospital... Angry at the doctors for taking away my daddy. I don't know how to life without him. I still call his phone, expecting him to answer. I've never felt real pain until I lost my dad. I'm so lost without him. I can't figure out how to move on with my life no that he's not there. He was supposed to walk me down the isle, see his grandchildren from me... All of that was ripped away from me :'(
  14. I can remember the day I found out I was pregnant clearly. I thought I had been for awhile but didn't think it could be possible I can remember thinking no I wouldn't be that lucky. Then I decided to do a test it said I was pregnant but just to be sure I thought I'd do another five tests all of them said I was preganant. I was gob-smacked I stared down at those two pink lines in disbelief I had to ask my partner if I was seeing things and he said no honey they are there those two little pink lines are there your pregnant!. Hearing those words was like music to my ears I was overwelmed. Everything was going so well I hardly no problems with the pregnancy what so ever I didn't even have morning sickness I was only sick a couple of times when the baby didn't like something. Which is why me going into labour so early was such a shock. I was 23 weeks roughly I remember I was concerned about the leaking I was experiencing. So on my break at work I called my midwife team told them all about it and my concerns. It was like someone had punched me in the chest and winded me when the midwife said " I don't want you to panic but you do have to phone your nearest hospital's labour ward and get down there immediatly you could be in early labour". I was panicking I didn't know what to do so while the people I worked with tried to calm me down my boss phoned my partner to get him to come and take me to the nearest hospital's labour ward. So as soon as he came we went to the hospital booked into the labour ward explained what was wrong and waited in the waiting room. The wait was agonising I wanted them to hurry up I want them to tell me if there was anything wrong or not was I to expect the worse or was everything ok. With a billion and one thoughts running through my head they called us in. They ran some checks I was okay my blood preasure and everything was okay so was the baby's heartbeat. It was until the did a scan that they realised the membrains or something were outside of the womb I'm a 100% sure what they ment but by the way they were talking I knew it was bad. So they admitted me to the labour ward had my bed on a angle with my feet pointing up, my head pointing down in hope to get the membrains back in the womb naturally without force because they didn't want to break my waters when it wasn't time for them to go. They were hoping to only keep me in for alittle while but after discussing the situation with many different doctors in the end they decided to keep me. I was on bed rest and given an injection in my leg to strengthen the baby's lungs should the worst happen. And I was due have the same injection the next day. But on July 4th 2013 at around 11 or 11:30 am after coughing my waters broke. I won't lie I panicked big time didn't know what to do. I was alone my partner was on his way up with clothes for me anyway but I phoned him to inform him what was going on. The nurses said no to panick too much perhaps they have broken but I'm not in labour. Oh how much I wished that to be true but something told me that the worst was going to happen. I was having uncomfortable stomach cramps which were obviously contractions but I partly didn't want to believe that they were. I was scared I was alone I have the nurses but not my partner he was on his way. Oh how I wish he would hurry up but right then the nurses came in to check on me did what they had to do to see how dilated I was. The baby's started to enter the birth canal they said there's nothing we can do to stop it your in labour now. What!? I'm not ment to it's too early I remember saying .They told me to push when I was supposed to push, I can't my partner isn't here yet is there anyway we can delay it till he's here I remember asking. But they said there wasn't anytime they couldn't do anything. So I did as I was told and I pushed it hurt like crazy but I had to push. I pushed 3 times and nothing then on the 4th push she came out a beautiful baby girl. She cried when she came out the nurses were gob-smacked they weren't expected her to be alive when she came out I suppose. They called a bunch of doctors to come a reaccess the situation. They should there watching I felt like I was on trial for something. The decision for whether or not they should put my daughter on the machines was in their hands. I held my breath wanting to scream, shout anything to make them listen to tell them to help her. But they simply shoke their heads and walked out of the room to carry on with their day. I want to scream to shout to hit them but I was in shock tired angry, upset. Then this little bundle was handed to me by a nurse who then said she was sorry she wished there was more she could do. A lot was said by the nurses but what they said became mumbles I wasn't paying attenion I was busy looking at my beautiful baby girl, Nevaeh-Marie. I decided to ignore the fact I was angry I didn't want her last memory of me to be someone who was shouting and making a fuss. I knew I didn't have long with her so I wanted to use that time wisely. I remember saying quietly and calmly it's okay mummy's here it's okay your safe. She trying hard to keep breathing love her, her little cheast was going up and down trying to breathing as much she could. She seemed scared very scared her head moving about frantically probably wondering where she was but as soon as I spoke she seemed more relaxed. And even know her eyes weren't open when she calmed down she moved her head towards me as though she was looking up at me. That's right mummy's here its alright as soon as I said that her tiny hands wrapped round my little finger as though she was saying I know your there mummy. Daddy will be here soon if you could just hang on he'll be here and just as I said that she moved her head as if she was looking round the room for him. Then her head moved back towards me her little hand not letting go of my little finger once. I felt as though we were frozen in that moment just then as she lay there looking up at me even though her eyes weren't able to open. Then all of a sudden that moment seemed to be shattered when her breathing seemed to slow right down. This can't be happening I kept repeating in my head not my little girl. I froze I had never felt so powerless so unable to do something in my entire life. This had to be some horrible nightmare I was in surely I was going to wake up soon and everything would be ok. I could not have been more wrong she was gone, my beautiful angel Nevaeh-Marie was gone. I couldn't stop the tears from flooding my face I'm not usually one to cry infront of people but that day I didn't care my baby was gone and the floods of tears were never ending. My partner was on his way but didn't know I had given birth the nurses asked if I wanted them to notify family but I wanted to do it. I couldn't bring myself to tell my partner myself so I phoned his mother and asked if she would tell him. She always passed on bad news really well to him when told about things like that by his mother he didn't freak out or lash out but when told by someone else he would I couldn't chance that. Shortly after he arrived at the hospital the nurse opened the door to him and floods of tears came over me like a waterfall I couldn't stop apologising to him even though he couldn't understand why I was apologising. For awhile we just laid there the three of us hugging. The nurse took pictures for us to remember her by. My dad then came to the hospital my partner had rung him while he was at work love him he came straight from work to be at the hospital for us. That day was the first day I had seen my dad cry he kept repeating how sorry he was and hugging me holding me tight. Then a few more of the family members from my dad's side came that day was the first day I had seen my brother cry too. That day was beautiful as well as horrible beautiful as we were blessed with beautiful baby girl. And horrible because she was taken away from us. I haven't been right since christmas isn't that far away now and I have never disliked this time of year so much before. This would have been her first christmas with her family it still will be but not the way we would like to be like. Each day brings new challenges some days are easier than others and some are harder than others. I'm finding it harder and harder to keep smiling or even to smile at all
  15. 9/27/13 at around 5 pm I lost my mom. She had her gallbladder removed Tuesday, and I had been taking care of her since then. She was fine and lucid and could do a lot of things on Wednesday, so I thought she would recover quickly as she did tend to do. But a lot of friends and family members told me it would be worse on the third day so I thought I was prepared. The doctor told me to get her up every 2 hours for a small walk. But Thursday I couldn't get her to move. It seemed like she was just tired and had maybe had too much medicine so I cut back on her medicine because she said she wasn't hurting. Thinking it would get out of her system and clear her head. So I let her sit all day. Friday I KNEW she needed to get up. She needed a shower and she needed to change clothes. After about an hour of me and one of her friends trying to get her up she finally got up. I sat her on the shower chair and bathed her and when we were done she leaned against her bed like she wanted to rest, but then she fell backwards and started throwing up brown stuff. I called an ambulance but they didn't get there in time. I don't know what to do. I'll be 20 in December and I'm so confused and so angry. She was the only parent I've ever had. She adopted me as a single parent when I was two months old and she was forty two. I've lost my grandparents and uncle within the last five years, and I thought it would be fine as long as I had my mom, but now I feel so lost.
  16. Hi everyone. I just found this forum and joined because I read some other posts that sound the same way I am feeling. I guess I will begin by telling you about my dad's story. It is hard to relive it by writing this, but I wanted to share it with anyone who would like to hear it. My dad (Denny) had been battling with end-stage liver disease for over eleven years. Since the transplant list in Colorado was very long and slow moving, my dad was referred to Piedmont Hospital in Atlanta, Georgia. As my dad got sicker and sicker, his score still remained the same. We knew he needed a new liver asap. It was very hard to watch my dad suffer so much. My dad has always had a positive outlook on life, even through all the pain and suffering. He would never complain about his illness. My dad enjoyed helping out others. He would collect canned food and donations outside for those less fortunate. He also would insist on having his grandchildren over to play all day long even on his worst days. He would never miss an ice skating lesson either. My dad never let any of these obstacles get the best of him. He remained happy and positive throughout the many years of suffering. He is and will always be my hero! Finally in June of 2011 he was #1 on the transplant list, he was in the best shape physically and mentally. While in Atlanta my dad became seriously ill after taking a bad fall the day before his scheduled surgery. He was hospitalized and deactivated from the transplant list and sent back to Colorado to heal. We didn't think he would get called again for the transplant, but The transplant team called my dad on Friday February 18th 2012 and was told he was #1 again and to be in Atlanta by Tuesday the 21st of February 2012. Our family was happy, nervous, shocked. We new this was it! My dad was going to come home with a new liver! On February 27th, a donor gave my dad the gift of life. He recieved a new liver. The next day, he was like a new man. It was truly AMAZING! He was talking and he looked great. Then, about 3 days later something went wrong. The bile duct came apart and he had to have it rebuilt in a 2nd surgery. He then had trouble getting the bleeding to stop. He has been in ICU for 3 days and til the doctors saw an improvement. We were all shocked that this was happening. My mom, brother and I stayed at the hospital for hours and hours and days. Just when we thought he was improving, the doctors found internal bleeding and had to try and stop it so they performed a 3rd surgery and he was back in ICU again. We thought for sure there could be no more complications at that point. But yes, there were. He was rushed into the OR for a 4th surgery. The doctors found internal bleeding again and were able to stop it. After that last surgery his vitals were all very good and in very stable condition. He was so extremely weak. My dad's blood levels were going up, his toxicity going down. Moving from the bed to the chair and back to the bed multiple times a day to start building strength back. His color was coming back. All the doctors were amazed that he had made it. They called him "The marathon man" After months of physical therapy, we were on our way back home to Colorado. It was the happiest time for our family and friends. Unfortunatley the happiness would not last very long . My dad continued his rehab and he was working out at the gym every day. He had a couple rough days, but overall he was well on his way to a normal life. His immune system was low because of all the medications he had to take daily for life. While at the gym he banged his leg on a piece of equiptment. He started having multiple complications for a few months after banging his leg. It appeared he had some horrible reactions to the antibiotics needed to heal his wounded leg. It got to a point where even the doctors were baffled as to why he was getting so sick making it hard for them to help him. To make a long story short, my mom and I got a phone call on Christmas Eve. The woman on the phone said to me, “Your father is dying." I was in shock!! We called the ambulance and had him admitted into The University of Colorado Hospital. While in the ICU, we were told my dad had 24-48 hours to live and had to make a decision to either try to keep him going which would involve many more moments of suffering or to simply be put out of the pain and to end it in comfort. It was the hardest day/moment of our lives. My dad asked me to please let him go. I wanted to say NO dad, but that wouldn't have been fair of me. So we allowed him to make his own courageous decision. He was suffering too much. So I said goodbye and let him go. We took our turns one by one saying our goodbyes. They then moved my dad to the 12th floor of the hospital. (A floor reserved for minor illnesses and falls). We stayed by his side in a nice room with a view of the mountains bringing him anything he wanted, making him as comfortable as possible. My dad’s birthday was New Year’s Eve so we threw a party for him in his hospital room, with cake, music, crystals & movies. The doctors were all so shocked that my dad was still here with a strong pulse, perfect vitals but still a failing liver and kidneys. I truly believe that we were given that extra time for the beautiful reason of family connection as his sisters even got a chance to fly in from California & New Jersey. He was surrounded by so much LOVE, family, and peace. We laughed, we cried, we told stories, we watched movies and played his favorite musical albums. He even had a large Quartz cluster at the foot of his bed brightening up the room with a lovely vibration. It was great! He was almost able to communicate with us up until his final hours. He was not scared or worried about passing but instead comfortable and ready for his adventure ahead of him. We told him how many people were sending prayers to him online and he’d smile knowing that his friends all were thinking of him. As painful as it was to watch him fade away slowly each day we stayed there day & night and had slumber parties to pass the time as joyful as possible. My brother and I never left his side. We wanted to be with him when he passed over. My brother went outside for 5 minutes (as he was drawing "Denny Lane" in the snow) my dad passed away with only me by his side on (1/11/13) at 6pm a day that brought a peaceful blizzard of snow out of nowhere. From the 12th Floor overlooking the Rockies it was a spectacle. Our dad was a true fighter and never gave up, he made a courageous decision knowing that he had nothing but suffering ahead for himself and his family. He was full of LOVE and compassion, he was extremely generous and was a very hard worker all of his life. He was a special soul and touched so many lives. We are so lucky to have had him as our dad. My dad was my best friend. We saw each other everyday. I sometimes think that because we were so close, this has made his death so much harder. He was a loving dad, husband, papa, and friend to many. His life was about PEACE, LOVE and COMPASSION. He lived a life of kindness and generosity and aimed to inspire others to live the same way. He encouraged my brother and myself to follow our dreams and always supported us. He was a wonderful husband who was happily married to our mom for 36 years I am not quite sure how to use this forum yet, but I will try my best. I will make a post next on what is going on in my family's lives since my dad is gone. It is just me, my older brother, and my mom (who suffers from depression, anxiety, substance abuse, attempted suicide) left. I never imagined that life could get much worse, but everyday is a struggle. Thank you all for reading this long post.
  17. 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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