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  1. My mother passed away suddenly of natural causes. Her doctor told me it might be a heartattack or a blood clot. She had spoken to me the days before abort how she was not feeling well. I calmed her down as usual, because she suffered from anxiety. Panick attacks and fear of death and disease. She had spoken to me all those years about how panick attacks, can fell like a Heart attack. So i never really took anything she said seriously, because i thought it might be anxiety as usual. she had told me i should tell her if i had a feeling that she Would die, i did and i diddent tell her soon enough, that i did that week. But i always feared she Would die. All my life, i thought about it every day. Because she was so afraid of dying and spoke to me about it often. I always feared loosing her, and feared that she Would die, because she suffered from hypocondria and fear of death. She always thought that something was wrong with her, so i have always been alerted. That day before her death, she was angry with me and wouldent talk to me. So i gave her some space. Her boyfreind was up with her the Night before her death. She told she had chestpains and asked if this where what it felt like to die. he Tried to Convince her to take and ambulance, but she refused. The symptoms passed and he left for work that Morning. She had an incident before, not as bad though, where they where up at Night. I was very shocked and concerned when i found out, and takkes with her about it. We concluded that the incided was due to her anxiety. But i called her boyfreind, to tell that he should Contact me, if a simular incident should happen. he diddent Think about calling me that Night/Morning. on my Way to work that Day i thought about skipping work, and to go visit my mom. I Think about what could have happened if i did. That she might be saved. I diddent Call her, because i thought she still needed space. i should have listened to her fear of death the weeks upto her death. I was just so used to her anxiety, and that there never was anything before, that i diddent react. I blame myself for not listening. I blame myself for not going home to her that Morning. She was so scared the weeks before her death, but she had been on several occasions before. I just diddent see it. That it was real this time. if her boyfreind had just told me about their Night, i Would definetly had gone to her house and skipped work.
  2. A week or so before my Dad's death (November 2016) I had a huge argument with him, because he said I didn't respect him and I told him I didn't because of how he had treated me earlier in the year when I told him I had anxiety. I called him a coward for not talking to me about it, he said I wasn't part of the family. He was in the worst stages of his liver cancer. He cringed in pain as I shouted at him saying he was a coward for not being able to talk to me and he said I would regret this moment when I saw him being buried in a coffin and preceded to walk upstairs and say he didn't know how he could give birth to something so evil. Around the time my Dad was diagnosed with cancer, the very beginning of 2016, was when I told him about my anxiety and he (quite understandably) rejected it and said it was nothing (which is in fact right, who gives a **** about anxiety, he told me to forget about it, the very cure to anxiety in fact). But after that I hated him for the rest of the year, all throughout his chemo and travels to India for further chemo, I ignored him and resented him. I spent as little time with him as possible, I focused on other things such as my future, thinking if my Dad doesn't care about me I'll at least care about myself. My Dad has always been my God. But this last year all I've felt is hate. I numbed myself completely, I haven't felt any real emotion in months - really years. Now I hate myself. There is no way I can recover from this. My Dad died hating me and being ashamed of me. I can't move on from this.
  3. My mother died on December 26th, 2016. She was only 66 years old, She died of COPD. We weren't really close, she was a difficult woman. Whenever we were together we would fight, Its been that way since I was a child. I did love her though and she did love me in her own way. The last words she ever said to me in person was "get out" I did talk with her on the phone one time a few months before she died, she was kind of out of it . she told me she didn't blame me for "disappearing" after everything that happened between us. I still stayed away after that worried that I would upset her. when she was more in her right mind she tried to contact me but the one person who had my phone number gave her the wrong number on purpose. so for over a year she tried but I never got her message. I don't really have a social media presence so I guess I am kind of hard to find. our relationship was always off and on though. it was normal for us to go years without speaking. its so sad, such a waste of time. truth be told we were both sort of petty and very stubborn. the family members who looked out for her were cruel to her in her last days. they were penny pinching (with her money) they wouldn't pay for necessary medical stuff to keep her comfortable ,they cut off her cable tv, and even her last wishes in regard's to her burial weren't respected. to add insult to injury not 2 hours after she was buried they were over at her farm taking stuff, trying to at least. I stopped them in their tracks, when I called the cops on them ! I am now fighting with those ghouls over her estate. its not about the money or even the property. its about her wishes, she wouldn't have wanted them to see one red cent ! she wanted her place turned into an animal shelter for large animals (horses, goats, ect) and I intend on fallowing through with her wishes. its kind of my way to make amends. I try to remember what little good times we had but for every good one ten bag ones come flooding back as well. I love her and I hate her. I keep having the same reoccurring nightmare every single night. I dream that I am standing by her grave and for some reason I am overcome with a strange clusterphobic feeling and then I envision her buried alive, stuck 6 feet underground in her casket. then I wake up. I haven't slept in a week and time seems to have slowed to a crawl. do any of you guys suffered from reoccurring nightmares as well? how do you deal with mourning someone you've had a rocky relationship with? I noticed there seems to be very few books written about this kinda stuff. I feel so overwhelmed and tired both emotionally and physically. she is really all I can think about these days.
  4. I'm so confused... I don't know what I did wrong. I was only married for 3 years, and all of a sudden he wanted to end it... He ended it ON thanksgiving. On our anniversary... I just feel so lost. He didn't cheat, but all of a sudden he's in love with someone else... It kinda makes me feel like I wasn't doing what I should have been.. Like I wasn't giving him enough of my time, or love. But I did though. I did all of that because he was my world. He ended it 2 months after I had our child, our beautiful little girl who wound up being a still born. So it all sort of hit right there at once. And it's so hard, because now I'm all alone :(. He told me he still wanted us to remain really good friends, like we were before we got married. But i don't know if i can be friends again until i heal completely from the hurt of the divorce. Is that wrong? I mean I'm all for being best friends again, but only after i get over the shock of us splitting up. But i kind of still feel like I'm never gonna STOP loving him... I just don't know what to do. Someone please give me some advice.
  5. This is my first experience with forums, so I hope I'm doing this correctly. My father passed away almost 10 months ago, and I've had an extremely hard time dealing with the feelings of guilt and regret. This is not my first experience with the loss of a parent. My mother passed away suddenly in 2001, and it was terrible as you can imagine. I was 23 and my sister was 19. It took a long time time to figure out how how to cope, and there was some regret, but nothing like I feel now with my dad gone. My dad and mom divorced when I was around 4, so I grew up without seeing him everyday. However, we visited every other weekend, and he always made sure he called on birthdays and holidays. I never had any doubts that he loved me. By the time I was in my mid teens, he was divorced for the second time and enjoyed a somewhat wild lifestyle. Though I think he had a tougher time than he would admit with that marriage ending, and it was during that time that I started to see him drink more, and it was the first time I truly ever recall him being drunk. We still saw him and talked to him pretty regularly. As I approached 20, he had remarried and had a new baby on the way. I honestly wasn't sure what to think about it, but it was his life and as long as he was happy, that's all that mattered. As it turned out, that would become one of the most volatile and unhealthy relationships that I have ever witnessed. His drinking and behavior became increasingly worse at times. We still spoke and I would visit, just not as often as before because of college and work. There were several attempts to get him to seek treatment, but he refused. This made me angry, but mostly sad. When my mom passed when I was 23, he did a good job of trying to help me and my sister through that. However, his drinking continued. About a year after my mom passed, there was an incident between him, myself and my sister. He did not agree with who I was dating and showed up at my apartment one night intoxicated, violent and he said hurtful things to us that should never be said to your children. For the better part of 4 years he basically quit speaking to us, didn't attend my sisters wedding and moved out of state. I missed him and still loved him, but it was his choice. In 2006, he called me out of the blue and we reconnected. We spoke every night for several weeks, and he finally asked if he could come stay with me for a while. He was still living out of state but had lost his license and a good paying job. He needed help so I agreed. That worked for a while but he was still drinking and my tolerance was low. That eventually ended with another argument and me asking him to leave. After that he caught some bad breaks - jail over child support, difficulty in finding a job without license, all of his things were stolen out of storage, and the worst part was a stroke around 2009. After that he just wasn't quite himself. He would still drink excessively which led me to saying things that were hurtful and refusing to go around him. He went through boughts of depression, and would cry quite a bit about the past. I'm not good at dealing with those types of things so I would just try to get him to move past it. He would dwell on his third marriage and how he was wronged, which he was in many ways, but there was nothing he could do at that point to change it so I would get so frustrated at his repetitive gripes. I was the one who took care of the paperwork, and made phone calls and made sure he paid his bills. i would usually stop by his house every 2 to 3 weeks to see if he needed anything else, but found myself fussing at him about the cleanliness of his house. I stayed on him about that. He was always so meticulous in his appearance and his surroundings, but in recent years he had let that go. It bothered me to see him that way. Maybe there were times I was embarrassed, but mainly I just didn't want people looking down on him. I found that overall my patience with him was very low too. The best way to describe it is that I probably talked to him like a child sometimes. I wasn't hateful or mean, but stern, possibly condescending. i never really stayed long when I did visit, it was always a quick in and out. Though I always told him he had an open invitation to my house, and tried to get him over at least once a week. By last year, he was improving. He was drinking less, but still suffered from depression sometimes. I think he had a hard time adjusting to his new life with limited income. He was doing a better job overall. Though my patience with him in general was low. In June 2015, he was admitted to the hospital and coded twice. Miraculously, after a week, it was almost as if nothing had ever happened. He was feeling better, walking everyday and seemed happy. The doctors assured me that any problems with his heart could be managed with medicine. Over the next couple of months, he was coming by my house more and we spoke once a week. However, on August 13, he was gone. I had not physically seen him in 2-3 weeks prior to take because I had been in and out of town. I literally felt like my world was crashing around me. I felt sick. I still feel sick. I know this is long, so I apologize, but I tell you all of this to give you the background of how and why I feel like I do today. I can't get past the feeling that I should have been nicer, visited more, had more patience. I feel like I was a terrible daughter emotionally, and I tried to substitute that with financial support. I think back to all of the times he would be talking to me and I would be nodding my head and looking down at my phone. I worry that he thought I was embarrassed of him. Even though I always said I love you when ending a call, I worry most of all that he never truly knew just how much I loved him and how much I would have done for him. I just don't know how to move forward.
  6. Can't get over my late wife

    I lost the love of my life July 16, 2014 and I can't get over it. I have a new woman in my life and she is wonderful, but Sarah is the only woman I ever wanted. Sarah was so witty, colorful, charming, smart, beautiful, and tall. But she had severe mental illness and had tried so many times to kill herself. But her nurse practitioner mis-medicated her and in the early summer of 2014 she went manic. We had the smallest of altercations, drinks were thrown on each other, but she called the police and lied so I was charged with domestic battery and ordered no have no contact with her. She became depressed and just as were to be reunited, she intentionally overdosed. Oh God! How I regret my mistakes – I meant well and I loved her so much. It was her step-mother-in law that left her all alone in a depressed and despondent state with all these pysch meds she'd bought her. And then she called and threatened Sarah if she got back together with me. I honestly sometimes think that if I knew I'd be with Sarah again I'd kill myself, but then I know the pain it would cause my family. I miss her so much. I don't know what to do.
  7. My beloved dad passed away almost six months ago, two days after Christmas, 2014. We were very close. My father was my best friend and my hero. I was his only child and his caregiver. He raised me by himself after my parents divorced when I was five years old. For most of the last thirty years I was a caregiver for four elderly relatives in succession, so I stayed home a lot. My dad and I lived in the same house for 55 years. In the last 14 years we were together almost 24/7. It feels like my own life ended with his, because our lives were so intertwined for all those years. And yet, when I look back, I can't believe all the time that has passed. The years passed too quickly. There were so many things I had hoped to do for and with my father, but we ran out of time. Almost every happiness I experienced was associated with him in some way. I grew up surrounded by lots of relatives and friends. Now most of my friends and relatives have died or moved away. For the first time in my life I am alone, no husband, no children, not even a boyfriend. I've never felt such intense loneliness and sadness before. I have tried to make new friends, but the more people I meet, the more I miss my dad, because no one is as kind, generous and considerate as he was. My father taught me to like the things he liked, especially movies and music. Through the years we watched and listened to thousands of films and songs, especially classic films and vintage pop music of the '20's and 30's. Now when I think of our favorite films and songs, I'm filled with sadness and longing. I think of how I'll never be able to watch a favorite film or listen to music with him again. Movies and music used to be our refuge from the worries and sadness of life. The very things that used to comfort me and make me happy now make me sad. Most people don't share my interests, so I feel very isolated. Not much of anything interests me anymore. I don't want to abandon the interests I shared with my father, but it's so painful to think about even the happy memories of my dad. "There is no greater sorrow than to recall a happy time when miserable." -- Dante. I feel so miserable. It happened so fast. My father had been through crises before, but his will to live always pulled him through. It would take too long to describe all the medical things that went wrong, which make me think the hospital wanted him to die. He was 86 and had been sick for a long time, but his death still came as a terrible shock to me. I loved him more than anything in this world, and he knew it, but I still think of times when I wasn't as kind to him as I should have been. I always asked for his forgiveness right away, but I wish I hadn't complained about things so much to him. Compared to the way I feel now, I was in the seventh heaven back then. There were always problems I had to discuss with him, from crooked contractors to inept lawyers to false friends and envious relatives. Our escape from reality were films and music. I practically sacrificed my life for my dad, but I still feel I didn't do enough for him. He was such a good person, so humble, patient and considerate. In his younger days, he was strong, handsome and as chivalrous as they come.. I always felt safe in his presence, even after he could no longer physically protect me. I was so proud of my dad. He never finished high school, but he had more class in his little finger than some people have in their whole body. People say I will get used to living alone, but will I get used to being unhappy? I never realized before just how dependent my happiness was on my father. I know my presence was a comfort to him, too. I helped save his life more than once, but there were times he was alone in the hospital, because I had to sleep and there was no one to cover for me. I thought he would be watched over in the ICU, but twice I found him in distress with no one helping him. It broke my heart to see my normally stoic father beg for air, water and God's mercy. Then when he saw me, he thanked me so profusely. From that point, I knew I could not leave him by himself anymore. But by then it was too late. Once they put him on the morphine drip and removed the nasal gastric feeding tube, it helped with his breathing and for a brief while he was his normal, calm self, until he drifted off into unconsciousness. Those last images of him relaxed and calm save my sanity. I then watched him die for 36 hours straight in Comfort Care from respiratory failure. They say he didn't suffer, but his labored breathing looked uncomfortable. Sometimes his furrowed brow made it look like he wanted to wake up. As I kept vigil by his bedside, I finally nodded off to sleep in the chair. Then he took his last breath. It's as if my father had waited for me to fall sleep before he left this world. I was lucky to have had my father with me for as long as I did, but even at age 56, I feel like a orphan, alone and lost in the world. My mother died just two months before my dad, but she didn't raise me. The grief for my father is much worse, because I was with him my whole life. My life seems so empty now. People tell me to keep busy, but I still think about him, no matter what I'm doing. Some activities make me think about him even more, such as working in the garden. I feel I should have treated him like the rare treasure that he was, and not spent so much time on my hobbies. I should have cherished every last moment with him. There were quiet times, when we'd be resting on the couch, when I did cherish our time together, even if we didn't say a word to each other. I thought he had a few years left. I'd give up everything I have just to spend one more hour with him, an hour where we could still talk and laugh as if we didn't have a care in the world, like in the good old days. I'm not sleeping well. It was a struggle to wean myself off of Ambien and then Ativan. I barely have enough energy to wash the dishes and do the laundry. I still have to do most of the same mundane chores I did before, but now without the joy of my dad's company. Even taking the garbage out and making a grocery shopping list was more fun when he was around. When you've been happy with someone all your life, how can you go on without them? I have lost loved ones before, but I always had my dad to give me moral support. Now there is no one in the world who loves me. There are people who like me, but it's not the same as having a parent, a child, a sibling or a partner who really cares about me. Then I feel so sorry for my father, that he didn't get to do a lot of the fun things that most people do. Partly it was his choice. He was happiest at home, but I feel like he short-changed himself. I haven't had the most fun life either, as a caregiver all those years, but at least my life had a purpose and I was with people I loved every day. Life without love is no life at all! Now I have the time and freedom to do fun things, but they aren't fun anymore, because I miss my dad. I keep seeing things he would have liked and I wish so much he could see them. Sometimes I wonder if he is in heaven seeing wonderful things and wishing I could see them, too.
  8. Hello everyone. Almost 2 years my mother died, and i have just finished a small blog about her death and my journey with it. I now wish to share it, in the hope that my words will accompany, and perhaps support others who are living the same journey. Thank you for your presence and for reading, Arusha My Blog: http://arushatantrablog.strikingly.com
  9. I am 23 years old (female) and my mom died of cancer in may, a week before my grandfather died and 3 weeks before my 23rd birthday. She originally had breast cancer and it spread to her brain 6 months before she passed away. She was a really wonderful person...not just because she was my mom but because she really was. If i had grown up with her we would have been best friends. I moved home from NYC when she received her stage 4 diagnosis and we had 2 wonderful years together even when she was sick. She never complained about anything and I cannot fathom having the strength, bravery, and positive attitude that she had. When it spread to her brain, however, she started to change. She got scared and angry that she was starting to lose the ability to be on her own, walk, and eventually even get out of bed. Watching this happen was the worst thing I've ever seen in my life and hopefully it's the worst thing I'll ever have to see. She started to snap at me and seem to enjoy other peoples' company more than mine. She wasn't as responsive to me when I would hang out with her and eventually she just wouldn't really even talk to me when I was at hospice. I've always used humor to deflect the feeling of sadness and I really just played hostess to everyone at the hospice when they came to visit. I just didn't want to feel sad so I pretended to be "fine". I think this really hurt her feelings because she thought i wasn't taking it seriously or something. I'm the only one she didn't really say "goodbye" or "i love you" too at the end and it still breaks my heart. Ever since she died I feel like she died hating me. Everyone tells me that she loved me and that "wasn't her" but i can't remember anything but these last weeks. I wasn't even there the day she died, it's the only day I didn't go spend time at the hospice. I know this is a pretty specific situation, but if anyone has any advice for these feelings of intense regret or any similar feelings. I thought i would "feel her presence" or something around more or feel the love that I felt from her growing up, but I've spent the past 8 months feeling like she hates me or is mad at me and it won't go away. Please let me know if this is normal.
  10. new to loss and need to talk

    We spent 5 years on and off. First in college, he proposed to me. He planned to surf up to the alter. He drove 30 hours straight to see me when we rekindled 4 months ago. This time, he said, I won't let you go. This time is forever. An eerie text he wrote a few weeks ago: "if something actually happens like the end of the world. Will I see you once before that? And if it does happen, I want you next to me. It's the only way I'd wanna go out." Of course I don't believe in prophecies, and he did not either. I responded that I'd want to be next to him too, which happens to be a curse that will haunt me forever. The past 4 months we moved fast and I applied for jobs, packed my belongings, and planned on moving across the country to be with him. I walked fast, doubled up on graduate classes, and researched the weather out there. Every breath I took was toward our future. He felt the same and waited in pain. He said being without me was a dark dungeon with a steady water drip in the background. So I hurried along. I rode the train with him two Thursdays ago. My head rested on his shoulder as he blared music on his headphones. I'm so happy he stood up at my stop. It meant the world to me he gave me a huge hug and a big kiss. If only I could go back to that moment and never let go. I thought about looking back to wave but wondered coolly if he'd watch me walk away. I should have looked back. Two weeks ago I was supposed to go out with him and his friends. He wanted to introduce me to some. I won tickets to a concert and he knew how badly I wanted to go and told me six times to choose the concert. But he told me he was upset and surprised. The night he lost his life in an automobile accident. Now I feel eternal punishment for not putting him first. I'm so sorry. But I know it's not entirely my fault. An infinite series of events led to the accident. But people get into accidents all the time and break bones. Why, this time, did it cost a life? Why his life? We had plans! He told me I'd never be alone and I've never felt so dreadfully lonely. Laughter bleeds. People try to distract me, but I don't want to be distracted. All I'm left with is a notebook, memories that will gradually shift, pictures, words, haunted dreams, floods of tears, regret, remorse, despair. How could it be the first time we rode bikes together was our last? Oh I should have been next to him like I promised. For now I cry, they nod and say they understand, but they don't. I feign smiles; my laugh is forced. He began to carry me away but not far enough and now I walk circles in the wrong direction. An ache so deep, trapped inside, no sun shines, nothing grows. A future shattered. An uncertain past. Immense regret. A waking nightmare. I drag each step. Why am I supposed to walk on while he stands still? My body aches with bumps and breezes. I walk in circles and see his smiles everywhere and nowhere at all. I walk in circles and I need him to whisk me away and whisper to me a direction. Moments of clarity; mostly confusion. Dark devastation. Pissed at the sound of conversation and normalcy. I'm only breathing because he lived so large, with the wind. I try to follow his guidance and be inspired to love my surroundings and the people in them. But I'm torn between living (really living) and not wanting to take another step without him. I wake up each morning crying; another day without him. I used to dream of him every night. Now only nightmares.