TDS The TDS grief/bereavement thread

[FnX]

So I broke up with them. It felt like the only right choice at the time. Now a couple weeks later they're dead. I am simply at a loss for words, shocked and surprised even if part of me could always predict that the possibility for an outcome like this was significant. You just never fucking think it's actually possible no matter how high probability you think it is. Flooded by so many emotions it's overwhelming, first instinct is to call them and talk but they're NEVER going to answer again. You just spent their last 3 years of life with them. They practically were my life for those same years. Yesterday I felt like I was still rightfully angry, now I feel like I have no right to even be angry. They just wanted me to be angry at them so it would be easier to take their own life.

They had decided when they were 10 years old that they are never going to live past 30 years old. I gave them almost a full year longer, but am I supposed to feel fucking good or something? I could have tried harder, longer, whatever, but I felt positive it would only result in two corpses eventually, instead of one or zero corpses. My last memories are nothing but arguments with a psychotic person who is completely out of touch with reality, me thinking we would resolve our issues when they get a little better. It's so goddamn painful to think how they were feeling during those last days of their life, and I will never ever know for sure either. What am I supposed to do? I guess I'll figure it out eventually once the shock is gone. Right now everything just feels surreal, until it really sinks in that they're actually dead, at which point it becomes surreal again.

 

[coley86]

The day my mom died tragically in the arms of my sister was the day my heart broke in a million pieces. I happened to be in a sober program for the first year and a few months which was a blessing. I told my mom I loved her that day but I never got to say goodbye. I walked into the ER and kissed her and smelled her before she went to the morgue. Her brown eyes were lifeless and she was gone too soon. I helped organize the funeral while in a state of shock and the tears and pain didnt stop. I did her hair when she was in the casket and she was buried. My life was engrossed in working two jobs and I lost some weight that year. I turned to drugs a year and a half after her death and I wanted to die as well. Its been 8 years this thanksgiving she went to heaven and parts of me have not properly grieved but some have. She is supposed to be my reason for sobriety and its still not working out for me to stay completely sober. I have my moments. My mom would want us to honor her death and she would want us to be happy so I try to remember that.

 

[coley86]

My mom was 51 years old. Its been 8 years like I said and addiction has been a battle since I was released from the sober program I was in. I had life inside of me when she was around. The first two years were surreal. I was in shock for a long time and it didnt hit me for a year or so. My mom was my everything and I will never be the same. My heart goes out to everyone in this group that has dealt with pain so deep and survived.

 

[coley86]

My heart is still broken and unhealed. I can laugh with my family about her which is a huge step of healing but I still feel pain that isnt dealt with. Addiction has made my life worse and its a miracle I have made it this far. Much love to everyone here.

 

[Xorkoth]

I'm sorry about your mom.

So I broke up with them. It felt like the only right choice at the time. Now a couple weeks later they're dead. I am simply at a loss for words, shocked and surprised even if part of me could always predict that the possibility for an outcome like this was significant. You just never fucking think it's actually possible no matter how high probability you think it is. Flooded by so many emotions it's overwhelming, first instinct is to call them and talk but they're NEVER going to answer again. You just spent their last 3 years of life with them. They practically were my life for those same years. Yesterday I felt like I was still rightfully angry, now I feel like I have no right to even be angry. They just wanted me to be angry at them so it would be easier to take their own life.

They had decided when they were 10 years old that they are never going to live past 30 years old. I gave them almost a full year longer, but am I supposed to feel fucking good or something? I could have tried harder, longer, whatever, but I felt positive it would only result in two corpses eventually, instead of one or zero corpses. My last memories are nothing but arguments with a psychotic person who is completely out of touch with reality, me thinking we would resolve our issues when they get a little better. It's so goddamn painful to think how they were feeling during those last days of their life, and I will never ever know for sure either. What am I supposed to do? I guess I'll figure it out eventually once the shock is gone. Right now everything just feels surreal, until it really sinks in that they're actually dead, at which point it becomes surreal again.

This reminds me so much of my really close friends that it gives me chills. They were a couple, they had gotten married, but over the past few years she had slowly been losing the plot, certainly a personality disorder which was exacerbated by drugs, specifically, a long-term benzo addiction and a shorter-term but intense 3-MeO-PCP abuse. She got so psychotic/manic/impossible to deal with and was IVing drugs behind his back, so he broke up with her and moved out. Less than a month later, we found her dead on the floor, she had ODed on something (we found out from the toxicology report that she had fentanyl in her system, what happened was she went out to get heroin without having an opiate tolerance). We'll really never know if it was an accident or if she did it on purpose. She was like a sister to me and watching her descent was heartbreaking, frustrating and painful. We all hoped she would recover from it, but she hadn't even gotten to the point, even after years, of being able to admit she had a problem. I really didn't expect her to die suddenly though. It really fucked me up for a while. It made me realize how fragile life is, how any of us could go at any time. I'd say I'm a little neurotic about it, as I get older I've naturally become more of a worrier about people (just like my mom is), but my friend's death had kicked it into high gear. I have periods of feeling grief, and it's also complicated because there is anger as well, and there was anger and grief before she died too.

But yeah, my friend who was her husband was pretty fucked up about it. He was blaming himself a lot and fell into a big depression right after for a while. He felt like if he would have stayed, it might not have happened. But he doesn't blame himself anymore, and he shouldn't, and you shouldn't either. Everyone makes their own choices. Sometimes, when you've tried everything, you have to walk away from people for your own health's sake.

RIP Erin

 

[SweetLeaf7]

Hello all -

I'm so grateful for the BL community. I lost 2 of my parents unexpectedly last year. Stepmom of 30 years died in front of my dad and then he drank himself to death 3 months later. 2 weeks later my PM doc was shut down by DEA so made up my mind the time to get off opiates was now. It has been very hard to deal with everything. Like others, I wanted to do this for my dad because he could not and the beast killed him. I still regret not going to hospital to say goodbye. The nurses said he was stable and not to come, but I knew he was going to die - I felt it in my gut. And now I can never talk to him again. I almost don't want to fully grieve because it is too painful, especially without the numbing that opiates provide.

Much peace and love to all those grieving losses.

- SweetLeaf7

 

[herbavore]

And now I can never talk to him again. I almost don't want to fully grieve because it is too painful

I think this is what it comes down to--the enormity of the grief is terrifying at first and you try to find ways to break it off in small pieces. But that can get you in trouble. I think, as hard and as scary as it seems, that letting the whole wave just roll you and spit you out is actually the way forward. I tried shoving it all down for as long as I could--and if I'd had an addiction I probably would have relapsed. Finally, I decided to just say "bring it on, grief" and to my surprise I could bear it, I could survive it, and I could let it have some space in me, just not the whole house.

I'm really sorry about your parents. I am also sorry that you did not get to be with your Dad the night he died. That's a whole other layer to the grief. But your courage to stay off opiates is amazing and I hope that you will keep your resolve strong. PM me anytime if you need support.

 

[Tubbs]

I'm sorry to hear about your parents leaf, I'm with herby. It's best to deal with it now, I know when my best friend died 5 years ago, I didn't really grieve at all, didn't even go to his funeral, I pushed it to the back of my mind because I felt i couldn't deal with it. He was like my brother and he was gone, it took me 3 years to finally grieve, when it finally happened i didn't even know what was happening, I had gotten a whiff of the same cologne he wore, and broke down in tears, went hysterical, like I should have done 3 years earlier.

That night I had a dream he and I were sitting in his house hanging out, he asked me if I was alright, I told him yes, because for the first time since hed passed I was. After that it was like the weight of the world came off my shoulders, I still think about him sometimes, but it's always on a positive note.

Much love, the same as herby said applies to me as well, always happy to be of service.

 

[BehindtheShadow]

Hello all -

I'm so grateful for the BL community. I lost 2 of my parents unexpectedly last year. Stepmom of 30 years died in front of my dad and then he drank himself to death 3 months later. 2 weeks later my PM doc was shut down by DEA so made up my mind the time to get off opiates was now. It has been very hard to deal with everything. Like others, I wanted to do this for my dad because he could not and the beast killed him. I still regret not going to hospital to say goodbye. The nurses said he was stable and not to come, but I knew he was going to die - I felt it in my gut. And now I can never talk to him again. I almost don't want to fully grieve because it is too painful, especially without the numbing that opiates provide.

Much peace and love to all those grieving losses.

- SweetLeaf7

I am so sorry about your parents, I too lost my dad to a heart attack. He collapsed at home and I had managed to resuscitate him until an ambulance had arrived but I lost him anyway.

I also had the responsibility of having to sort out everything, I hadn't had the chance to cry or to grieve, it hit me a few weeks later and was the hardest thing I ever had to deal with.

Take time to grieve its important.

xoxo

 

[Xorkoth]

Every time I have to grieve, it happens in stages, like my subconsciousness holds most of it back at all times and releases it in little bursts. It's annoying but it works for me. Not that I can even help it... it makes me feel guilty sort of but it's just how it works for me. My point is, however you grieve, that's okay and you should accept it and not let it make you feel bad. I know I've had to do that...

My condolensces. My dad having ALS is horrible, but one good thing about it is, I know he's going and I know when he'll decide to let go and stop having assisted breathing, so I will get to say goodbye and I've sort of been saying goodbye in stages already.

 

[herbavore]

My condolensces. My dad having ALS is horrible, but one good thing about it is, I know he's going and I know when he'll decide to let go and stop having assisted breathing, so I will get to say goodbye and I've sort of been saying goodbye in stages already.

My own Dad's death changed my mind about how I hope I will die. I used to think that I wanted to die in my sleep--kind of a surprise attack so that I would not grieve giving up life, have to say goodbye forever to my kids and the earth that I love so much. But my Dad had a long, slow decline from an incurable lung disease and though the incremental loss of function was terrible, the process was not without some of our best and most meaningful times together. My Dad and I had a rough time ever since I hit adolescence and that time allowed us to simply let that past finally and completely fall away. We had the time to focus on nothing but expressing love. I learned from that situation that there is a powerful grace in knowing that death is around the corner. We healthy people say that we know this but it is abstract and we don't really believe it. I hope that you and your Dad have had and will continue to have these times together. The advance grieving you talk about is something I experienced as well. When someone leans over to tie his shoe and has an aneurysm, the shock and unreality is almost a violence within the grief. When death is not only expected, but in some cases longed for, to end the dying person's suffering, it can have a more gentle trajectory. I wish your Dad his fill of good moments--though maybe we never get our fill. And I wish your mom strength and courage. Every parent's deepest wish is to know that despite any mistakes made, despite all their human frailties and deficiencies, their children know that they were loved beyond measure and that love helped them to become beings of love themselves. You have given your Dad that gift many times over already I'm sure.

 

[Xorkoth]

Yeah when his death finally comes it will be a relief overall. That makes it more horrible right now but the actual death won't be, as you put, it a violence within the grief.

 

[NeedleJunkie]

After reading a few posts on this thread, I had to stop, because it reminded me of my loss, and it was making me sad. My deceased loved one's birthday is tomorrow, and that's really like made me sad, like just comparing the day this year, to the day last year. I've really had a difficult time with this loss. It was a very close friend, who died of an overdose. I felt that people looked at me like I was just his "using buddy" or something like that. When his mom told me he was dead, she yelled at me, and blamed me. The people who have actually been the most supportive are my friends that are addicts, because most of them have lost someone close to them to an overdose. And also, because they understood that our relationship was about more than drugs. Another bad thing was that we were both in long term relationships with other people, and we were like having sex, and doing stuff we shouldn't have been. His mom and his girlfriend knew about it, and when I talked to the police, they knew about it too, and I'm really not sure who else knows, but it made his family hate me even more, and most of his friends (who hadn't been there for him during his addiction) took her side. There seemed to be a lot of animosity, and it was looking like the memorial service was going to be me and my friends, and her and her friends, and I don't know if a fight might have broken out or something. Anyways, they decided for financial reasons just to have him cremated, and not have a memorial service.

It's been like almost a year, since he died, and this year has been such a blur. I barely ever leave the house. Maybe once a week, if I need to go to the bank to get money for dope. I'm an escort. I used to be very successful, when my friend was alive, and I have a good amount of money still saved. The only person I see regularly are customers and my dealer. As I've become more and more depressed, I won't even answer the phone for customers, and I'm starting to spend more money than I make. Like, I know drugs are bad, and all that, but not everyone is about like, getting off drugs. I've been a junkie for 10 years.

But, I know I need help with my grief. I'm leery to join a grief counseling group, because I think they probably will tell me I have to stop doing dope first. And I don't feel like I would get anything out of it if I just didn't mention that I have an addiction. It's already enough stigma that I'm a sex worker, and I feel like they will just look at me like a junkie whore, and refer me to a 7 day detox. Anyways, I'm glad I found this thread. And, I just wonder if there's any help out there for me... not to help me get off dope, but to move past this tragedy, and like maybe make a new best friend, that I can like, share my struggles with. Or, just to figure out how to be mildly unhappy again, like before I lost my friend, and not miserable. At this point, the loneliness of not having that kind of intimacy anymore, is like worse than the grief of the death.

I want to get off drugs, and like, change my life and stuff, but I've been on drugs a long time, and I've only had like, serious depression since the death. I'm just tired of not receiving any treatment for other mental health issues, because I do drugs, and the doctor will always refuse to help unless I stop doing drugs, and refer me to a detox. Like, am I just supposed to die of a broken heart then?

Edit: I think the only like, good things about the death were, that I saw him that afternoon, and he died that night. We hung out for a few hours. The last thing we said to each other was "I love you" and "I love you, too." and I'm really glad I got to be with him on his last day. But I also have horrible thoughts, like if he had known, would he have spent the day with that other girl? Also, a few weeks ago, my friend found his stash of needles in my basement, and I took one that has some blood in it and put it in my scrapbook. So, I'm glad I was able to like, get back some of his earthly remains.

 

[herbavore]

I'm sorry for your loss and also that his family blames you. They are in grief too and often people grieving will just grab onto anything to blame--focusing on anger is a way to avoid feeling the depth of sadness. I do hope that you know in your heart that your friend knew someone loved him during his difficult life. It's really all we have to give each other.

 

[SuchaCard]

Okay...so I guess this is to be my first post after a looooonnnnggg time lurking here. I guess I just need to tell this story. So...here goes nothing....

I became homeless thanks to my rampant use of methamphetamine. I'm not gonna lie, I basically had it coming, but that's not important. The important part comes on a sunny spring day at the neighborhood traphouse.

I was in the "back" where all the iv users went to bang up. When a couple of new faces come through the door and I'm introduced to the woman who would drag me out of that place. Leading me on a whirlwind ride that lasted two full years.

We went through hell and back with each other. Crashing at various places, sometimes in hotels, other times in the back of my van. The entire journey made one fix at a time. Using the entire time with no regard to the hell we inflicted on ourselves and each other.

It all culminated when we got busted with all our dope, paraphernalia...everything, when we got pulled over because I was nodding out on the road. I got off pretty easy, but she got way more because of other unresolved judicial matters.

Well I get out and waste no time getting back into it. Filling my days at the traphouse selling/buying/trading/using. Basically living my life as I had before she lit a fire under my ass.

Fast forward to June of this year. A week before my sisters birthday I'm sitting in a hotel room with 6 other junkies and I finally get my shot in. Head rolling from a monster meth speedball that in hindsight should've been the one, I notice my phone going off and it's her old number. I get excited and pick up, ready to see my baby again.

Instead it's her mother. Claire had been released and was free for less than 48 hours before she died from acute asphyxiation due to a high dose of fentanyl.

Now its October and I'm living a state away with my parents trying to figure out how to deal. I quit doing heroin and meth, but I still can't shake this. I fucking loved this girl, but all my parents or sisters saw was the dope fiend couple trying to get money to cop.

I can't tell my sisters how I feel because according to them Claire did this to herself and deserved it because she was weak. So here I am on BL crying on my phone while I try to tell internet strangers about this girl I knew who died.

Idk how to handle this. I just wanna get high so badly...

 

[Blowmonkey]

Sorry for your loss, don't get high again though, just have 1 or 2 drinks or something and call it quits. Talk to her mom, she called you knowing what you guys had together right? Talking to people on the internet is great, but you need some real life support as well, your family probably means well by simply trying to displace guilt, but if you don't tell them how you truly felt about Claire, they can't help you either. And if they really don't give a fuck, come back here, we do.

 

[Asclepius]

Okay...so I guess this is to be my first post after a looooonnnnggg time lurking here. I guess I just need to tell this story. So...here goes nothing....

I became homeless thanks to my rampant use of methamphetamine. I'm not gonna lie, I basically had it coming, but that's not important. The important part comes on a sunny spring day at the neighborhood traphouse.

I was in the "back" where all the iv users went to bang up. When a couple of new faces come through the door and I'm introduced to the woman who would drag me out of that place. Leading me on a whirlwind ride that lasted two full years.

We went through hell and back with each other. Crashing at various places, sometimes in hotels, other times in the back of my van. The entire journey made one fix at a time. Using the entire time with no regard to the hell we inflicted on ourselves and each other.

It all culminated when we got busted with all our dope, paraphernalia...everything, when we got pulled over because I was nodding out on the road. I got off pretty easy, but she got way more because of other unresolved judicial matters.

Well I get out and waste no time getting back into it. Filling my days at the traphouse selling/buying/trading/using. Basically living my life as I had before she lit a fire under my ass.

Fast forward to June of this year. A week before my sisters birthday I'm sitting in a hotel room with 6 other junkies and I finally get my shot in. Head rolling from a monster meth speedball that in hindsight should've been the one, I notice my phone going off and it's her old number. I get excited and pick up, ready to see my baby again.

Instead it's her mother. Claire had been released and was free for less than 48 hours before she died from acute asphyxiation due to a high dose of fentanyl.

Now its October and I'm living a state away with my parents trying to figure out how to deal. I quit doing heroin and meth, but I still can't shake this. I fucking loved this girl, but all my parents or sisters saw was the dope fiend couple trying to get money to cop.

I can't tell my sisters how I feel because according to them Claire did this to herself and deserved it because she was weak. So here I am on BL crying on my phone while I try to tell internet strangers about this girl I knew who died.

Idk how to handle this. I just wanna get high so badly...

Am so sorry man, for the loss of your loved one ☹

...some people will never be open to/understand you're narrative; you're experience - it's too much for them to take in.

It's not their fault; they just can't handle. After all, you are handling and you're beyond strong ❤

You got to search for people, who do.Its hard but sometimes, the right professional help can work.
I hate the stigma of professional help being for people with "problems" - people wouldn't have problems, if they had people they could entrust their feelings to - so this is the paradox, that goes with the inadequacy of our social system, and the situations, so many of us find ourselves in. It's inadequate. Your support network is inadequate. Not you!


You seem to be managing yourself & looking after yourself so well but just need some support.
It would be a bad move to jepordise that; ALWAYS be on your side, never give up.

Keep on, & look for resources- make a plan for what you need to do & hyperfocus on that- nothing less!!!

You deserve it, don't go idiot on yourself, breathe, keep your head & make a plan to find supports, for now & the future. ❤

Post back.

 

[Rebelgal54]

***I want to say that I’ve read through each post on this thread and I’m so very sorry for the losses each of you has endured.***

I lost the love of my life “G” to an overdose four years ago... it was just 3 days before his 32nd birthday. We had been together for a little more than ten years and we have two young daughters together who are now 10 and 12.

Even though a few years have gone by, sometimes the pain still cuts through me like a knife. I can hear a song on the radio with a little memory attached and the wind is knocked right out of me.

People were always assuring me that it wouldn’t hurt that bad forever, that time would eventually ease some of the sting. But it just doesn’t feel that way for me. I do the best I can to hold myself together in front of my family, friends, and co-workers. I go to work, or shopping, or to a PTG meeting... I do anything I can to stay busy. But once I get home and am laying in my bed alone... all of our memories run through my head like home movies and I cry so long I run out of tears.

I know I haven’t been able to move through the stages of grief the way I should. Only I don’t know what else I can do to change that.

I know that the biggest thing I can’t get past is an overwhelming feeling of GUILT.

When we first started dating in our early 20’s—G had never used any drugs at all, not even weed, but I was already quite an experienced user. Being young, dumb and selfish, I really wanted a “running partner” as they call it, someone to party and have fun with. I ended up convincing him to try cocaine with me a few times and then later oxycontin.

Flash forward 2 years...and we’re both full blown opiate addicts shooting heroin together daily, sometimes mixed with cocaine. We went on like that for awhile, until I found out I was pregnant and we both voluntarily went to rehab to get clean. I was put on methadone being that I was pregnant. He started taking Subutex. I stayed clean through the birth of my first daughter and had my second daughter 18 months later. I was doing really well in recovery, and I thought G was doing good too.

Then one evening I found him overdosed in our bathroom and I had to call 911. I hadn’t even known he was using again. They were able to revive him that time but CPS took my girls because of it and put them with my sister. We had to both take weekly drug tests and go to counseling to get the girls back, but G kept failing his tests. Eventually CPS told me that I couldn’t continue to have G in the home if I wanted the girls to live there again. I had no choice but to ask him to leave. He went to stay with his grandparents.

I tried everything to get him help but he continued using and got into all sorts of legal trouble on top of everything else. On the day he died he had asked me to bring him to a doctors appointment. When I went back to pick him up he wasn’t where he was supposed to be and wasn’t answering his phone. The typical games addicts play. I left without him and sent him a message saying he could find his own ride back and not to call me anymore because I was through with all that shit.

I got several calls from him over the next few hours but I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to hear lies and excuses. At about 10 pm that evening I got a call from G’s
***I want to say that I’ve read through each post on this thread and I’m so very sorry for the losses each of you has endured.***

I lost the love of my life “G” to an overdose four years ago... it was just 3 days before his 32nd birthday. We bad been together for a little more than ten years and we have two young daughters together who are now 10 and 12.

Even though a few years have gone by, sometimes the pain still cuts through me like a knife. I can hear a song on the radio with a little memory attached and the wind is knocked right out of me.

People were always assuring me that it wouldn’t hurt that bad forever, that time would eventually ease some of the sting. But it just doesn’t feel that way for me. I do the best I can to hold myself together in front of my family, friends, and co-workers. I go to work, or shopping, or to a PTG meeting... I do anything I can to stay busy. But once I get home and am laying in my bed alone... all of our memories run through my head like home movies and I cry so long I run out of tears.

I know I haven’t been able to move through the stages of grief the way I should. Only I don’t know what else I can do to change that.

I know that the biggest thing I can’t get past is an overwhelming feeling of GUILT.

When we first started dating in our early 20’s—G had never used any drugs at all, not even weed, but I was already quite an experienced user. Being young, dumb and selfish, I really wanted a “running partner” as they call it, someone to party and have fun with. I ended up convincing him to try cocaine with me a few times and then later oxycontin.

Flash forward 2 years...and we’re both full blown opiate addicts shooting heroin together daily, sometimes mixed with cocaine. We went on like that for awhile, until I found out I was pregnant and we both voluntarily went to rehab to get clean. I was put on methadone being that I was pregnant. He started taking Subutex. I stayed clean through the birth of my first daughter and had my second daughter 15 months later. I was doing really well in recovery, and I thought G was doing good too.

Then one evening I found him overdosed in our bathroom and I had to call 911. I hadn’t even known he was using again. They were able to revive him that time but CPS took my girls because of it and put them with my sister. We had to both take weekly drug tests and go to counseling to get the girls back, but G kept failing his tests. Eventually CPS told me that I couldn’t continue to have G in the home if I wanted the girls to live there again. I had no choice but to ask him to leave. He went to stay with his grandparents.

I tried everything to get him help but he continued using and got into all sorts of legal trouble on top of everything else. On the day he died he had asked me to bring him to a doctors appointment. When I went back to pick him up he wasn’t where he was supposed to be and wasn’t answering his phone. The typical games addicts play. I left without him and sent him a message saying he could find his own ride back and not to call me anymore because I was through with all that shit.

I got several calls from him over the next few hours but I didn’t answer. I didn’t want to hear lies and excuses. At about 10 pm that evening I got a call from G’s grandfather— they had found him overdosed in his bedroom and the paramedics hadn't been able to revive him.

He had pictures of me and the girls next to him on the bed.

I just can’t stop feeling that I caused this chain of events by being the person who introduced him to drugs in the first place. Or by kicking him out of the house when CPS told me to. Or if everything would have been different if I’d only answered his phone calls that afternoon. I know in my head it that none of it was my fault, but I can’t find it in my heart to forgive myself.

I don’t think I ever will.


er— they had found him overdosed in his bedroom and the paramedics hadn't been able to revive him.

He had pictures of me and the girls next to him on the bed.

I just can’t stop feeling that I caused this chain of events by being the person who introduced him to drugs in the first place. Or by kicking him out of the house when CPS told me to. Or if everything would have been different if I’d only answered his phone calls that afternoon. I know in my head it that none of it was my fault, but I can’t find it in my heart to forgive myself.

I don’t think I ever will.

 

[Glidingferret]

My girlfriend of 15 years passed away from alcoholism (acute liver failure in 2017 and then her health deteriorated to the point where she died in 2020). The problem is I am only 36 years old, but am unlikely to meet anyone else. It feels like I should be 80 years old, at least. Her memorial was finally this past Saturday, a year and a half after she actually died due to covid halting everything, and I had told myself I was going to end this shitty life before that. So I don't know what else to do now but plan my own end of life.

I posted this in Suicide Support and am posting this here as well as it seems appropriate.

 

[stardust10]

I am so sorry about your parents, I too lost my dad to a heart attack. He collapsed at home and I had managed to resuscitate him until an ambulance had arrived but I lost him anyway.

I also had the responsibility of having to sort out everything, I hadn't had the chance to cry or to grieve, it hit me a few weeks later and was the hardest thing I ever had to deal with.

Take time to grieve its important.

xoxo

This has basically just happened to me and my family yesterday. Lost my dad. No words to describe how I'm feeling rn.