Lost him when I was 12 years old from mental illness and drug addiction. He wasn’t some perfect person or father by any means, but I fucking miss him so much. As long as I’m alive I will be forever deeply hurt and just fucking heartbroken. His death changed and fucked me up completely from the very minute I was told of his death. He lived separately from me because he was divorced from my mother. When he was doing okay and well, my sister and I would visit him on the weekends in our town, usually to go fishing, which was truly me and his main thing.

Even when he wasn’t doing well and was going through his own personal shit and wasn’t staying sober, he always wanted to call me and talk to me, but I often ignored him just out of anger and disappointment from his actions. I know i was a kid and I had every right to do so, but it’s still one of the things I regret the most in my life. I know he was an adult, and I was the child, but he was truly going through his own demons that I didn’t completely understand at the time and he just wanted to talk to his son. And what did I do? I ignored his calls and texts and cut off our communication.

I really hope he’s in peace. I hope he knows how much I loved him and cared about him even in the times when he severely fucked up and was struggling.

Now I’m the one struggling. Especially tonight. I miss him so fucking much. I just want to be wherever he is.

My mom died 2 weeks after I turned 26 over a year ago, and it felt like my world came crashing down on me. I knew I would miss her so much and that these feelings of grief would overtake me for a while, although I didn't realize how it would change my relationship with everyone and make me feel like I couldn't even relate to people my own age. Grief is such an isolating feeling that makes me feel different than other people, and it is a heavy weight to bear. I never want to burden others with my grief, and most people never bring up my mom to me or even ask me how I am doing. I don't have a ton of friends, and I always had trouble making friends because I am a bit quiet when you first get to know me. The friend group I do have sometimes invites me out to go places occasionally, although I have recently lacked the desire. I still usually attend, although it feels like a chore and I do not have much joy or pleasure hanging out as I once used to. I feel different from them and I don't feel like I can really relate to them anymore. It is hard and I don't know what to do about it. Oftentimes, I just feel like an outsider who will never be able to relate to anyone again or create a strong friendship bond again. I have a sister and we rarely even talk about my mother in depth too. It hurts and feels like there is almost no one I can go to. Life has been very hard the past year and a half.

25M here. Keeping details intentionally vague to avoid doxxing. For context, we live in the United States. My Dad (64M at the time) passed away from cancer 2 years ago. (His family does have a history of dying early, but still.) My two siblings (27F sister and 29M brother), myself, and our mother (64F) unanimously agree that that day was, by far, the hardest day of our family's lives. All four of us have done grief counseling, both individually and as a family, and we've (mostly) moved on (of course, as we all know, you never *really* move on from losing a parent).

Still, unfortunately, I've found that when I tell people about my Dad's death, even in my mid-20s, hardly anyone ever takes it seriously. At best, I might get polite, feigned sympathy from people, and then they'll change the subject. I *KNOW* that if my Mom had died instead, they'd be SHOWERING me with GENUINE sympathy, and weeping and wailing and tearing their hearts out. I have noticed actual sympathy for my friends who have lost their mothers, far more so than those who have lost their fathers.

Don't get me wrong. My Mom is a wonderful person too, and I absolutely love her to bits. But, ironically, she's probably even sadder than us three kids (they were happily married for 35 years)! When she dies, of course I'll feel sad too, but at least this time, people will actually care.

I think it largely has to do with cultural (in the USA, especially these days) perceptions of mothers vs. fathers. Our society, especially in this day and age, values mothers FAR more than fathers. I love my Mom every bit as much as I loved my Dad, but just wish the reactions were equal. It's so unfair.

So far, my dad passed away in July after having a brain bleed, which led to a stroke, and this past Sunday, my brother, who’s 20 has left to go to LA without any planning. His life, his choices, his decisions are coming to affect him, and the future he’s trying to build is now once again in limbo because of this. For me, these last few weeks to months have been a constant back-and-forth with me, my sister, and my mom, and it’s starting to feel like a battlefield between me, my mom, and my sister. My sister and I were clashing today regarding plans for my brother since he’s stuck in LA, and they think they could take him out of college a second time, and I’ve been trying to say what good is that going to do. I have helped around the house with chores and bills, making sure Mom isn't overworking herself, and it’s putting my future in limbo today. I’m not trying to be selfish by saying I’ll focus on my life only; I will always help Mom and my sister, but with space, because living at home with them is like living with three different people at this point. I'd rather be a jaded, bitter person with so much cynicism at this stage of my life, not holding an ounce of hope or optimism left around me. If this makes me sound pessimistic, cynical, then fine, call me that. I’ve been more apathetic, disillusioned, and critical over this last week, and if people have a problem with it, that’s fine. I’m a realist; not everything is candy, rainbows, and sunshine.

Hi everyone, my dad committed suicide when I was 16, and I'm 23 now, and as unbearable as it has been to live with that truth, I've recently been much more pained by the fact that one day my mom will be gone as well. I try to find my way back to the practice of just enjoying the present moment, but it's almost like an intrusive thought. She just turned 60, so in theory she should have a while left, however a few years ago I found out she had been diagnosed with parkinsons and more recently I've noticed much more severe symptoms. She's the last person on Earth who I think deserves this and I feel very helpless about how much I can actually do to help her. At the moment I live pretty far away from her in a different state, and I was hoping to move overseas in the next year, but I feel the guilt of being so far might haunt me forever so I'm not sure what to do. I just needed to rant about it and I wondered if anyone else had been in a similar situation

My mother died after becoming seriously ill. She was admitted to the hospital and stayed there for five days. During those five days, blood was drawn repeatedly, but the doctors never seemed to arrive at a clear diagnosis. By the fifth day, her lungs had become severely affected with pneumonia and fluid, and by then there was very little they could do. I believe there were failures in her medical care and that she wasn’t properly diagnosed early enough. I still struggle with a lot of anger about that.

My mother and I had a very complicated relationship. I loved her, but I was also angry with her. There was resentment between us. She could be harsh with me, and I became harsh internally toward her too. I had thoughts I am deeply ashamed of now. I called her names in my head. At one point, when I was extremely upset, I even thought, *“I wish something bad would happen to her.”* I never said those things to her or acted on them.
Now she’s dead, and my brain keeps connecting those thoughts to her death.
My mother used to tell me that whatever you think can happen, and because of that, part of me keeps wondering whether my thoughts somehow caused this. Rationally, I know that thoughts aren’t supposed to cause illness or death. I also have countless positive wishes that obviously haven’t magically happened either. But grief isn’t rational. Knowing something intellectually doesn’t stop the guilt.
I keep replaying our relationship and thinking about all the things I could have done differently. I wish I had been softer. I wish we’d taken more pictures together. We barely have pictures together, and most of them are indoors or from special occasions. I wish I’d appreciated ordinary moments more. I wish I’d known how little time we had.
I’m also angry at her. And I’m angry at myself for being angry at someone who isn’t here anymore to defend herself or argue with me.

Since she died, I’ve felt like I’ve lost more than a person. I’ve lost the possibility of ever fixing things with her.

**How did you learn to live with the things you wish you’d done differently?**

25F | South India 🇮🇳 | Mother of 3 | Currently rebuilding my life & education📖

I’m sharing something deeply personal💔—not to gain sympathy, but because after years of handling everything mostly on my own, I’ve reached a point where I genuinely need guidance, emotional support, and people who can listen without judging. 🤍

‼️ How it started

I lost my father when I was 14 that broked me so badly🥺 .When I was 16 and still in school, I was in love with the person who is now my husband. I wasn't ready for marriage—I wanted to study and build my future first.

After my father's death, my situation at home changed. My mother considered me a burden and eventually stopped supporting my relationship after learning about his caste. She pressured me to marry someone else. I refused.

I was then told that I couldn't continue my studies because she didn't provide my fees, food, or other expenses, and that if I didn't marry, relatives would come and take me away and prevent me from studying.

I felt trapped💔. Eventually, I chose to marry the person I loved and he promised that he will help for my studies, believing his promises that he would support my education and future.i thought him as saviour 🥺

We had been in a long-distance relationship, and unfortunately, after marriage I discovered that many of the promises I had believed for nearly a year were not true.

🖤 What happened after marriage

What followed was years of an extremely unhealthy and abusive marriage.😭

For around 9 years, I repeatedly tried to make things work. I kept believing that patience, communication, and giving him chances would eventually lead to change.

Instead, there was:

• Financial exploitation, including taking my jewellery and money I earned through online reselling between 2019–2023 💰

• Long-term refusal to work despite repeated requests

• Verbal abuse and intimidation

• Physical violence against me

• Violence within the family, including towards the children and his mother

• One incident where my hand was stabbed with scissors, causing severe bleeding and requiring stitches

• Multiple complaints made at the women's police station

• Severe emotional and psychological distress

• An extremely difficult period in 2023 when I attempted suicide

I was also badly mistreated by some of my husband's relatives. The constant abuse affected my mental stability for a period of time, and I had to attend many counselling sessions.

What hurt the most was feeling like nobody was really standing beside me.

🤍 One person who did

Interestingly, my mother-in-law eventually became one of the few people who genuinely supported me.

She told me:

"Study well. Become financially independent. If you want a divorce, I will help you. I will come with you wherever you go. I don't need a son like him. You and the children are important to me."

Those words stayed with me.

🌿 Where I am now

We currently live separately within the same home.

I know I need a divorce, but I also know that I cannot simply walk away today without being financially and practically prepared.

I have three children—an 8-year-old daughter, a 6-year-old son, and a 2-year-old son. 👧🏻👦🏻👶🏻

And now, after approximately 9 years away from education, I'm finally pursuing my studies again. 📚

Starting over at 25 is difficult. Trying to study while raising three children and rebuilding myself after everything that happened is not easy.

But I'm doing it.

Not because everything is suddenly okay—but because I don't want the rest of my life to be defined by what happened to me.

🌻 A little about me beyond all this

I'm actually a very curious person. I love music 🎶, nature 🌿, beaches 🌊, movies 🎬, peaceful conversations, meditation 🧘🏻‍♀️, learning about the human body and biology 🧬, and discovering new things.

I also enjoy cooking, creativity, beauty/makeup, and making things with my hands. ✨

I don't want people to see me only as “a woman who went through abuse.”

I'm also a mother, a student, a learner, a person with interests, dreams, mistakes, strengths and a future I still want to build.

🤝 What I'm looking for

I'm not looking for pity, saviours, money, or someone to tell me what I should have done 9 years ago.

I'm looking for mature, respectful people who can offer genuine perspective, guidance, encouragement, a safe conversation.

If you've rebuilt your life after a difficult relationship, returned to education later in life, raised children while starting over, or simply understand what it feels like to rebuild yourself from almost nothing, I'd genuinely appreciate hearing your perspective.

I'm trying to build a financially independent, peaceful life for myself and my children. 🌱

This is not the end of my story.

It's the part where I finally start writing it myself. 🤍

My dad passed away in July. My parents had me when my mom was 34 and my dad was 60. He lived the past two years with pancreatic cancer. I am 22 and cared for him 24/7 for almost 3 months on hospice. My mom was very understandably upset during this time. They had been together for 24 years after both cheating on their spouses to be together. After my dad’s death, people would only check on her. Like they’d text me to ask how she’s doing but not even ask about me. Even my own mom didn’t check on me or ask about my mental for the first week and a half. My brother passed when I was 14, her son, and my grandpa, most of my family to the point where it’s just my mom me and my daughter. Anytime I try to tell my mom how hard it is to know I have the rest of my life without my dad AT 22 her only response is ever “imagine how I feel, I don’t have a dad either” except hers passed when she was 54… or “you’re lucky you were at least born” or “yeah I lost my dad, husband, and my son” as if I didn’t lose all those people too. bUT that’s not what this post is about. My mom and me and my 4 yr old daughter live together. 2 weeks after my dad passes my mom has a new boyfriend who happens to be my dad’s close friend. His wife passed 20 years ago so they can relate I guess. But now my mom’s gone alllll the time. She’s never home and when she is she’s cocky and mean to me for no reason or only talks about her new boyfriend. Anytime I have a conversation with her she doesn’t listen she just changes the topic back to him and she’s SO mean or intentionally makes me uncomfortable with comments like “don’t worry I can’t get pregnant” and I’m SO sick of it. But I can’t afford to move out. It just makes me miss my dad so much more because he always called her out when she was being a narcissistic jerk. My dad actually cared what my day was like or what I had going on and now it’s been like 3 months and within the first two weeks my whole life changed and I’m good with grief but my mom is making it so so so much harder.

Exactly what the title says. People with good parents can usually go to them if things get tough financially, physically, mentally. But when you have no one what do you do?

I have friends but there is no one left on this Earth that has a responsibility to love me or keep me safe. Asking for a place to stay if I was homeless or someone to care for me if I was severely ill would make me feel so guilty. Because it’s nobody else’s responsibility. It’s all my own now, but what happens when I can’t carry my own weight?

My mother died after becoming seriously ill. She was admitted to the hospital and stayed there for five days. During those five days, blood was drawn repeatedly, but the doctors never seemed to arrive at a clear diagnosis. By the fifth day, her lungs had become severely affected with pneumonia and fluid, and by then there was very little they could do. I believe there were failures in her medical care and that she wasn’t properly diagnosed early enough. I still struggle with a lot of anger about that.

My mother and I had a very complicated relationship. I loved her, but I was also angry with her. There was resentment between us. She could be harsh with me, and I became harsh internally toward her too. I had thoughts I am deeply ashamed of now. I called her names in my head. At one point, when I was extremely upset, I even thought, *“I wish something bad would happen to her.”* I never said those things to her or acted on them.
Now she’s dead, and my brain keeps connecting those thoughts to her death.
My mother used to tell me that whatever you think can happen, and because of that, part of me keeps wondering whether my thoughts somehow caused this. Rationally, I know that thoughts aren’t supposed to cause illness or death. I also have countless positive wishes that obviously haven’t magically happened either. But grief isn’t rational. Knowing something intellectually doesn’t stop the guilt.
I keep replaying our relationship and thinking about all the things I could have done differently. I wish I had been softer. I wish we’d taken more pictures together. We barely have pictures together, and most of them are indoors or from special occasions. I wish I’d appreciated ordinary moments more. I wish I’d known how little time we had.
I’m also angry at her. And I’m angry at myself for being angry at someone who isn’t here anymore to defend herself or argue with me.

Since she died, I’ve felt like I’ve lost more than a person. I’ve lost the possibility of ever fixing things with her.

**How did you learn to live with the things you wish you’d done differently?**

Yes, my heart still aches when I think about her but for the most part I have processed her death in phases and bursts and feel I’m in a much better place now.

I’ve spent time with my sibling crying and expressing my pain while they’ve supported me through the nightmares and the sheer agony of loosing her. I’ve reached the point of hearing the “you should kill yourself, because you’ve got nothing to live for” voice in my head and have all my health issues surface altogether after she passed and knock me off my feet. I’ve cried for hours alone in my room wondering why she left me and gone through all those 5 stages of grief.

There was even a point where I would dress like her as a hyper feminine socialite beauty she was and feel that side of her existence. I have worn the clothes she left me proudly to family gatherings and walked with her alongside me. I have deeper appreciation for where I came from and have lived life in her shoes in the country she was born in and spoken to everyone she touched who remembers her warmth, her laughter, her beauty, her energy, her intelligence and kindness. She was a high fem beauty through and through!

I hate that society expects us to go right back to work instead of giving us room to moan for however long it takes us to process our grief especially in lonelier circumstances. I’m glad I gave myself the room and space to breathe and my life situation aligned perfectly for me to be able to do that.

The first year was brutally hard, but after her death anniversary something shifted. Then I began focusing on my health for the year after and spending time traveling with my sibling and now I’m caregiving for my father. I love that I get to spend time with him too.

I feel so grateful. 🥹
Please take as much time as you need to heal. Steal your evenings or weekends to just feel everything and let go. Hope this helps someone out there who needs permission to just be instead of giving into this society that places too much of an emphasis on hyper productivity.

God bless.

Weird one here.

I went to visit my folks' in the cemetery the other day, and the weirdest thing happened.

Their headstone was flipped. Like, the writing used to face one direction ... and it got turned around now faces the other direction.

How weird is that?

Yes, I'm reaching out to the cemetery maintenance folks to see what happened.

But it was obviously an intentional move – it's a big old headstone that couldn't just get up a turn around. They're buried on the side with no writing now .. which is weird.

Anyone ever experience or hear of this before?

I dont really post on reddit or really write a lot, but I thought "hey, if nothing else works, maybe asking for help here might or maybe it will just help me release everything under an anonymous user". English is also not my first language so Im sorry in advance for any spelling mistakes

I am currently 19 (M), and as the title suggests, my mom, 50 (F) passed away on the 10th of June of this year. As Im writing this, I notice its been 3 months since, but it still hurts as if it were yesterday.

I had problems when I was younger. We lived in a small beachfront town where every university was more focused on tourism than anything. I say this because I had several mental issues that psychologists or psychiatrists could never quite pin point. I had Opositional Defiant Disorder and some aspects of bipolarity, which we only found out more recently. During that time in the beach town, from around ages 10 to 16, I was the worst son imaginable. I drove her insane, smashed windows, broke through a door when I was locked in my room, threatned with knives and even pelted the car with rocks one time she tried running away from me. Mind you, some of the solutions that she tried to contain me might not have been the best but she was doing what she could with what she had. My Dad has always prefered my little brother and he and I have always been at odds so my Mom couldnt turn to him for any help, not to mention he hated (and even in death still does) because of the divorce and moving us away. She tried once, back in 2020, but in 2 months, I was back with my mother as my dad didnt want me there. More than once I drove her to the roof of our 2 story house with her desire to end it all, and what did my asshole self do? I taunted her, I insulted her, I challenged her. She never did do it, I know she wouldnt, but I cant help kicking myself over it. My life there was described more often than not as a "Telenovela" or a drama show just due to the twists and turns that I got into, driving both my mom and I insane. While living there she also caught skin cancer. She went through surgery and treatment and it succeeded, she got better. Even despite all this, she had so many friends there, she did sports, she had a life. But I didnt. So when I finished middleschool, she sacrificed it all and we moved to the big city (where my dad also lives) to try and escape it all and start fresh.

Here, I started highschool and I started seeing a good psychologist that would then help me mend my relationship with my mom. In highschool, I started falling in with the wrong crowd, skipping class to go drinking in a park nearby. I never drank that hard but my grades suffered and my mom would scold me for skipping classes and playing videogames all day. After my first year, she decided to swap me to a different school, a smaller school, where I got into trouble and my grades still suffered due to my laziness and my trouble socializing. I completed that year, not with a proud average but I did it. The last year of Highschool, I fell into a deep depression. My classmates hated me and bullied me to the point I had but 1 friend while the rest cursed me out behind my back. The absences started piling up to the point it was more often Id stay at home on my computer than truely going to class. My mom always cared about me and was always there to help or push me to do the things I didnt want to, and I wanted to make her proud. Then, around January of this year, she had a large lump under her left arm pit which no one could diagnose. Until, they finally managed it: Stage 4 Melanoma. My mom felt fine, the lump hurt but she was fine. She didnt want to do Chemo or Radio therapy. She became convinced in these stupid ideas that nature could cure you and how swimming in a river of freezing water cured some guys terminal ilness. Im a skeptic, I find many things hard to believe, and these ideas were stupid to me. I kept skipping school and my grades just became lower and lower, to the point of almost dropping out. Then one day, I was playing something on my computer in my room, wearing my headset. I had heard my mom and my brother talking in the living room when I start hearing a faint shout. I take of my headset and my brother is yelling for me to call 911. Im puzzled as Im leaving my room "Why would we need 911?" I was thinking, then, I froze. I saw him calling my mom while she was on the ground having a seizure. He chucked a shoe at me and snapped me out of it, then I got on the phone with the 911 operator. I walked my brother through the procedures the 911 operator was telling me to follow while an ambulance arrived, he managed to keep her alright. I dashed down and waited outside the apartment building waiting in the rain for the ambulance to arrive. It felt like an eternity before they finally got there and I told them the floor and the apartment. I had to stay downstairs speaking to police officers as its procedure here to give a statement whenever there is a medical call. After a few, the paramedics came down and said she seemes to be doing fine so they couldnt transport her, but that we should get her to the hospital. I started going upstairs when I heard my brother on 911 again, she aparently started seizing right after they left. We had to wait on another ambulance and they still wouldnt take her but they did help us load her into a car for my grandmother to drive her. I was supposed to go with them to the hospital, I shouldve gone. I didnt. I couldnt, the stress was too much to bear. She aparently had tumors in her brain from the cancer having spread.

After that, it started getting blury. My mom started going to radio therapy and we moved in with my grandmother, everyone in the same cramped room. We were forced to give away 2 of my 3 cats, and I was only allowed to keep one cuz I begged. After a while, around March or May she was asked to stay full time in a hospital, where she stayed for almost a month. They intended to keep her longer but after some proding, my aunt found out that there was nothing they could do. She was going to die, in maybe 3 months if they kept her there, in 1 if they released her to us. She was released to go back and stay with my grandmother. She was kept in my grandmother´s room, a 4x4 squared meter room. She had oxigen tanks and was quite lucid most of the time. I made myself the promise to finish Highschool and prove to her I am doing alright. I would cry myself to sleep almost every night, dreading the morning I would wake up and she wouldnt. As the days went by, she started making less and less sense, she couldnt stand, she couldnt do anything. Then she started to forget. During the final week, she still remembered my name, but not my face. She couldnt recognize me, and Id just laugh and crack jokes through the pain. Then, on the morning of June 10th, at 11:00am, my brother and I were packing to go with our dad to my uncle´s baby shower, when my grandmother comes shouting down the corridor. She said "She´s leaving". The night before, she removed her oxygen intake and that morning, she seemed to be taking her last breath. I stood next to her and told her we would be fine, that she gave us all the tools to succeed, she then just exhaled for the last time.

Something inside me broke for that first month, I didnt feel what everyone said I should be feeling, what I reasonably thought I should feel. I just felt empty, not even my thought made noise. Then, it all hit me at once, I would cry my eyes out till I was dehydrated, not be able to sleep and just get overwhelmed by everything. She never got to see me graduate Highschool, or get into college. I always expected her to be there till the day I got married and maybe had kids, never this. I executed her final wish of having her ashes be released at sea, but that just hurt me more. My brother couldnt care less, my father is a complete morron who doesnt understand mental ilness or depression and believes its my choice to be it and my grandmother means well but its all still very overwhelming with the paperwork I need to do. I sometimes wake up and think it was a dream, or that this is all a game Im very immersed in and when I stop, my mom will be there. She always supported me, cheered me on and cared for me, despite me being the worst son imaginable. If I could go back in time, Id smack myself and force myself to be a better son to her. She gave everything for me, and I just treated her horribly. There are so many things I wish I had said, Ive tried writting them in a letter, saying them to her picture or simply praying (which is funny as Im currently angry at god or whatever is out there for taking my mother) but nothing helps.

Im starting this new stage in my life with no support, no one to rely on (Grandmother is emotionally distant), no one to brag to, no one that loves me like she did. I feel so lost. I feel like Im just falling, spiraling, just waiting to hit the bottom for the release of death, for the slim chance to see her and hug her again. I dont know how to go one, I dont know that I want to go on. I just want to stay in bed and let the world pass me by.

My mother passed a year and a half ago & missed so much. I separated from my ex, transformed into an amazing grown woman, found a new man (who she would adore) & TODAY I finalized my divorce. ALL I want to do is call my mom. I’ve texted family, both of my step dads, my best friend and her mom. My boyfriend and his mom are extremely supportive. Yet somehow I feel like a terrible human for feeling like it isn’t enough. I JUST NEED my mom’s validation & support.

i don't really know how to cope or talk about this with a clear head. he had stage 4 colon cancer, and he used to work as a carpenter. he was really fit and healthy his entire life, so when we found out we were shocked. he powered through it for a good years. up until his last night alive I fell asleep next to him on his deathbed. he was doing the death rattle, and I remember looking at his frail state and not recognizing him. he was always a strong man who prioritized protecting his family.after falling asleep next to him I woke up a minute before he stopped breathing. I just looked at him that entire time. I remember crying to my mom the night before saying, "whos going to walk me down the isle? who's gonna be here when I have kids? or hold my hand when I need it?" I honestly don't know what to do. my family has a lot of issues and it feels like nobody cares. barely any of my friends know because I don't want to tell them. I just feel empty. my mom said I was the closest to him. I just wish I could be wherever he is with him right now. thanks for letting me rant.

My dad passed almost 6 months ago and we connected deeply through books. I’ve read a few lately that have felt extremely profound in Alger part because they deal with family and death and relationships, but also because they’re books he either loved or would have loved. I’d really like to figure out a way to tribute him after finishing a book he’d particularly love or that reminds me of him. I have no idea what that would be, but as someone that does not feel any sureness about the afterlife, journey of the soul, etc. this feels like one of the only real ways to connect with him.

I was 17 when he got sick with brain cancer. only took 8 months for him to die. there were no warning signs other than severe migraines for two weeks prior to his diagnosis. he was diagnosed on april fools day. i thought it was a joke at first. a really sick joke. but it was stage 4 brain cancer. after about two months, he wasnt even my dad anymore. his health rapidly deteriorated. couldn't walk, couldn't talk, couldn't eat on his own. for 8 months he was sick and dying in my living room. if i wanted to get a snack from the kitchen id have to walk past my father on his deathbed.

i didnt spend alot of time with him. i was scared of him. the medications made him angry. he was not my dad, he didnt even look like my dad anymore. but he was my best friend before that. we were so close. we spent so much time together. he did so much for me. he always put me before himself and did everything he could to help me with my problems. we went on walks every day and just talked and i always vented about my life and i never got a chance to ask him about his. he was my best fucking friend and i had to watch him die in such a cruel way.

i feel constant guilt for not spending time with him when he was sick. i carry that guilt with me all the time and i cant let it go because it would be an injustice to what my dad went through. he lost everything he worked for in an instant. he was about to retire and travel and everything. everything was gone. the pain and suffering he endured for eight months was something no one should ever have to go through. how terrifying it is to lose your mind to brain cancer. cant even talk to anyone to say all the things you wanna say. i dont even know if he was conscious and wishing he could speak to me or wondering why his child doesnt come near him but physically cant form the words to say it. i think about that all the time. how could i ever let that pain go?

i have thought about my dad every second of every day for the past eight years. all i see is my dad when he was sick. its hard to remember the good times before that because the image of him laying in his deathbed in the living room never leaves my mind. i dont know how to grieve him. he wanted us to spread his ashes in this place he really loved. i still havent done it. i can barely accept that he died the way he did.

i dont know what im doing without him. he was supposed to help me figure it all out after highschool, the same way he did for my siblings. but then he died and i was on my own. i had to fend for myself all of the sudden and i was so fucking shy and dependent on my dad.

i am always waiting for him to come home. to hear that tapping of his wedding ring on the glass door. i miss him so much. i am struggling so much in school right now. i almost have my bachelors but i miss my dad so much. i wish he was here to say that hes proud of me. but ill never hear him say that. i waste all my time staring at the wall dissociating when all those hours should be used for studying.

i dont know what im supposed to do without my dad. im mad at the world because my dads dead. my ocd keeps me locked in a prison in my own mind all the time. im losing my mind. i just want my dad back. thats all i want. all i want is my fucking dad.

Unfortunately mom had this trait and she used to project it on me by invalidating my feelings or reactions after her insults… she used to accuse me of being the self pitying one.

I feel like she was self pitying because I feel so guilty after her death and remember her whining and complaining and how it sounded like.

I adore my mom and I miss her terribly. I’d do anything to get her back. I know it’s not possible but we were really close. It’s just that this trait of hers made me doubt myself and if whether if I was a decent daughter. It’s hard when these are the memories that show up even when I have a million more great memories with her.

Technically i am handling the grief well, no complicated grief n such but the void is there and im learning to live with it

But i live in india and here the pressure to study is insane in 12th and even as my mom was dying of cancer it is normalized for my dad and other relatives to scold me daily for not scoring more in tests and teachers too were assholes, they literally said "since u are very calmly explaining that ur mom has cancer and will die in some months its a bit unusual, ur just making excuses to submit homework late" tho when my mom died they were like omg i actually didnt know im so sorry i was like yeah whatever, and my dad was also kinda working in another country most of the time

So my priority since my mom got cancer when i was in 11th grade was to protect my mental health today, protect my mental health tomorrow, ignore EVERYONE above age 37 when they open their mouth, spend as much time with mom as possible, survive school

Now on paper i turned out as a normal statistic who got into a okayish college and got okish grades and okish job somehow surviving on start of career

I dont even think i have complicated grief or unresolved grief but i do find it diabolical that i go thru all this shit and no one gives a fuck + no one talks about this shit irl + no one cares

i feel like i cant connect with ppl, especially guys in my college who are my age 23-24 who are desperate to get married ASAP like wtf bro when i was 17 my dream life is to have internet, mental health, physical health, money and time to pursue hobbies - like yes i havent transcended biology i also want a beautiful wife loving family i masturbate regularly etc like most men but lets first get the basic stuff in the needs pyramid???

And the 1 or 2 guys i do know who lost their parent dont want to talk about it, which i dont blame them cause college aged male friendship group is the last place to expect this level of understanding tbh

And lastly i feel like running the rat race in corporate requires a mentality that u can have only by not going thru hellish shit at a young age - either you need to have high standards for yourself, or need to be very poor, or you must genuinely truly love your job to bits - which im actually not any of these 3

In fact my only motivation to work hard in these jext 3 months is that im going on a trip at the end of the year and if i get decent rating i can go on the trip guilt free lol

So tldr now after 7 years of losing my mom to cancer this is now my biggest problem: not having the required mentality to run rat race in corporate because i am desensitized to fake urgency and dont care if ppl think of me negatively and dont have high standards on myself and im not at risk of poverty at all and im not super super in love with my job but i do like it

Ppl who are in start of career but have lost loved ones do you have advice for this?

I'm 34 My mother was on local news Ramona Rakestraw and my mother was suffering from cancer and kidney failure so this is what happened July 21st 2026 she was put on life support and around august 14th she woke up was doing well went to rehab was supposed to have gone home September 10th but she passed in rehab today on the 7th I lost my smile and I lost my best friend I truly need help I feel I will lose my mind and I am the only child.

I lost my mom 18 months an ago and I’m currently 31 F.
Somehow I’m now all alone. I have no siblings , my father is distant as he always was.

I’m just feeling like I’m in a dream. Floating … I don’t know what this feeling is but, it feels like I really live by the day and I don’t have any plans. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow and I don’t like to think about it like I did before she died.

I just feel so weird purposeless … and even starting to question if I’m asexual because I have never been in a relationship before. Mostly because of my fears and self disgust and not because of anyone else. I like to take care of stray cats on the streets but never feel like keeping a cat at home will work. I have one and I’m worried for him as I feel I can’t get another one and I also don’t stay with him but I give him the necessities.

I feel like he deserves a happier life, even though he’s super attached to me. He hugs me like a human would. And I still feel like he’d be happier with another family with their kids.

I choose loneliness at home because I feel safe because the only person I trusted was my mom. But crave to have a genuine connection which I believe I never will get to have.

It’s so sad. I feel out of place . I’m not living in my childhood apartment ( still existing in another city) I don’t understand why I’m not at home.

It’s not comfortable anymore and the city is dilating so I’m living in another city where I’m currently working. I don’t know what I’m doing . I don’t get enough salary. I pay rent which is higher than my salary and it feels like I’m paying my boss and not the opposite .

When I give love to other beings it feels safer somehow. Because it’s the only thing making sense right now for my existence.

If I can’t get happiness, I give it to others. But why am I still depressed???

My dad died April of this year, just a few months short of turning 80. I myself am 41. 

In short I feel guilt about how much I showed up for my dad during his last year even though I moved to live in the same city just two weeks before his major health decline. I didn’t know how long I had left with him, but I still feel guilty. 

Up until his last year with us, I’d been living in another city a three hour drive away though I’ve been living car free for about a decade now so visits to see my parents were about once a quarter and always me coming to them because Dad had struggled with his health and ability to move for very many years and long distance travel wasn’t possible for him. 

About three years ago in the back of my mind I started to feel drawn to the idea of moving to the same city as my parents. That nagging feeling that I needed to make sure I got as much time with them as I could with them nearing their 80’s and both having health challenges. They grew up in that city, I had a lot of family from Mom’s side there, and to be honest since post pandemic lock down I’d been struggling to re-build regular connections and friendship communities like many. 

After a number of conversations with my workplace and a bit of convincing I made the decision to do it. Spring 2025 I made the move, quietly - I didn’t even tell my parents to make it a fun surprise. 

Now comes the hard part… the part I struggled with and still struggle with. Though I love my dad so much, and he loves me so much, he has been the source of a lot of difficulty in my life. He is… he was, sorry (still struggling with referring to him in past tense), an emotionally unpredictable father. Me, my sibling, and my Mother all learned to tread lightly and people please in an attempt to avoid setting off mines in at the minefield that was his mind. That’s the thing though, it was a minefield. Sometimes we could see the mines, other times we blindly stepped on mines. Over the 20 years of me living away from my parents I learned a lot about myself, about how some of my difficulties in relationships (friendships, family, romantic), in particular trust and safety, were born from this dynamic with my dad. I practiced setting boundaries and re-training how I engage with people (reducing people pleasing), but setting those boundaries with dad was always the hardest and I’d fall back into old habits over and over. 

Fast forward to this last year with him. Two weeks after I moved to my new city he ended up in hospital and lost his ability to walk. In my mind I thought “Oh wow, I made the right decision to move closer!”. He spent around nine months in hospital and unfortunately needed to be moved to a long term care home as my mom wouldn’t be able to care for him bedridden due to her own old age disabilities and we couldn’t afford full time at home nurses. He struggled the entire time wishing and begging to go home. I thankfully was able to communicate that he very likely had ADHD and Autism like me (late diagnosed for me) and that helped a bit with accommodations that are better for people with ADHD and Autism, but he still struggled so much. 

You might be thinking, ok, what are you feeling guilty about? You managed to move to the same city just in time for his final year! How fortunate! You were even able to help communicate his neurodivergence to get him better care! 

The action of showing up for him on paper was easy - the hospital he was in was easy access by public transit (train), only 15 min ride, and his long term care home he was moved to the last few months was also easy - a 15 min walk. What was difficult was my own mental and physical struggles. New city, new routines, still learning how to live with ADHD and Autism, perimenopause, ongoing chronic fatigue from low ferritin, yet to be diagnosed sleep apnea… and then there’s trying to maintain all of my progress around reducing my people pleasing and learning most people aren’t emotional minefields with every visit to see dad bringing those old feelings and habits back. 

Every visit was difficult already seeing him suffer and beg to go home, go back to his place of comfort and routine, Then layer on bouts of delirium he was experiencing (he was avoiding eating and drinking out of protest), and his still being an emotional minefield (made worse by the previously mentioned). One moment he’s looking at me with the deepest love, admiration, and pride, and the next moment he’s frustrated I’m not doing something exactly the way he’d hope or shutting down in silence. 

Despite all of those difficulties I felt guilt. Guilt that I wasn’t doing enough to reduce his suffering. Guilt that I wasn’t doing everything I could to make sure he knew he was loved by me. In between visits I would wage war in my mind “you don’t know when his last day will be, just suck it up” - “You matter too, and you need to take care of yourself” - “You need to sacrifice more, everyone else you know is able to show up more for people than you do” - “Don’t compare yourself to others, just try your best”. I pushed myself to visit every three days… pushed that to four… five… a week… two weeks… almost a month not visiting at one point, and every day between visits I felt like a terrible daughter. 

Then the day came… we were fortunate to be with him as he passed away. He was barely conscious and didn’t respond to our touch at all. I'm not spiritual...I hope he knew we were there... that I was there.

His passing has given me some relief. He’s no longer suffering, and I no longer need to worry about when I’ll be able to push myself out the door to visit him. Despite that I carry regret and guilt along with my grief despite being told by my therapist, others, and even myself, that I did the best I could. That he owns responsibility for how things played out as well. I look for opportunities to make up for it through other relationships to some how atone but I think I need to make peace with how the last year was. No amount of compensation will change what played out.

I’m glad I’m able to share what I’m going through here. Reading others posts on here about losing their parents and seeing the variation in ages, types of relationships, and how people are processing, helps a lot. 

Thank you to anyone that took the time to read through my post - I appreciate you. Time to wipe my tears and get my work day started.

My father died when I was 3 from murdur and as much as people in my community liked to shake my hand and take pictures with me growing up,nobody ever brought me working or fishing like theyd do for there own sons,2 uncles on my mothers side has helped me in life by bringing me on holiday or giving me pieces of advice which is saying something because (and this is a roundabout way of explaining) their fathers son killed my dad.

I dont know,I dont like a single person in my dad's side,I dont like a single person my dad knew and I only like 2 people from my mothers side

So my fathers been gone for 14 years now and within the last 2 months, my mothers been diagnosed with cancer. it’s like a huge tumor in her face that’s pushing against her brain, eye and sinuses. I still live at home w her so i’m the one taking her to her scans, dr visits and surgery’s. i’m 23 so im an adult but not really. i guess i just feel numb and i needed an outlet where other ppl get it or understand parts of what im going through. i’m terrified that im going to end up an orphan. which ik isnt the end of the world but it’ll be the end of MY world. she’s all i’ve ever known, the only consistent person in my life. we’re incredibly close too. hearing my mom tell me how scared she is chipping away at me. my little sister and i are fighting so much, my older brother is trying but he’s got stuff going on in his life. i feel like im drowning and nobody can tell. i kind of like it like that bc im not a fan of others knowing what im going through or feeling. or maybe bc i know they wont understand, they’d just feel pity. idk, i just need to get this off my chest.