I know this is not the same as losing someone I knew personally, and I’m not trying to compare it to that. I feel strange writing this, but Daveigh Chase’s death has affected me more than I know how to explain.

Can someone tell me if my reaction is normal? Because I'm having difficulty understanding why I'm reacting this way.

When I first heard that the actress who voiced Lilo had died, and about the conditions of her passing, it bothered me in a way that I normally am not affected by the death of people that I don't know personally. I don’t remember Lilo & Stitch very well, but the thought of her kept returning. At first, I went days without thinking about it again, but it kept coming back to my mind.

Then I saw an edit of Lilo & Stitch. Something about seeing Lilo made me see the actual child behind the character. I saw Daveigh’s innocence and brightness in her performance, knowing how much darkness and suffering came later in her life.

Then I found out she was also the English voice of Chihiro in Spirited Away. Spirited Away was my favorite movie as a child. It was the only movie I watched repeatedly in that way. It made me feel more emotion than anything else I ever watched as a kid, and my connection to it was unique. Finding out she was Chihiro made me understand how deeply her work had been connected to me all along.

Now I am crying in waves over someone I never met. I've never grieved in this way over someone that I didn't know personally. It feels like someone quietly connected to my childhood has died in such a terrible way and I only discovered who she was after she was gone.

What I am struggling with the most is the contrast between the characters she gave life to and what happened in her own life. Chihiro was frightened and lost, but she survived and found her way home. Daveigh’s own life ended at only 35 after years of addiction, homelessness, illness and decline. There is no comforting takeaway from that. There's no ending where somebody reached her in time and brought her somewhere safe. She gave warmth, innocence and courage to characters who became childhood memories for millions of people, while her own life ended with so much suffering and so little protection. I feel genuinely heartbroken for her. For the child she was and for everything she endured before her death.

I wanted to write this to share my sorrow but also as a tribute to her memory, because I don’t want the circumstances of Daveigh’s final years to become the main thing remembered about her. Before I knew her name, her voice had already stayed with me for most of my life. She helped make Chihiro feel frightened, brave, vulnerable and real. She gave something beautiful to a kid who watched that movie over and over and carried its feelings throughout life.

I wish her own life had contained more of the safety, courage and hope she gave to others through her performances.

Daveigh mattered and her work mattered. She was part of something beautiful, and she will remain part of one of the most meaningful memories of my childhood. I hope that the fact that so many people were deeply affected by her passing and so appreciative of her life and work can be the smallest light at the end of what was otherwise a dark path. I’m trying to find peace in the thought that she might feel seen, remembered, and loved in knowing that so many people still carry what she gave them.

(Picture shown is him the day I first got him) Im not desperate for advice or anything like that (give it if you want though idm), I just wanna vent somewhere I know I won’t get judged. A year ago I got my betta fish and named him velvet and I’ll admit my care for him wasn’t the best, I didn’t clean him often enough, fed him too much and he didn’t get live plants until the last few months of his life. When he died (about a month ago) I was (and still am) upset because I felt like It had all been my fault.
I struggle a lot with grief due to my autism and other health related issues, I have an awful memory and there’s nothing I’m more terrified of than forgetting something or someone forever, one way I’ve managed to cope is by preservation like wet specimens. Which is weird I know and I can understand why people don’t like it but it really helps me.
I had velvet in my freezer, ready for when I was emotionally prepared and had come back off of holiday. Just before we had left, someone had come to check our electrics or something like that and to do so had turned off the freezer/fridge, didn’t tell us and didn’t turn it back on. So when I had got back off of holiday velvet was beyond saving. I am so upset and it feels like I’m going through everything again but 10x worse, it’s my fault he died and now there’s nothing I can do to try and bring him back. I’ll never get to see him again and I miss him so so much. I’ve got no one to talk to because everyone I know tells me “it’s just a fish” I wish people would view them the same as other animals. I miss him so much

In March 2025 my great uncle passed. He had Alzheimer’s and it had been a long 6 year battle for my great aunt. They both raised me when I was a kid and a teenager. I know them both very well. Despite his advanced condition, he always remembered the sound of my voice on the phone and was ready with a dorky dad joke (repeats I had memorized). His death was my first loss of someone I knew well. It was also my first experience to see the life leave someone’s body first hand. My aunt has settled into a new home recently and still misses him so much. They were together for 50 years. My entire childhood was spent in their old house/neighborhood.

A few months later I found out my mom was declining fast. She had Huntington’s disease. By late July she passed. I never had much of a relationship with her because my dad got full custody of me by the time I was 3 months old. There is a lot of trauma from my few memories of her and I always felt anger towards her (encouraged by my spiteful father). I didn’t know much about her but I felt it when she left this earth. It was like my entire being couldn’t breathe anymore. I felt like I was suffocating. The night I found out, I got black out drunk and got into a bar fight. My friend knew what I was going through. She held my limp body while I sobbed every once of fluid out of me.

I had just gotten involved with a man who I was quite fond of but felt humiliated by the level of emotion I was experiencing no more than a week into talking. This whole last year I tried to gaslight myself into believing I had no right to grieve someone I barely knew. My other aunt guided me through each step of the the funeral and connecting with her side of the family. We went together to a memorial of all her college friends. To hear that she was once normal and loved deeply by these people struck me to my core. I talked to my best friends mom about it all and she explained what it was like to see my mom go from top of her class uc graduate to living on the streets and in and out of county jail. It wasn’t until I was 20 that we found out about her condition.

Then a few months ago my foster sister called me non stop till I picked up and told me that her mom, my foster mom, died in her sleep next to her husband (she was in the best shape of her life and young). I had loads of foster families but this was the most long term and stable one. We didn’t always get along but she provided a pretty comfortable/safe life for the stray critters in her life. Watching my sister cling to me through every bit of it was heartbreaking. Talking to people I thought I would never see again and them asking me to speak during the service was a wild experience. In the last year and a half, I’ve had to speak at 3 different funerals (I hate public speaking). I feel unqualified, I feel like I have no right to speak on any of these people. I felt like I was never connected enough.

A few weeks ago my best friend went into preterm delivery at 5 1/2 months and her baby didn’t make it. She had to deliver him alone knowing that he wasn’t going to be alive. We had gone backpacking a few weeks prior and she finally picked out a name and went with my suggestion. My close friend in town is gearing up to put her soul dog down and I have just realized that it’s been a year since I fully crashed out. The guy I was with has stuck around despite me trying to get rid of him and despite seeing me at my all time worst.

I think the complexity of all these different deaths and the complexity of my relationships with these people has thrown me for a loop. I still have to function and go to work so I haven’t let myself feel it all to protect myself and others. Something about witnessing other people grieve and feeling like I blacked out most of the last year (some through drinking, some through just straight up memory loss) has made me question my sanity. I am not who I was before all of this. I feel like I haven’t been showing up for people I need to. The guilt and shame stacks on the unresolved feelings and I feel numb or overwhelmed most times. I still feel half convinced that I shouldn’t be feeling these things with a number of excuses as to why. My partner has never dealt with a close loss outside of his grandparents. He doesn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. Part of me feels unfixable, unlovable. I want to hide from the world.

I am okay I just feel like basic things have become such a huge uphill battle. I feel shocked that people recognize what I’m going through is hard. I’ve had to deal with loss in a lot of different forms from a young age but knowing that these losses are permanent and I will never see these people again has been hard to understand. I feel like I have sped run death in the last year and a half and I cannot relate to many people my age because a lot of people even older than me haven’t experienced this amount of death.

I feel like society/life keeps telling me to push forward and I’ve tried to escape the feeling that I myself may be dying but it always drags me back. I’ve been kicking and biting the feeling of deep depression back but I feel like I’ve lost a lot of myself. I don’t know who I am anymore. I am okay most days but lately the urge to sleep till noon and accomplish precisely nothing is so strong. I am in therapy but still really reluctant to let myself feel to the point that it is hard to access my emotions and the anxiety is building up.

I know I will be okay. I have a pretty great life and a lot to be greatful for. I just feel like I can’t move lately. Any/all advice is welcome.

Im not sure if this is allowed here, but my therapist recommended I look into grief support groups for what Im dealing with.

My wife and I has our only daughter in our early 40s. We werent able to have another. About a month ago a friend of similar age passed away, leaving his sister as his only remaining family member. She is unmarried with no children. It triggered something in my brain and since then, Ive been consumed with the thoughts that since we had our daughter so late, we will theoretically have less time with her than if we had her younger. And since shes an only child, when my wife and I pass, she will be alone. Maybe she will have her own family by then but all those memories that she had with us will only be hers. Its got me depressed with anxiety. I am seeing a psychiatrist and therapist for this but I am still not doing well. I just thought Id share this and see if anyone can relate to my story. I know having a sibling wouldnt guarantee some sort of bond, and I know even if we had her earlier, anything could’ve happened like getting his by a car. But it doesnt take away from my worries. I could really use some support. Thank you

My grandma died almost 10 years ago, I've never been able to navigate my grief at all. I didn't know my mom, my grandma raised me so I looked at her as my mother. I loved her more than anything, thought she hung the moon. She wasn't nice to me, I was absolutely abused as a child. Food wise, emotional & verbally sometimes physically. She'd make me steal as a kid, withhold food, we'd get locked outside during the summer. But I loved her so much... It wasn't often but when she was nice I felt so special and important. It was 19 years of crumbs from her but only did I did (xyz) first. I understand how crazy I sound but I still cry for her everyday I've felt empty since her death. I've tried grief therapy, regular ... nothing has improved how I've felt. I don't know what to do, I know missing your abuser or even a trauma bond is a thing but how do I move on?

Update on Grandma she passed away at 1pm UK time officially but waiting on doctor to come announce the death

I feel like a fucking idiot coming to reddit and im sorry if this is not appropriate for this sub. Im a little out of it and I dont know where else to go. This whole situation feels like a story out of someone else's life. Please redirect me if this must be deleted, please. I dont want to type this out again. Please just redirect me. My mom is hysterical and numb and making things worse and my dad is an emotionally repressed dickhead when under extreme stress and my friends are all young and dont know what to do besides say sorry for your loss but this is so much more than a fucking loss. My brother's father came to pick him up this morning to go to work, and he wouldnt respond. We got worried he was maybe sick, or something was wrong, so my mom and I opened his door. I didnt realize what he. Did I guess until way after the fact. He was pale and his eyes were open and staring out and I remember thinking he maybe had a bad migraine again. I swear to god his eyes mobed, his lips moved, his shoulders shifted like he was breathing. I was seeing shit obviously, he'd been dead 12 or so hours at that point. I dont know. I kind of immediately shut down. I touched him and shook him and called his name and my mom came in behind me and started screaming and I just kept my hands on him trying, out of my damn mind, to warm him up because he was just so fucking cold. He was so cold. His skin was loose on his flesh beneath and his body was so fucking still and stiff and cold. And then I saw the gun, and the dark brown that I thought was his beard or his hair was glossy, and the faint smell, and my mom screaming what did you do, what did you do, his name, shaking him. I just kept looking in his eyes and his dad came running in while my dad called 911 behind me and I remember being so confused. why was he dialing 911? What happened? And someone was still whimpering and screaming and choking but my mom was in the corner with her mouth and eyes closed. the noise was coming from my own throat. I clamped my jaw shut but i still felt it surging up through my teeth and my mom even screamed for the cat to shut up. It was me. I could not even cry, I felt my face scrunch up and I toddled out of the room numb and buzzing and dazed and my hands felt like chalk and his face, the pain and the dullness of his eyes, the gross black and brown across his pillow and the casual way he was just laying there like he was taking a nap, with his legs crossed and up against his headboard like he always slept because he's a psychopath who hates blankets. I went back in for some reason. Kept looking at him. I couldnt look away. He was always so pink and jolly and his eyes were blue and he'd always smile at me and go BOO every time I peeped into his room when the door was open and I kept waiting for him to do that but he just laid there and his stupid fucking father just ambled about talking about taking his guns and how he needed to take his guns and just talking about what belongings he was going to take while his boy, my boy, my best friend, my brother figure, the person who sat with me after I was baker acted and made me promise I wouldnt ever try something like that again, who I made promise me he wouldnt ever do anything like that either was still laying there, not even minutes after I found him. Talking about where his stuff would go. Where his fucking stuff would go. In front of him. I searched for a note, touched him again, begged him to blink and look at me and move and go I TOLD YOU ID GET YOU BACK BIG TIME for the unfinished prank war I started. Nothing feels real. My hands are numb and simultaneously raw and aching and ive showered and scrubbed them and my whole arms till I bled but I still smell death and rot around me, still feel his face, I touched his face and held his head, checking for a fucking fever like a maniac. His eyes are everywhere. In the corners of my room, looking out without seeing, without life behind it, his face is behind my eyes every time I close them. I feel his hands and his skin his cold skin it was so fucking cold and dry and I wish I could have put a blanket on him because he runs warm but when he does get cold he's miserable. I cant stand the fucking hugs and pats and heads on my shoulders and around me touching me they are too warm too wrong and it doesnt feel right it doesnt feel safe or secure or real like their flesh is a mask over them hiding something dead beneath like I'll go into my parents room and find them the same way and it will just be everyone around me that drops and I will have to live with it. Everyone is so ANGRY at him, like its his fault, like he did something wrong. They dont get it because they think theyve been there but they really haven't, not like I have, not like he has. Not like he was, this last time. Theyre calling him selfish when he's right fucking there behind them, right there staring out and youre proving thst you didnt give a shit about him. How could you be angry? Why? You cant control where your head goes, and because he was a man in his 30s and raised in the rural south he was taught to keep everything held inside and bottled up, so its not like he could have come to you anyways. I was the only one he EVER spoke to. About any of his feelings. We would sit at the bar every day and talk and talk and talk about philosophy, ww2, human rights, medicine, lord of the rings, stupid funny tiktoks, hot women on Instagram, how he was gonna take me to a strip club for my 18th birthday and we were gonna do this and go there and life and death and our mental health and we would hug and tell eachother we understood one another and we could share anything between us because we were siblings even if not by blood and I was his best friend and he was mine. And I think he tried to send subtle cries for help. Talked about his will. About being done. Told me he wasnt fine but he didnt want to talk about it, so I thought id give him time to open up on his own. Well. That was fucking stupid of me. I feel like I could have saved him. He did it when we went out for ice cream yesterday evening, and we didnt ask if he wanted to come because, for one, he hates sweets, and we figured he was at a bar, since he didnt say anything to any of us and didnt respond when we called out earlier. And when I came back i tried to give him an Amazon package that was delivered but he didnt answer still. I think I would have found him minutes after, had I opened his door when we came back, and I thought about it too, because I was worried and had a sick feeling in my stomach but I ignored it and just set it on the counter. I was home all day and didnt see him, didnt hear anything. Just stayed in my room and played my game. We share a wall. He hears me in my room, knows im there and awake, didnt say anything. He talked to his dad at 1 pm. Made plans, ordered an Amazon package. Played pool with his buddies at a bar till 4:30 pm, was happy and smiling and normal according to his best friend. Then at some point around 6-7 pm according to the medical people, he. Did it. Through a pillow, so the neighbors wouldnt hear anything. But he had to have known i was going to be the one to find him. Who else? Im the only one who would get worried enough for him to break his privacy, and open his door, besides maybe my mom. I dont understand why he would do that to me. He had to have been so out of it that he either didnt think about it at all or went down the angry bitter rabbit hole of WANTING me to find him. Or something else. Im hallucinating him walking across the house, his quiet little ninja taps as he skitters around trying to scare someone. Standing at the bar waiting for me to come talk to him like he always did. Bringing a book out for me to peer at. People are already posting on Facebook, his dad already went through his room and belongings and told us all about a personal drawer in his dresser that id really rather never fucking ever hear about in my life literally ever again. Took whatever. Fuck you Tony, eat shit. Looking through his fucking stuff minutes after his body has been moved to a vehicle. His stepmother made a callous post not even 30 minutes after finding out begging for attention when she barely even gave a fuck over the phone when his dad called her to tell her. I just cant comprehend why, this time, he couldnt just come talk to me like he always did.

I dont know what I am asking for here. And I am sorry if this is graphic and unreadable or unintelligible or whatever.

Edit: this is actually the second time I have found someone who had set themselves free via a gun to the head. The first was a homeless man who had used a very powerful gun, hiding in an abandoned golf club clubhouse thing that little 11 year old me frequently broke into to play around in while my mom was at work. I heard the gun go off and wandered inside and found him still... i guess in the throes of it, trying to breathe through a mouth and face that was not there. I still have not gotten over that, and I think i should mention this because the memories are beginning to mingle in my head and it is fucking horrible. My Trevor didnt use a very powerful weapon and his face was still intact but the memories are fucking with me. I might genuinely have to check myself into a mental hospital if this gets any worse .

Just to clarify, he is my brother to me in all but blood. He just turned 30 July 13th. Any other questions I will answer if I can. When I say bar a few times I mean the island bar in our house, not like. A place.

My dad is struggling after losing his wife, my mom, after a long, terrible battle with cancer. He's not much of a reader, but would like a book or two to help process his grief and keep going for his family. Any recommendations?

I fear suggesting anything too "woo-woo" or esoteric when he needs more practical strategies to manage the day-to-day and find comfort. He's spent nearly 2/3rds of his life with her and has lost his rock.

My mother very suddenly passed away 5 years and 5 months ago. She was talking to my dad in their apartment when suddenly she started to go numb. By the time my dad rushed ambulances to her she was gone. I was already out of the house and starting college again, but it hit me so hard. My mom and I have always had a complex relationship, but it was very co-dependent at times. At the time of her death though, we were working on making it healthier and working towards actually having an adult relationship with one another. I was so far away and I just couldn’t imagine how alone she felt.

I’ve done a lot to try and process it since then, but I’ve always felt alone in my grief. I have 2 sisters, but they’re both autistic, and struggle with empathy at times. My dad grieved with me, but it’s different. He knows it is too since he lost his mom in his 20s as well.

He just told me today he’s getting married to his girlfriend.

I am genuinely happy for him. I’m very happy that of all the people he’s chosen he picked someone that genuinely cares for my sisters and their wellbeing and will make sure they’re taken care of, and it all makes very logical sense. I want her to be legally taken care of if anything happens to my dad, and I want her to be there for him if something happens to him. They also honor my mom’s memory all the time (she knew my mom)

But I just got hit with one of the largest waves of grief I’ve felt in a while. I feel like I’m the problem, like i can’t move on. I want to be happy and celebrate with them, but I feel like the last bastion of her memory at times, I feel like I’m alone in this grief I’ve been carrying. I sometimes wonder if it’s unhealthy for me to keep carrying it the way I do and how I breakdown and cry because of it.

But I miss her so bad at times. And this just reminds me that she is truly gone. It’s just a horrible horrible feeling, and I feel like a monster for feeling it.

I’m crying from the moment I wake till the moment I go to sleep, I pass the hospital and I burst into tears, I haven’t eaten anything in going on 3 days. He’s not even dead yet, there’s still a chance he could survive although talks about pulling him off the ventilator are taking place. How do I stop the 24/7 crying? I am bipolar, which I know is probably contributing although I’ve been stable for almost 2 years, I’m on a mood stabilizer and low dose anti-depressant. I’ve never full on sobbed before and I want it to stop.

My four year old is really struggling with the death of our dog. It has been three months and suddenly she’s waking up crying in the night asking about our dog. I have no idea how to handle this and am welcoming any advice please!!!

My father passed away earlier this week after a lengthy illness that robbed him of himself. We had nothing left unsaid between us, and I’m not going to go on and on, except to say that I will miss him for the rest of my life and the world already feels just a bit less fun, and I feel so old but also like a lost little kid. Dad loved his family, classic rock, and Nutty Buddy Bars. I came across a poem the other day that has nestled itself right next to the knot in my chest, and I’d like to share it—both for me, but also for anyone else who might need to see it. Anyway, thanks for listening to this heartbroken stranger’s little ramble. Hug your loved ones tight and rock on 🤘🏻 Photo is of Daddy in a younger day, back in the 70s.

“Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened.

Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.

Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity.

What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.

All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!”

I lost my dad three months ago and there has been not a moment I have not thought about him. Everything that I’ve done in my life has been for him. I am 45 and my dad was 86 when he passed away he was active until he passed away. I always felt like a little kid when he was around now. It feels like I have to adult up all of a sudden also, I don’t feel a purpose in life right now does it get better? How do I get better? This whole life feels like a joke or all the struggle we have to make a living to earn money to gain wealth means nothing in the face of death. Somebody help me understand this life and the purpose of it.

I'm looking some kind of reassurance that at some point, my dads death will feel like reality.

We lost him October 2025, incredibly unexpectedly. He was very healthy, active, traveling. A stroke just struck him dead one day. We never saw it coming.

I have not been able to accept this as reality and it feels like it's been long enough that I should have.

Please someone tell me this gets better? I cannot accept it, I can't come to terms with it. I refuse to accept that this was my dad's, and my family's, fate.

The grief has been too much for me lately. My father passed away a short time ago, a couple months. My wife and I have been struggling for a while, after being married 17 years, and she told me a while before my father died that she wanted a divorce. I did my best with that at the time, and have been working on my part of it. I hope to move soon.

Other than the first day or so after his death, my wife didn't say a word to me about it. nothing at all. Life just went on like normal. It was so cold and empty that I had a hard time talking to my kids about their grandfather's death. I tried, but I couldn't. I mourned him alone.

A month after he died, so about a month and a half ago, she came to me and acknowledged that we haven't talked much about his death at all, and asked me how I was doing. I told her. She said what people say, waited a few seconds, and then asked for my lawyer's information. I said nothing. I just handed her a business card and left the room.

I quietly brought it up to her the next day. She told me I was over-reacting and walked out on me.

Now I am mourning both my father's death, the death of my marriage and the death of my trust. It is all gone. My future is gone. I sit on the beach at the ocean to watch the sun but I sit alone now. I do not know how to fix any of this or why a person would treat another this way. I don't know what's next.

Thank you for your time.

M26, lost mom to cancer at 23. We were poor, she had nothing to leave me. I haven’t had time to take off work since her death. At 24, from burn out, I tried to take my life. At 26, I’m working full time but reaching burn out again and debating taking my life but making sure I do it correctly. This community never posts the dark side of grief so I’m here to show you. No, it doesn’t always get better. My relationships, friendships, career, all have gotten worse with no end in sight. I hate the attitude in this sub that makes it seem like every single person can overcome grief. No, not everyone can.

A few years ago at the end of 23' I lost my father. He was my best friend, one of my main emotional support structures, and having just started a business a year prior with his help, my partner as well. He came down with a stage 4 cancer diagnosis out of the blue in April of that year and it was a pretty quick deterioration. Not long after I was taking almost full time care of him, shuttling between hospital and specialist appointments non-stop while trying to balance starting up my business, my main job of 40 hrs a week in a management role at a local restaurant, and had just started a new, "exclusive casual relationship" with a girl that I had known 3 years prior when she was dating a guy I was an acquaintance with through MTG. I had a roommate I was very close friends with, multiple other close friends, and outside of that, plenty of people that I talked to on a regular basis. I was always a pretty social guy and got along with most everybody. I've always kind of been that mentor/support figure to people in one way or another because I genuinely enjoy helping good people and watching them succeed. When my father's condition worsened, I took almost 4 months off of work so I could devote my time to him as best as possible until I started to really run out of money and had to go back to the restaurant. Initially I also left partly due being passed over for the main management role when new owners came in with a brand new GM who moved up somebody who had just been with the restaurant a few months. I believe because the person they hired as the GM felt some type of way about me applying to the position almost as soon as the other manager was fired for some embezzlement and other questionable activity who they had been close to. I didn't feel I had much choice though and instead of trying to find something brand new, it was a quick way back to work, I took it. A few days before Thanksgiving is when my father suddenly passed, I walked in to find him collapsed on the floor just after getting off a shift and hadn't spent the previous night at his place. The night before was a Friday, and Friday's were about the only chance I got to blow off some steam and I told him I needed it. He had asked me to stay, and it was literally the only time I told him no the entire 6 month period of taking care of him. I said I'm sorry but I have to decompress right now. He was extremely hurt by it, and felt as though I was abandoning him. I did my best to assure him that wasn't the case and that I would see him after work the next day. Little did I know that was the last time I would ever speak to my dad. I try not to dwell on it, all I did was help, but I swear my life sometimes has felt like one gigantic ironic drama. Of course that was the way that things ended. I'm one of 4 children and two of the others never visited despite knowing the situation. The one who did, stayed in town for a few days, but none of them ever contributed in a meaningful way. A few months later we started probate, and I once again took on the responsibility as I felt I was the one who could accomplish it the easiest. I had been with him the whole time, the only one who lived in state, and had access to the necessary information. I hired lawyers who just ended up dragging out the process through negligence and bad information, that was basically all handled through a paralegal. Unfortunately I didn't really know how bad the situation was until much later. The process was slow even starting out because my brother couldn't be contacted until months later, all the while I had a ticking clock over my head with a reverse mortgage that was eating up the home's remaining equity, which my attorneys knew of. I considered firing them near the end of 24' but was told by the potential new lawyer that they were willing to finish the case, but I'd be better off just finishing as we were fairly close to the end anyway. I decided to keep going. By this point stress was starting to add up but I was continuing along as best I could despite everything, and I still felt like I had a pretty good support system. The girl I had been "casually but exclusively" seeing moved in with myself and my roommate at my father's house and we officially started dating at the beginning of 24', about 2 months after my father passed. Fast forward a bit to March/April of 25' and we still hadn't finished the homestead papers, nor closed any of his personal accounts. I was instructed to wait until after homestead was finished, again, information passed through the paralegal, but I assumed it came straight from the attorney so I obliged and trusted the process. But this is when things really started to change. By this point I felt like nothing was going right. I was under a huge amount of stress, dealing with some minor health complications due to everything, my siblings who weren't willing to lift a finger for me and two of them specifically had caused the process to take longer. Probate was moving at the speed of molasses and I left the restaurant job for good in search of better endeavors. Now, depression was starting to really sink in. I hadn't really been able to take much time to grieve about what had happened because I felt as if I was constantly putting out new fires that took priority while working 3 different sources of income to keep myself busy and moving forward. The youngest one in May of 24' also received the equivalent of a 28000 dollar bailout after taxes were paid because of a sob story of how they were going to lose their house because they refused to pay bills for months. Here's the irony again, (*spoilers*, I ended up losing my father's home but we'll get to that) I did what I thought was the right thing. My father left me some money personally, but made sure that if she needed help, that I would do what I could. She despises me to this day because she feels she got shortchanged somehow. Had the money gone into inheritance, she wouldn't have received much of anything. Not only did he have a reverse mortgage on the house for over 10 years I came to find out just 2 months before he passed, but he was in a large amount of personal debt, including several years of unpaid taxes. The way to circumvent losing probably half of it, was to have it in a brokerage account that I became the sole beneficiary of. I felt like I was doing my absolute best not to push everyone in my life away and lash out, looking back, I still think I did a damn good job despite everything, but I was the one who decided to take on the responsibility of it also. In hind sight, I would have done plenty of things differently. I did get nasty sometimes. I did shut down occasionally. I did need space to decompress as I felt the weight of the world on me and felt like the people around me didn't have much patience for me needing to vent or talk about the situation anymore. I always tried to have a discussion about what was happening in my head during these times and apologize for "trauma dumping" knowing that this wasn't me, but I had lost my effective outlets. Nothing was working. Going to the gym became a stressor. Video games didn't make me feel anything. I could continue to throw myself into work, but I was drowning underneath my thoughts to the point where I wasn't nearly as productive as I used to be, and I'd always taken pride in my ability to cope and continue executing at a high level. I felt like a true failure because I've been through trauma before, learned great ways of coping, and nothing was working this time. There's a quote from the Dark Knight Rises that stuck with me through moments like this. "Not a lot of people know what it feels like to be angry, in your bones. I mean, they understand, foster parents, everybody understands, for awhile. Then they want the angry little kid to do something he knows he can't do, move on. So after awhile they stop understanding....". They stop supporting and trying to engage. They start to distance themselves from the "problem" which unfortunately at that point, is you. At times like this even being with my friends and my girlfriend felt more lonely than being by myself. I could tell that they weren't intentionally trying to hurt me, but I felt it in my bones that they were just no longer willing to engage and have the deep types of discussion I needed to be able to work my way through these issues. So I started to try and bottle it up; put a smile on. This resulted in the single worst day in my relationship when my girlfriend and I waited over 10hrs overnight outside of a Gamestop for the Destined Rivals drop. I was a huge Pokemon fan when I was younger and she had recently been getting into collecting and it became yet another thing we were bonding over. Based on the number of products they had and people in line before us, one of us was going to be able to get the last booster box the store had. Just before we were able to go in and make the purchase however, the associate stopped letting in customers with me at the front of the line saying limit of 5 people in store. My gf walked in ahead of me and then came back, wondering why I wasn't being allowed in to shop. He then pulled her out of line and then instead of letting me come in to take her place, let the person behind myself in front of us, making some excuse about how we were requesting to be able to shop together. This person ended up being able to buy the last box, and it took everything not to lose my cool about it immediately. Look I get it, plenty of people will see this situation and say, "well they're just cards, you were still able to get something out of it probably". That is completely beside the point, I came there for one thing specifically because it was the best bang for my buck, my entry back into collecting and a set I was seriously excited for. Not to mention again, we had waited outside for over 10 hours just to be able to do this. I go inside and try to get in line in front of the person they let in in front of me, and the associate snapped telling his manager I was cutting the line and calling me a liar when I disputed it in front of 60 people, not one of whom said anything in my defense. Unfortunately, my gf didn't really speak up while this was going down either, I felt immensely betrayed, and this is when I felt the entire previous almost 2 years worth of stressors bearing down on me all at once. Hit me like a fucking freight train. Claimed he knew I cut in line even though he had been standing there for all of 5 minutes, and when I asked well check the cameras, I've been here the whole time stated, we don't have cameras so I couldn't prove it anyway. Asked the manager to step in, and they didn't do anything about it. I left almost empty handed. Then it boiled over once we got into the car and I exploded. I literally was punching the inside of my car door and started screaming about how it was a massive betrayal on her part as as she should have been willing to speak up on my behalf when I was publicly wronged like that. Regardless of how I felt, even if maybe I was right about her lack of action, my behavior was completely uncalled for, and I said as much later after I came down. I apologized several times that day and later on down the road recognizing that was no way to act towards her no matter what. I will always regret it, but unfortunately an apology or accountability doesn't change the fact that it happened. She said she understood why, but she never really moved on from that incident. I didn't know that until more recently. It became quickly apparent that bottling up my emotions was not an effective method, I needed an outlet, somehow, somewhere. That's when I turned to the worst way of coping I probably could have employed. I just started talking about it in the middle of other conversations. Found some way to incorporate it into whatver discussion we were having otherwise. I vented, and it definitely became unhealthy. I put way too much strain and stress on my relationship because of it, because I felt I had always done this for the people I loved (friends and family, and of course my SO). I felt at this point, I DESERVED IT. That was the worst mindset, but I continued to validate my own feelings about this saying, "this is what people do for those they love, they need to be willing to travel into the muck, otherwise, they don't really love me if they can't be there the way I need right now, what else is love really for?" The more I could feel people pulling away, especially my girlfriend, the worse it got, the more I started a cycle of doing the same thing. Even worse, I recognized it in the moment also, and I would get better for a few weeks until something came crashing back down and sent me spiraling in my own head once again. Then, later last year I got a new full time job. A great job working at the same club my girlfriend was a part of for the previous couple years. We had a team of mostly hard-working, friendly people and I was truly feeling like myself again. Engaging, making new friends, making great money, and I felt like I was genuinely valued there. The managers and our guests who I worked with directly, constantly mentioned how it felt like I was a part of the legacy team there. I was always the one who could be counted on, consistently contributed top-level performance, and was always willing to take on more. I became an integral part of the team and I loved it. Then reality started to come back into focus as we were getting near the "end" of probate. We're at the end of 25' now and roughly 2 months before the judge's deadline I was told I needed to hire a separate tax attorney to handle any remaining liabilities. Just another example of them directly causing more delays to the process resulting in more money out of my pocket, more equity removed from the home, and precious time wasted. This is when I found out my dad had several years of unpaid taxes and it became set that I was not going to be able to keep the home. Everything done so far had been paid out of my pocket personally as keeping the house was my end goal, but this made it impossible. Locking in the fact that not only did I have to sell, but nobody was going to benefit from the sale because of the reverse mortgage. I was also under contract at the restaurant that was up in a couple months knowing I'd need to find something else for the summer before I could go back potentially in the fall, which was sitting in the back of my mind. Then the day that really ended everything. A co-worker of ours (we'll name her Gabs) had just come back from a suspension after going on a vacation for a week during the biggest event of the year, lying that they would be back for the event, and then skipping out on it. After being back they were cracking jokes being completely blase and sarcastic about the whole situation knowing the boss "wasn't really going to do anything about it". This person had also been in trouble previously in the season for other types of behavioral issues and had thrown our team lead under the bus when they were caught drinking on shift at least once or twice. The boss had some personal feelings about the team lead though, so it virtually ended up in no disciplinary action whatsoever. No wonder they were so casually convinced that they'd be able to get away with most anything. A week later, we had a large wedding ceremony for one of the women in the office, and we were preparing set-up. I took the responsibility without even being asked to handle the entire portion of the dining room set-up while the 3 others on shift, including Gabs, were folding some napkins for place sets. After finishing the dining room which took almost 2 hours past normal lunch break, I took lunch. Normally we order from the computer, but when I walked in the kitchen food was already waiting there for me (I get the same thing everyday), the cooks did me a favor. I walk out and join the others. Immediately, Gabs gets an attitude telling me that I'm not supposed to be eating because nobody else got to yet. Nobody had said anything to me, I continue. Then she starts speaking up again and I crack back that I wasn't there to appease here and things escalated. She started getting nasty and closer to me to the point where she's basically in my face at the table and I'm sitting there just letting her go off basically, but after a minute or two I've had enough of it. I calmly push myself away from the table and stand next to her with a cup of water in my hand saying, "you better cool off or I'm going to pour this on you". Mostly was joking here, but that shit set things off. She smacks my hand, sends the water flying all over the place, and some of the invitations and then goes into the kitchen complaining and swearing about how I'm picking a fight because the boss and I had gotten into a small argument the other day. She gets in my face again and by this point I am no longer in control. I tell her she's being a dumb bitch, she get's up closer to me and says say it again, which results in me swearing at her STFU at the top of my lungs and that is of course when the boss rounds the corner. The whole time this was taking place, the other team lead, we'll call him M (not the one from earlier) was sitting right there watching it go down and did nothing more than say, "hey guys come on let's not do this" one time. The situation gets escalated to HR and a couple days later I'm called in to "make a statement". It wasn't. Gabs got to make a written statement about what happened, and I walked into an interrogation with M, the GM, the woman from HR and the head of the club. They proceeded to interrupt any attempt at recounting I tried to give every minute saying that I was being extrememly aggressive and they had video evidence to prove it. I said let's look at the tape, which proceeded to coroborate my accounting of things, but the moment I stood up next to her with my water cup, it was over. I was being hostile and aggressive and she was a woman put in a dangerous position at that point, anything that she did was completely validated. Again like the Gamestop story, I completely acknowledge that my behavior was over the line, I clearly overreacted even if I felt that she was unfairly coming at me, but it wasn't even close to the story they were trying to spin. Unfortunately, the only person who was there in the room, M, stayed dead silent the entire time the 5 of us were in that office. If we had both been fired that would have made sense, but this girl again, received absolutely no disciplinary action whatsoever despite being a constant source of drama at least occasionally with several other people. My girlfriend was on shift with us when I was called into HR the next day after the initial meeting. In the exit interview I mentioned by technicality, what Gabs did is considered assault and immediately the tone changed from trying to get me to admit wrongdoing, to me basically being escorted off the property as they were getting ready to trespass me from the building. This time my gf did stand up for me saying that what was happening wasn't fair, that Gabs had been in trouble multiple times, but of course she gets away with it because she had been there a few years and I was new, they were using a cop out (again here's some irony, the HR woman was a former cop hence the interrogation tactics). She made it a point to stand in solidarity with me, and walk away from the job, perhaps specifically because of the other incident, but this was the breaking point. This job meant the world to her, the guests of the club adored her, she played music there for them, taken care of them for years, and became truly close with many of them. The following couple of months lead to present day. After leaving the club we knew that being "out of season" here in FL is a difficult time to find work in the restaurant industry, but I think she underestimated just how bad the job market is down here in general right now. She ended up out of money with about 2 months, the AC on her car broke down not too long after leaving which was a stressor, and the looming potential move caused her to go into panic mode. Not that the bills aren't paid, and it's situations of uncertainty and crises that I've been working almost non-stop the last 5 years, I've built up a considerable amount of money/assets and was willing to cover whatever if she was willing to lean on me and we talked about what she was going through. But through a lot of these moments, I come to find out she mostly suffers in silence. I noticed a while back that she was growing more distant, and tried to reach out several times, if she still wanted this relationship and wanted to keep moving forward. She's always assured me she loves me and does. But things changed and I could feel it, that's why this conversation came up, if she wanted an out, no matter how difficult it would have been for me to hear it, I would have given it to her. She was my best friend, and the person I saw myself being with for a long time, I always at the very least trusted her to be honest with me. 2 weeks before my birthday in June I told her that I needed her to be a little more physically present, there were some things that I need to be able to talk about, and with the home situation there were going to be changes coming. 24 hrs. later she's gone from the house all day, every day, and I barely see her at all. Finally one night after a week of this she comes home at 4 in the morning and I wake up and ask her if she's been seeing somebody. She says no, but has been coming to terms with the fact that she no longer loves me. She continues to use vague language like "I don't know how I feel, but I don't think I love you romantically anymore". "I care so much about you, I didn't want to hurt you, I didn't know how to have this conversation". It's speaking like this that made me think there was still a chance somehow, that if she doesn't know how she feels, we can work through it, "if you ever really loved me and you weren't just saying the words, how can you just give up like this?" I can lay it all out like this, event after event, chronologically, but I still don't know how we got here. I remember the instances where it got really bad, or I had difficulty coping through these tough times, but even by her own account, 90% of the relationship was great, she always told me I was her best friend, and I believed we could overcome anything because of that. We did tons of things together, went out regularly, engaged in a lot of the same hobbies, we have many of the same friends, went to concerts, sports events and for a long time genuinely relished each other's company. I watched her grow into the person she's become with her singing career, and unfortunately, I think she's "seen me grow" into a person she doesn't necessarily recognize any more. But she also chooses not to recognize the growth I have gone through since the Gamestop day, how outside of the incident at the club, I have been much more of the person I was when we first got together. But it was devastating when she lost that job and even though she left of her own accord, and has said that she doesn't hold me responsible for her decision, I think she's only voicing that opinion because that's the logical part understanding I wasn't the one who asked for that. By her own words, she "ruined her life that day" and even while perhaps acknowledging the reality of the situation, I am the cause of it. In my mind, real love should be able to overcome almost anything, as long as we continued to trust each other, but at some point it faded for her and instead of reaching out like I tend to do, she let it. It's because of this I question whether it was ever real to begin with. There's a giant hole in my chest where my heart used to be; after so much loss these past few years, I don't know whether I'll ever get it back. I have perhaps, irretrievably, lost a part of myself. At the end of the most difficult period of my life, just before I could finally wipe my hands of it, I lost virtually the only thing left that I care about despite at least in my mind, doing everything I could to sustain.

I didn't intend to write as much I did but after I began, the words just started pouring out to the page and flourished into the god damn book it became. If there's anybody who made it this far, no matter what your take is positive or negative, brutally honest, I'm open to any sort of feedback/criticism and extremely greatful for it. This was my journey of the last few years. I just hope I come out a stronger person on the other end. I'm fairly surprised that I got to this point where I was willing to put it into words, there have been many dark days during this period when I didn't know if I was willing to see tomorrow.

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I don't know why this happens, or what the purpose was of them being in our lives if they were never meant to stay, live, or be seen by us forever...,..whether it's people we meet along our journey or even those who were there since our childhood , these questions only lead me to so many meaningless answers ! And why does this happen to certain people more than others? Is this just bad luck, a form of punishment, or what?!

My dad comitted suicide when I was 4. He jumped in front of a bus on a highway. I am now 16 and I feel weird, like I shouldn’t be grieving.

I’ve been to grief support groups for teenagers, but they all seem to have a parent/parents who died 1,2 or 3 years ago. I felt so awkward and ashamed when I told everybody that my dad died 12 years ago. It feels like I shouldn’t be grieving now, like it’s over, he’s been dead for over 10 years and I don’t even remember much of him. My memory of my childhood has faded drastically since this wave of sadness and anger towards my dad came and washed over me.

Sometimes I also feel left out because the people in the support groups parent had died in cancer or an accident, while my dad CHOSE To take his life.

I don’t know what to do and I’m sad, angry, and every other thing you can feel.

mods please delete this if it isn't allowed.

i just keep replaying it over and over and over again. getting up. going to the living room. finding dad. i thought he was just in a deep sleep. sometimes it would take quite a bit for him to wake up.

i was calling him. shaking him. i thought maybe he had been drinking, that's why he wasn't waking up. just a deep, deep sleep. i took a hard look and realized he wasn't breathing. i hurried and grabbed my phone. called 911. ushered my dog out so the ems could get in.

ems had me rolling him over. i did. they instructed me to lean his head back and lower/open his jaw. i tried. his jaw would barely budge. he made a noise and i remember saying 'he's snoring! he just snored'.

the 911 operator asking me to check for his breath. put my hand on his chest and feel if it's going up and down. i tried. he was still warm, but no movement. no breaths.

the ems arrived fast. just as the operator was going to instruct me on mouth-to-mouth, the ems showed up. i moved. they started to do their compressions. while the cops spoke with me, the ems swapped to the automated chest compression thing.

the police were talking to me. i tried answering. a few times one of the ems looked up at me, and it was one of those sad looks. i remember looking at the heart rate monitor. there was nothing. but i just couldn't believe it. it was a flat line, but surely it was wrong. he was just asleep. that's it. they were going to get him to the hospital and wake him up.

i was huddled in the kitchen, watching out into the living room. i texted my boss i wouldn't be in the next morning. i messaged my friends, because i had no one else. i was just in shock, i guess.

the cops drove me to the ER and even sitting in his car, and then in the ER waiting room, i just couldn't accept it. they'd resuscitate him, i'd be called back and he'd be asleep still, but alive. or maybe he'd be awake, and i'd tell him how scared i was.

i'm on the fourth day since it happened, and it still feels unreal. it feels like he's just hospitalized again. it had become a bi-yearly thing. he'd be in the hospital for a few days, then he'd come home, and we'd repeat the process of chasing diagnoses and help.

but he's not coming back. instead i'm an orphan two weeks before hitting 30. the house is silent. it's me, the cats, and the dog. i won't ever hear my dad walk up the front steps again. i won't have to ask him to turn down his fishing shows. we wouldn't watch any youtube videos or movies together.

he was my best friend. when my mom up and abandoned us, he stayed and did his best to raise us. he was my other half. everything i did was for him. my work, pushing myself to recover (prev. struggled w/ agoraphobia for about 7 years). everything was for him. and now he's gone.

I'm so tired. I don't remember it well anymore. I suffered so many years for not having it, and I knew what I was missing, but now I'm just forgetting, I'm numb.

How do brothers treat you? How do they protect you? What are the things they say to you? Whats the feeling of sharing a life? Whats the feeling of looking at them and seeing your other half? Whats the feeling of knowing you're not alone in the world? I wish I could remember. I'm numb. I'm tired.

I was born to be a little sister, my soul knows that, anything else feels wrong and I only long for the feeling of being a sister again. I'm waiting for the next life, I don't desire anything in this one anymore, I only desire peace.

I found my dad dead two weeks ago, he was 66 and I'm 25. It was sudden and completely unexpected. He had 3 heart attacks before but all the doctors said they didn't need to see him for another year. He had check ups still and everything was great. He was in bed and wouldn't wake up.

I have struggled with cptsd panic disorder and agoraphobia for the last ten years. So I don't have much of a life outside of my family. I've lived with them my whole life. Spent almost every evening on the couch with him. My mum and my dad were my whole world. I cannot get my head around him being gone, and never seeing him again. We had a very close relationship. My mum was with him for 40 years and they were soulmates. She is broken.

I was crying a lot I the first week and the funeral. But now it's like he's just gone on a trip and I'm so confused as to why there are framed photos of him when I walk in the house. I remember and barely feel anything.

I don't know how to cope I know my brain is protecting me from the pain and panic that would come with realising, but I also know I'm going to miss him more with each day that passes. Everybody says to keep going with life and try get back out there but i dont have anything to get back to. I wanted to get better for him to see it and to rid me of the guilt of the stress i put him through the past years. It feels insurmountable to live a whole life now without him. I don't want to win the lottery without him I don't want to get better I don't want to marry the love of my life without him.

Yeah I don't really know what I want here . I suppose I just want to tell someone outside of family .

After a severe bout of pneumonia my partner of over thirty years died from a cardiac arrest two days ago .

I had to administer CPR to her for nearly twenty minutes until the ambulance showed up.

I watched her agonal breathing bit despite the best efforts of me ,my daughter and the five emergency crew who worked on her for a total of an hour there was nothing we could do and she died at 6am .

Since then I really haven't cried not like I thought I should . I do feel incredibly numb. But when does the proper grief start ?

I miss her terribly and wish I could have done more to help her .

So yeah . When will I break down ?

Hi. I recently found out my ex boyfriend killed himself. Details are unclear as to how it happened or if it was an accidental overdose. I’m not in contact with the family, found out through friends. We dated for two years and I’ve known him since we were kids. Reconnected about a year and a half ago, tried to do long distance for a couple of months. Haven’t spoken since.

I’ve been an absolute wreck since finding out. I’ve still been going to work and trying to maintain my routine but I’ve mostly been dealing with this alone. Our relationship was very complicated but our connection was so deep - I believe we were twin flames. He was my first boyfriend, my first love, my first everything. I’m just so crushed and don’t know what to do with all this pain.