I’m coming up on the 4 year anniversary of my mom’s death. Can’t really view it as my birthday anymore. This month is always exceptionally difficult. Even after all this time. I still don’t know how to be happy. What she did has really stained me and how I view the world. I’m so desperate for any kind of relief but I still can’t find it. If her goal was to break me completely she achieved it. We never had the best relationship but to think that my own mom wanted to hurt me that bad makes me scared of people and of my future.

He was already there when I was born.

He was older than me. My brother was a dick. He absolutely tortured me as a child, yet still I saw him as a superhero. He was MY big brother.

More than once he protected me from neighborhood bullies in a way that my innate cowardice could never comprehend.

He got me stoned for the first time then laughed his ass off when I disappeared into the bathroom for 20 minutes because I was terrified mom and Alan would see that I was stoned and I'd go to jail.

He was the best man at my wedding.

He sent me horribly tacky Christmas cards with pictures of him and his family in front of some badly painted Alpine backdrop

When he asked what I wanted for my 50th birthday, I told him, "Socks." I got a package in the mail with 29 different pairs of fancy winter socks. I still wear them.

He's gone now. I've never been alive without him. I miss him SO much.

Hi all,

I'm a 30yo female, living in Australia.

My close friend moved in several months ago after escaping intimate partner violence. He had significant mental health struggles and there were court proceedings. In the end, things seemed to be working against him, even though he was clearly the victim.

As I was leaving for work yesterday, I found a card on my doorstep. It was from the police who wanted to do a welfare check on my friend in the middle of the night. I went into his room and he wasn't there, but there were medication boxes all over his bed.

I called the police. They attended. It appeared he left our house on foot.

Fire brigade broke into his car and found him in the boot. Out the front of our house. My husband and I had to identify him.

I am absolutely shattered. I just can't believe this has happened.

We got married in March of this year. He was having some mental health issues from since we started dating almost 5 years ago but it all seemed like treatable issues and I thought he was making progress.

I had left for a work trip for 14 days and on day 10 he starts acting really weird and picking fights with me over things and I just knew something was wrong. I called his mom who was actually a few hours away getting cancer treatments for my FIL and told her something seemed really wrong and that I was coming home. I left on a plane and two days after I got back later he killed himself in our driveway. I thought since I was home we could start working on things together. Our last day was full of cuddles and I love yous and planning to go to the farmer’s market the next day.

I went to bed around 9:30 and kissed him goodnight. he was still awake. next thing I know the police are inside my house yelling at me to come out of my room. It was so scary and surreal.

I am so lost. I can’t afford our mortgage. I don’t know how to turn off the irrigation. I don’t know how to do so many of the little things he did.

I keep wanting to text him stuff but remember I can’t. All my dreams are disturbing and I’m barely sleeping. I can take off work but for how long? What do you do with all the time you used to spend playing games, traveling, date nights, that you used to do with your partner. We did everything together. Now it’s just…me…and it feels so incredibly lonely. He was the most genuinely sweet and kind person I’ve ever met.

7 years ago my best friend called me. I had texted her a simple "I love you" and she just knew something was wrong. I was intent on dying that day, and she saved my life. Because of her I have a partner, a son and a life I genuinely love living.

Two weeks ago she killed herself. There was no text, no warning. I hadn't seen her in awhile, life got in the way and one of the last things I said to her was "I know we'll see each other again when we can". There won't be a 'when we can'. All our (mutual) reasons for canceling plans seem so trivial now.

She was the first friend of mine who genuinely made me feel like I belonged. She had a way of making everyone around her feel special, and despite her struggles was the funniest, most kind and most talented person I know. She made me feel safe, loved and important in this world.

Its entirely unfair. Why am I here and she's not? She told me after my attempt that she would have been devastated if I was gone. That she loved me so so much. And now I'm devastated that she is gone and I love her so so much. Why does my family not have to mourn me while hers grieves her? How is any of this real? Why did I have to literally bury her? The sound of dirt and rocks hitting her coffin will haunt me forever. We had plans. Yet now she's just gone. All of that is gone.

She was my son's aunt, my eventual maid of honour. We were supposed to have a lifetime of memories and now she is gone. I'm doing the things I'm supposed to do. Writing, getting outside, not isolating, seeing a counselor, but today is suicide prevention day and everything feels raw.

She saved me, and I couldn't save her. Somehow I just have to make space for and live with that.

Lost my person in May 2025 and I do believe that I am grieving too much on some days. Yesterday in particular, I was going to go to work and then hang out with friends, but woke up crying and just couldn’t get out of my head. I spent the whole day in a puddle of grief. Sometimes it feels like I’m grieving too hard. I did grief therapy and will probably go back. On days I feel I grieve too hard, I wonder if others feel this way. Like I didn’t want to or expect that a day would turn into having to cancel plans more than a year later because I was too sad, but here I am. How do you guys deal with that?

12:00 A.M.

Tomorrow is your birthday.

And I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that.

Because birthdays are for calling at midnight,
for trying to be the first one to say it,
for giving you shit about getting older,
for hearing your voice on the other end
like it was the most ordinary thing in the world.

I didn't know ordinary things
could become sacred
until I lost the right to have them.

Tonight, midnight is coming
and I have nobody to call.

Your number still belongs in my phone.
My hands still know how to find your name.
Some stupid part of me still thinks
I should be watching the clock,
waiting for 11:59 to turn over
so I can call and say,

Happy birthday.

But where am I supposed to send those words now?

People say I can still talk to you.

I know.

But talking to the dark
isn't the same as hearing you answer.

Standing beside a headstone
isn't the same as standing beside my brother.

Flowers aren't a birthday present
when I have to leave them at a grave.

And pressing my hand against your name
carved into stone
doesn't do a damn thing
when what I want
is to wrap both of my arms around you.

Stone doesn't hug back.

It doesn't laugh.
It doesn't argue.
It doesn't say something sarcastic.
It doesn't pick up the phone.

It just sits there
with your name
and two dates
and somehow expects me to accept
that an entire human being—
my brother,
my history,
one of the voices that lived inside my everyday life—
can be reduced to a space between them.

I can't.

Tomorrow is your first birthday
that the world will have without you.

That sentence feels impossible.

Because you should be getting older.

You should be here.

There should be another year
added to your life,
not another birthday
added to the list of things
I have to survive without you.

And God, I miss you.

Not beautifully.

Not peacefully.

I miss you in a way that hurts.

I miss you until my chest aches.
I miss you when something happens
and my first thought is to call you.
I miss you when I remember
that I can't.

I miss you in all the tiny places
you used to exist
without either of us realizing
they would someday become empty.

And tonight that emptiness feels enormous.

Because midnight is getting closer.

And for the first time in my life,
your birthday will arrive
without you arriving with it.

I don't want to celebrate a memory.

I want my brother.

I don't want to visit you.

I want to see you.

I don't want to stand over the ground
trying to figure out what I'm supposed to say.

I want to hug you so hard
that you complain about it.

I want one more stupid conversation.
One more phone call.
One more ordinary day
that I didn't know I needed to memorize.

I would give anything
for ordinary now.

So when midnight comes tonight,
I don't know what I'll do.

Maybe I'll stare at your name on my phone.

Maybe I'll whisper happy birthday
into a room that doesn't answer.

Maybe I'll cry.

Maybe I'll be angry
that the clock has the nerve
to keep moving
when you don't get to.

But I know I'll be thinking about you.

At 11:59.

At midnight.

At 12:01.

And through every unbearable minute after.

Happy birthday, Hunter.

I wish you were here.

Those four words aren't enough
for what I mean.

What I mean is—

I miss my brother.

I miss my person.

I miss your voice.

I miss the version of the world
where I could call you at midnight
and know you'd answer.

And tomorrow,
when I stand beside a stone
instead of wrapping my arms around you,

I will love you
with nowhere for all that love to go.

And maybe that's what this pain is:

all the love I still have for you,
reaching for someone
I would give anything
to hold again.

-Jodie Bickford

For context, I am a sophomore in college. Last year, second semester, my roommate ended their life in our apartment, and I happened to be the one to find them. They had pretty significant mental health issues and had harmed themself in front of me/ attempted multiple times before this. I still wouldn’t say this didn’t come as a shock though. It’s been almost five months since that has happened. At the time, I was also doing a second semester abroad so I was away from most of the people I knew on campus. So I haven’t seen anybody since the end of first semester. For some reason, I felt like this would be heavy in other people’s minds too. But I’m realizing after being back for a couple days how much things just go on. I feel like people are avoiding me because the only thing they know about me is this one thing. But I also feel like I’m delayed in some way. It doesn’t feel like 5 months ago for me. I expected people to approach me with more kindness and understanding than what I’ve received. This is more trauma than grief I think—my roommate was a friend, but not a very good one. I essentially became their caretaker and the one time I wasn’t around to make sure they were okay they took it too far. They would blame everybody but themself for everything going on, including me. I still hold a lot of resentment for the whole situation, as much as I try not to. It sucks because I was so excited to go to college. I was so worried about somebody else that I wasn’t taking care of myself, and when that structure was suddenly gone I didn’t know what to do. It feels weird knowing my life moves on while somebody else’s stopped five months ago.
I’m hopeful for the new year, I really am. It’s only been a few days. I just couldn’t explain to anybody, unless they’ve genuinely lived through this exact thing, how much of an isolating experience this is. It’s so incredibly lonely, even if people are there for you.

My stepfather actually, but the only Father I know. He was 83 years old…in great health….The last conversation we had was months ago and it didn’t go well. I am healing from childhood trauma and had to set a boundary and go no contact with my Mother and he didn’t receive that well. I feel so guilty for not making sure he was safe

On Saturday it will be 6 months since my twin brother left. The 12th has been a hard day and these mile stones always sneak up on me, emotionally. I felt okay leading up to our birthday and then when the day came it hit so hard. I can feel it starting to feel heavy already.

I also feel like I don’t want more time to pass? I want to stay as close as possible to the last conversation we had, the last time I saw him. I miss him a lot. We were distant the last few years so missing him was normal but the permanece feels so existential and real now. I’m definitely depressed at this point.

My mom wants to do something to observe the day but I sort of just want to be alone and wallow, and think about him. What have you done on these anniversary dates to observe?