Death generaly makes me so fucking angry. I'm angry, and the anger only seems to grow with me as i age. I am so terryfied of death and i cant seem to move on with my grief and fears of mortality, i dont think exists anything that truly helps. Any resources about death are preachy bullshit that feels like it wants to deny how terryfing it is. What do you mean i have to accept it, no shut up i dont want to hear that. Truth is we are cursed with ability to think, yet we are but just animals with bodies made of flesh. Do anyone else feels the same? Im tired but dont know what to do with that

I lost my eldest brother to suicide a little over 6 months ago. Every day still feels miserable and tainted with this lingering grief. We took all the pictures of him down because my step dad couldn’t bare to look at them, we even put his urn in a separate room that nobody really goes in. I can’t help but feel like it’s a disservice to his memory, every time I talk about a memory I have with him my mom shuts me down because it’s “too sad” to talk about him. I just want my big brother to be remembered. I get really sad sometimes when I think about how alone he must’ve felt in the end and I’m not sure how to express it without upsetting my parents.

I would talk to my other older brother but he was the one who found him and I feel like voicing my grief is selfish in a way. Since I didn’t go through the trauma of having to see that. I’m just so lost on how to get this grief out without sounding selfish or triggering someone else. I go to my first therapy appointment this upcoming Monday but I highly doubt it will help. It’s just a general free therapy service so I figure they’ll just sit there and say the same bullshit they tell everyone else.

I’m looking for some genuine advice, particularly from people who have experienced profound grief themselves or have supported someone through it.
One of my closest friends lost her mother unexpectedly a few months ago. We’ve been friends for over 20 years, and I love her deeply. I know this loss has fundamentally changed her, and I understand that grief isn’t linear, pretty, or convenient. I also recognize that the person she was before losing her mother may not be the person she is right now, or ever again.
Since her mother’s passing, I’ve tried really hard to be a safe place for her.
I’ve read multiple books about grief, including It’s OK That You’re Not OK, because I genuinely wanted to understand how to support her without imposing expectations or trying to fix something that cannot be fixed.
I’ve called, checked in, sent messages, and tried to let her guide our conversations. When she wants to talk about her mom, we talk about her mom. When she sends me difficult things, including her mother’s autopsy report, I listen, acknowledge how painful it must be, and try to validate whatever she’s feeling rather than offering unsolicited advice.
I don’t expect her to ask about my life, reciprocate the same emotional energy, or be the friend she was before. I recognize that she’s surviving something unimaginable.
But here’s the part I’m really struggling with.
She’s become incredibly mean toward me.
Not just distant or withdrawn, which I would completely understand. She’s frequently snappy, defensive, dismissive, and sometimes downright hurtful. And I feel terrible even writing that because I know how much she’s suffering.
I think one of the hardest parts is that I’ve started feeling like I genuinely cannot say anything right.
If I share something happy, I feel like I’m met with irritation or indifference. If I share something difficult, I don’t necessarily feel met with compassion. If I express a concern or establish even the smallest boundary, I feel like I’ve done something wrong.
For example, we recently had plans to spend time together, but she’d been sick. I gently expressed that if she was still feeling unwell or potentially contagious, my husband and I really couldn’t risk getting sick right now. I emphasized how much I loved her and wanted to see her, and that it wasn’t personal. But afterward, she became noticeably cold and distant.
It might sound like a small interaction, but it’s become part of a larger pattern where even the most ordinary conversations leave me questioning whether I’ve upset her.
It’s gotten to the point where I find myself analyzing my words before I say them, wondering how they’ll be received. I feel like I’m constantly trying to soften my language, explain my intentions, and make sure she knows I’m coming from a place of love.
And somehow, it still feels like I’m getting it wrong.
I know this might sound dramatic, but sometimes I genuinely feel like she hates me. And that is such a painful thing to admit about someone I’ve loved for more than two decades.
I don’t actually believe she hates me. I know grief can manifest as anger, irritability, and emotional withdrawal. I know she’s carrying pain I cannot possibly take away.
But understanding someone’s pain doesn’t necessarily make being on the receiving end of their behavior any less painful.
I’m also navigating grief and some difficult circumstances in my own life. I would never compare our experiences, and I don’t expect her to have the emotional capacity to support me right now. But I am realizing that I have limits, too.
I’ve spent years in therapy learning how to establish healthy boundaries, and I’m finding myself in this uncomfortable position where protecting my own emotional well-being feels like abandoning someone I love.
My therapist has encouraged me to create some distance, stop initiating contact for now, and allow my friend to come to me when she’s ready.
Intellectually, I understand why. Emotionally, it feels awful.
I know she’s already lost so much, and the last thing I ever want is for her to feel like she’s losing another person because her grief has made her difficult to be around.
But I’m also starting to feel emotionally exhausted by our interactions. I miss my friend. I miss feeling comfortable around her. And I miss being able to simply exist in our friendship without worrying that something I say will be taken the wrong way.
I also want to acknowledge that some of the defensiveness in our friendship existed before her mother’s death. I think grief has intensified certain dynamics that were already difficult, which makes it even harder to know how to navigate this fairly.
I keep coming back to one question: At what point does understanding someone’s pain turn into accepting behavior that hurts you?
I don’t want to make her grief about me. I don’t need her to be okay. I don’t need her to be cheerful, grateful, or emotionally available. And I certainly don’t expect her to prioritize our friendship while she’s trying to survive losing her mother.
I just wish I didn’t feel like the very act of being myself around her was something that irritated her.
I’m trying so hard to be a safe place for someone I love, but I’m beginning to realize that I no longer feel emotionally safe in our friendship.
And that breaks my heart.
I’d really love to hear from both sides.
If you’ve lost a parent or someone incredibly close to you, did you find yourself directing anger toward the people who loved you most? Did you recognize it at the time? What did you need from your friends, and how would you have wanted them to approach something like this?
And for those who have supported someone through devastating grief, how did you balance compassion with boundaries? Did you ever need to create distance, and if so, what happened to the friendship?
Is giving someone space sometimes the most loving thing you can do, even when you’re afraid they’ll experience it as abandonment?
I love my friend, and I don’t want to give up on her. I’m just struggling to figure out how to keep loving her through this without losing pieces of myself in the process.
Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read this. I genuinely want to understand, not judge.

After 2 years… DOGGIE VERIFIED GREIF!

I studied with them and they knew me before. On social media I posted about my grandpa's loss with my tribute arts for my grandpa. And none of them said or did anything. I felt so heartbroken and almost felt lonely that they maybe hate me or just don't wanna have anything to do with me.

I didn't message any of them for anything. But like all the classmates that I once knew, not anyone of them show any support is making me really broken

\long post, please do not ask for more details or context\

2026 has legitimately felt like a 10 month long gut-punch.

My friend passed away in May. She was so funny and smart and authentic, but like myself she had her own struggles. We talked to each other about everything, made cynical jokes and sent each other stupid instagram reels. We hadn’t seen each other in quite some time after I moved away, but I finally got myself an apartment that was much closer to her and we had started discussing plans for her to visit. I was so excited to finally see her and catch up with her and just have each others’ company.

The second day in my apartment she mostly let me vent or tell her about or show it to her. Even though it had almost no furniture in it I was still so happy to call it mine. That same night I had fallen asleep early, woke up to a confusing text from her, responded, and ended up falling back to sleep. No response.

The next day maintenance was at my door bright and early (8am) to redo the floor in my bedroom and were there an entire workday. I texted her all day about it and then sent her a picture when it was done. No response.

The day after that she still hadn’t responded to me. I was awake at 5am because it was my first day back at work. I was panicking at this point because she has never left me hanging like that. I texted her one more time telling her if she didn’t respond I was going to start looking for phone numbers and emails for people to check on her. Again, no response.

At this point it’s full-blown panic. I know something is wrong. I start looking through our messages and find her landlord’s number and text it. I go online and find the person who I believe is her therapist, I email AND call them. I find her roommate from her instagram, I message that person too. The supposed therapist calls me and tells me legally they cannot disclose whether my friend is their patient or not, but will take the appropriate actions should she be.

Eventually the roommate texts me, I believe she got my number from the landlord. She tells me she’s worried and the police have been called. I ask if my friend is okay, roommate says she does not know. Hours later I received the news, my friend had passed away. I left work immediately.

I call the detective who doesn’t say much and doesn’t need anything from me. I never hear from him again. No new information has been shared, and it’s been 5 months now. Coming up on 6. I’m not sure I’ll ever know what really happened, and I am only left with what I personally believe is the reason she passed away. I don’t want to share that here though.

It really rips me up inside that I didn’t just call her. Even though the text didn’t make sense, I should’ve realized then that something was really wrong. We never called each other but I regret so much in that moment that I didn’t do it anyway.

I just hope that wherever she is, she knows how much I cared about her and valued her friendship. And that her silence was enough to ring the alarm bells in my head.

I still cry about her and text her phone, I still send her instagram reels. I had instagram memorialize her account so that it will never be deleted and no one will ever be able to log into it and those who love her can continue to message her or reminisce about her.
Myself and some coworkers from a job we shared with her even had trees planted in her memory as she loved to travel and loved nature. It seemed pretty fitting.

I miss you, S. I’m so sorry we didn’t hangout and form new memories. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up the phone and call. Since you’ve left this earth I’ve realized to just DO IT; make the phone call, make the drive regardless of how long or if there’s traffic, tell people you love them every chance you get, never give a lame, bullshit hug (30 seconds minimum), and so much more.

I’m going to keep going in honor of you. I’m going to improve my life and know that if you were here I’d have your support. Honestly, I probably do still have your support, I’d like to believe that anyway.

I posted on here a few years ago when my mom got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer, and she passed 6 months ago. I knew my family wouldn’t be there for me as they’ve never really liked me for some reason. My aunt tried taking the money my mom left me and i kind of freaked out at her for it. and she proceeded to say terrible things to me and my grandma has sided with her and i now have no family at all left. the only person i know that would stand up for me is my mommy. i tuned 23 2 months after she died and i feel very helpless and alone in the world. i would give anything to talk to her one last time or hug her. i really thought my family would ease up a little bit on me after she died but i was wrong. does anyone know any way of finding comfort when you lost everything in a very short period of time. I put what my aunt said for reference i hope that’s okay.

It's 8:30pm. It's dark and cold outside. I stood outside staring at the stars thinking of her for 30 minutes, wondering if she's out there looking down at me.

We met 40 years ago and fell in love. We were 14, young and stupid. When we graduated from high school, we were inseperable. But by that fall, life pulled us in different directions - Me to college, her to seek a job two states away. We tried to make it work, but it just didn't.

We kept up over the years as best we could. Marriages, kids, divorces.

Social media reconnected us. There was still a spark. But, we were both married, so we kept it all 'friendly'. We talked, texted, shared. I spoke to her weekly, sometimes more often. She was still a wonderful friend, we knew each other well. We both wanted there to be 'more', but life was complicated. So, we were happy to remain friends.

My first wife died in 2016, suddenly. She was there for me. She held my hand as I buried my first wife. She was going through a divorce...would this finally be 'our time'. Turns out it wasn't. Things didn't align; her life was complicated and I needed to finish raising my own kids. Still, we remained friends.

I'll never forget the day I found out she had cancer. Spring 2023. I sat down and cried. I couldn't imagine my life without her in it. As she battled cancer I was there for her to guide her. She would send her medical reports to me and I provided her guidance, feedback, encouragement. She fought harder than anyone I've ever seen fight cancer. It almost killed her, but she beat it. December 2024, she was cancer free and ready to resume life.

Then, April of this year, it came back. With a vegance. I couldn't get to her side in time. I wanted to be there. Life was again complicated, busy...unforgiving.

I'll never forget the day she died. I 'felt in my spirit' she was leaving. I was camping. I somehow knew to go hiking alone at around 2pm. While on top of a mountain, at 3pm, I stood and said a prayer for her. I cried. I knew she was gone...somehow.

Later that weekend, I got the news from her daughter. She had died at 3:10pm that day. I cried myself to sleep.

A few weeks after her passing, I made the drive and laid flowers on her grave. More tears.

I think of her often, how much I miss her and how close we came to figuring out 'us'.

There's no one I can tell without making them upset or jealous.

I'm in mourning...that's my confession.

This is the first picture I took w my father. I met him for the first time when I was 34.

My mom and dad hooked up while they were in their early 20s. She was stripping at a club and he was actually the bartender working that club.

My father was not ready for children. Especially understandable w a stripper he didn’t even know. They had been dating for only a few months.

This infuriated my mother. When I was 3 months old she became a full time sugar baby and moved me from NY to FL to live in a condo on the beach that one of her “clients” owned.

That “client” became my unofficial stepdad. Never there emotionally, but he was a good man and financially supported both my mom and me through college, buying us cars, ect. He’s still a good man but emotionally he’s incapable of meaningful relationships. I believe he’s on the spectrum.

Anyways. My mom would always trash talk my real dad. And through out the years, my real dad would try and make a relationship with me. I didn’t understand much then. Or the importance of having a real father in my life. She would push him away in sorts. Call him a sperm donor. Question me, why I would even want to talk to him.

Life went on. When I turned 18 my dad sent me a bday card. Telling me he loved me, and at any time when I’m ready- I could contact him.

I brushed it off. I was busy w college and partying and had still not understood the importance of a father figure. Besides, my mom would always make him seem like this terrible guy. But every time during my childhood, the few phone calls he had, were very good. He seemed nice, smart, funny, even successful in life.

Fast forward to me at 25. Now I was a father. I started thinking about my father more in more. We had lost contact over the years and I decided to reach out.

We re connected. It was great. We would have great conversations and talked like we were best friends.

I met him and his family for the first time. I had a step brother and sister and step mom. They were a happy family.

Things got bad for me however. I became alcoholic during Covid. I’m still fighting the addiction. It prevented me from traveling and seeing him. He had planned a trip to Nicaragua - just me and him. I was so alcoholic and anxious i couldn’t bear myself to travel. Non the less function as an adult.

My dad battled Leukemia for 10 years. Never bitched about it. Never really complained. He was at peace.

He lost that fight 3 days ago.

His brother told me the news. I’d just spoke to my dad 2 weeks prior. We all knew his life was ending soon. He didn’t sound well at all. And he’d exhausted all medical treatment routes.

So. I learn my dad just passed. I grieve. I wait a day to tell my mother. I wait a day because I know how she is. And how she would react.

I told her the news. You could hear the joy in her voice. She insinuated he was in Hell. This obviously upset me.

She knew I was upset. She started sending me texts, gaslighting me. She managed to make this whole thing about herself.

I grew up with a lot of depression and anxiety and mental issues. Later on. As i mentioned. I became alcoholic. She blames all of this on my dad.

Now. I’m here alone. I have no real family other than my son who lives in another state. I was a single parent for the first 5 years of my son’s life. Covid happened and I sent him with his mother across the country She had a very large family and support group. Schools were closed and we sent him to a private school that remained open during Covid. I attribute this event of losing my son to part of my alcoholism. I was a single parent for 5 years because my son’s mother relapsed off opioids and heroin. She’s done a 180 and is doing great now.

I still get my son for the whole summer and holidays. We have a good relationship. But he’s not here living w me.

I just. Idk. I’m lost right now. What became grieving turned into hatred towards my mother. She was not the best parent growing up. Not the best at all to be honest.

But yea. I’m 37. I live in Daytona Beach. A rough town. All my friends all pretty much dead from drugs and alcohol. Or they have moved on elsewhere with their families.

My dad just died and I have no where to vent but here. On the internet.

I talked to my stepdad about my father’s death. It was literally a 2 minute conversation.

I haven’t been happy in a long time. And one of the few only ppl I could talk and laugh w is now gone. And I have so many regrets that i didn’t spend more time w him.

my online boyfriend died 3 years ago, and since then, I haven't been doing well. his death has left me paralyzed. I didn't even meet him in person, but we used to call and facetime all the time. I love him so much. And I can't get over him. I tried, really i tried. But no matter how much I try getting over him and moving on, he'll always come back in the back of my mind. When I'm alone with no distractions, he'll be there. Idk I tried talking to other guys but no one compares to him. No one loves me as much as he did. Please I don't know what to do. I just love him so much that I can't get over him.

Hey guys,

My brother unexpectedly died on June 6th, and I feel like I haven't been the same since. Today I found out my (ex) boyfriend of a year cheated on me because I've been "distant" ever since my brother died. I gave him the option to break up a while ago because I realized my grief was probably a lot for someone else to deal with. I guess I'm posting this because it already felt like I was going crazy and barely hanging on after my brother's death. I feel like me grieving is burdening everyone now. Do you guys ever worry that you're burdening everyone else?

It’s been 8 months without my dad. I wish he never loved me like he did. This would be so much easier. But I have to live like this forever? With this anguish? With hating everything we did together because I have to do it alone? Every Christmas ad on tv makes me cry (beyond that October is not even finished with). He made life lovely and worth living. Idk how I will survive without him.

Writing this from the emergency room where my dad just had his second stroke in a month. It seems his body and mind are giving up.

He’s a complicated person and we’ve never had much of a relationship. He had an extremely difficult childhood and it showed up as alcohol abuse, mental health struggles, and emotional distance.

For a long time I resented his inability to see and love me. In my younger years I imagined the laundry list of failures I’d thrown at him on his death bed. I looked forward to the moment when he would be gone and we’d no longer need to walk on eggshells. When my mom would not have to live under his thumb.

But honestly it’s been far more complicated. It’s been sad to watch the decline. To see his memories slip away and speech garbled to the point of silence. It’s also so tender to see him, a man who raised us to be fully independent, receive care from others. It’s been beautiful to see my siblings, all our kids, and mom surround him with support — even when he was resistant.

And, it’s been an eye opening look into how broken our systems of care have become. Reliant on extreme medical intervention and medication that often delay the inevitable and tank quality of life. The costs are staggering. It’s shocking and infuriating.

Anyway, he’s chosen DNR and it seems like he’s close to the end. I just want peace for him.

What was your experience like as your parents declined and how was it different than you imagined?

(First Reddit post, apologies for the novel!)
Hooo boy... I've heard Reddit can be a good place to get honest advice, both comforting and constructively critical, so here goes.

I'm F/30 and lost my mum to lung cancer seven months ago. I had to witness her screaming and begging in her final moments, which has been incredibly difficult to process. A month later, I also suddenly lost contact with some close family members, so I've experienced a lot of loss in a short space of time. (Can explain further if needed). Thankfully, I do have a brilliant support system around me.

I'm now in my second year of uni. Somehow, despite everything, I did really well in my first year of Game Art, but this year I'm struggling massively with motivation. I am so, genuinely passionate about this course, yet I've been blaming myself for being lazy, but I've started seeking therapy (although I may have to wait up to three months for the help I need).

On top of grieving, the course itself has changed considerably. Two of our three beloved tutors have left, so next semester's structure is uncertain, and we're all adjusting to current changes in teaching. Our new concept art tutor is lovely and talented, but they're also finding their feet in the role.

Right now I'd be happy to just get a pass this semester, but it all feels like an awful lot to manage and what abudance of creativity I had last year, has almost diminished.

I should also mention that I'm pursuing assessments for ADHD and autism, although neither is formally diagnosed yet. I've already had an ADHD assessment rejected once, and when professionals recently asked why I hadn't followed up on it, all I could do was point at laugh at myself. 😂 BUT I feel this should be aside the main point, if that makes sense?

TL;DR Has anyone else been through grief while studying, or struggled with motivation when university itself feels so uncertain? Can anyone help me, please?

Any advice, reassurance or constructive criticism is welcome. Thank you for reading ❤️

My mother, who was my best friend, my rock, my cheerleader, my person, passed away suddenly 5 days ago. I was out of state on a trip she had encouraged me to go on so I wasn't even able to make it back home everything happened so fast. I didnt really get to say goodbye to her or to hug her or hold her hand or kiss her or even hear her voice as she was on a ventilator and again I wasnt able to make it back in time. I had talked to her just a couple of hours before and then she was gone. I'm not sure how to move forward. The pain is so deep I've never felt anything like it before. It literally steals the breath from my chest. My whole body is screaming, I just want to wake up from this nightmare. I miss her so much. I always thought we would be little old ladies together and we would die around the same time if not the same day. Ive always had my mother every day I spoke to her and now its been 5 days Ive been on this earth without her. Nothing is helping. I cant eat I want to sleep nc that means im not conscious but I dread sleeping bc I know for a split second when I wake up I dont remember then it all comes smashing back down on me and I die all over again. She was my whole reason for being. I was even designing my house with her in mind so that one day she would be able to live with me instead of being placed in a nursing home. I'm so lost and nothing I do makes anything better. I'm not even sure why Im writing this. Her name was Jennifer. She was funny and witty and so kind. So very kind. She loved steam punk and art deco and the colour purple and beautiful brooches with sparkly gems. She loved German Shepherds and she knew all about herbs and canning and how to darn socks. She was so talented in her quilt making. She worked tirelessly making them for people for free. She loved fall and winter the best. She took care if me and my siblings along with her younger sisters and she was the best mother anyone could have ever asked for. I know everyone says that but she really was. She loved train rides and the northern lights she always dreamed about seeing them but never got to. She never knew a stranger and she loved to laugh esp at cheesy b rated old films. I love her and I miss her and I dont think anything in my life will ever be good again. If you made it this far thank you. ​I don't know what to do or how to move forward now. It jsut feels like a never ending sea of pain and sadness.

I lost my older brother last month unexpectedly. I’ll be 18 tmrw, my golden birthday. My grief has just been getting worse after the first 2 weeks
, like I had a false flooring of security and confidence that’s shattered under me. Now having to turn the first age he’ll never see me as is hitting hard. I’ve tried everything to distract myself from the loss, not even drinking numbs me enough anymore. I’m scared of what’s next, and I don’t know how to live without him.

My dad died less than four weeks ago. It was a long few years of suffering and hospitalizations that left me in an hyper vigilant state as one of his primary caregivers (along with his wife). He and his wife lived two minutes up the road from my family and i, so I was the one going over in the middle of the night when a crisis happened to help them get my dad to the hospital, and I would be there to help advocate for him.

Now that the roller coaster of his illness is over, and there is this nothingness, I’m overwhelmed by the profound loss of someone that meant so much to me. All the stress of the last few years has now given way to a deep void and sadness.

Further complicating the grief and adding a layer of trauma, my dad died by MAID and since he didn’t want nurses in her home at the end, and our state allows family to mix the cocktail and hand it to the patient, I was the one who ended up doing this for my dad, so his wife or my younger brother wouldn’t have to. I didn’t realize the complicated toll that would take too. All I can describe is horror at mixing the the drink then handing it to him and seeing him pass. To have had that role with my father, it’s hard to process.

I have three young kids. I wasn’t doing great the past few weeks, but I was staying afloat, and this week I have crashed out hard. My husband has been a saint, but he has to go back to work now and I feel like I’ve already asked too much of him- he’s been amazing this past month and half as my dad entered hospice then after he passed. I feel alone and like I’m expected to just return to normal now. Parenting is hard, socializing is hard, getting this done around the house is hard (I am a motivated, organized mother normally and I adore my children- but right now its hard having to care for them and manage their emotions while I feel so broken inside myself). Why am I crashing out so much right now? Will this get better? This can’t be my new normal I have so many depending on me.

Ok. So hi everyone. So this is raw and probably wont paint me in a good light. Ok so backstory:

Im 22F. I still live at home with my parents who have been married for over 25 years.
My dad is…he’s had a hard life personally. Grew up in the 70s, undiagnosed dyslexia, put into “the thick” classrooms and called stupid by teachers. His dad was verbally abusive. And this has manifested to him now being 53 and since i was a teenager, having no self worth. He is diagnosed depression and anxiety, he had anxiety induced seizures (used to be 10 times a day as a kid but once he got a diagnosis and other changes in life, i can’t remember the last time i saw him have one); multiple medical issues etc etc.

When i was 15, i got home from school. My mum was alone and sat me down. He worked in a shop at the time. Was seen on CCTV leaving mid shift after clearing the painkiller section. My mum found the open pills in a nearby field. He was eventually found, stomach pumped, survived. He claimed he did it, “because i love you so much and i fail you”. I was upset but i was angry. I didnt wanna see him that night but i did. The next couple weeks, we had the crisis team, he claimed “im glad im alive”.

2 days before my 20th, he had a job interview, it went wrong so the self pity started. “Im a failure. Im stupid. Im good for nothing. You’d be better off without me. Youd be fine i promise”. He fell out with me because for the first time i spoke up and told him to get help (after his attempt he went to therapy and then abruptly stopped, “its stupid it doesn’t work”. We dont know what happened or why). I had to make him pinky promise he wouldnt do anything.

Eventually he got a new job, was actually coming home happy. Then it got hard. Colleague drama. Then last week happened. I dont know the full extent but hit rock bottom again. The self pity. My mum texted him to remind him to book time off for a holiday next year, he replied “ill be honest i wont be here next year. I dont just mean work”. He didnt talk to me for 6 days. I stayed out of it but i think he was ashamed. Then had 2 days where we were good again. He has a job interview next week and was even considering not going and just not letting the colleague drama affect him (they basically called him lazy which is far from true, theyre just jealous he got a better role,but then the self pity comes into play again).

Then yesterday. He came home. Has quit his job. Didn’t tell us. Just handed his 4 weeks in. Told my mum she’d be better with him gone, he’s a failure and he’ll move out if she needs. They talked. He went to bed. Went to work today. He came home. And i eavesdropped.

Essentially telling my mum he doesn’t wanna keep hurting her and he is, that he wants to die, that he’s a failure and stupid and good for nothing, that we’d be fine and better without him, that she should divorce him. She stated she doesnt want to divorce him but (and i couldnt hear properly so i am assuming bits) i think she gave him a year. Basically claiming i dont want to break this family but i cant do this for another 30 years. She told him if he dies, great he’s dead, me and her will never get over it and will hurt us forever. He was sobbing.

She told him to look into neurodiversity (he is the poster child for ADHD/autism but again, 70s being told youre thick, he doesnt understand it so he doesnt believe he has it…that its an “excuse” and “some people are just stupid”. I think i have undiagnosed adhd, he just jokes im lazy. He just doesnt understand but doesnt care to understand because he views it as another thing wrong with him). She also told him to get help etc.

Now my title. When i hear stories of suicide. Im empathetic. I am GENUINELY a very understanding and empathetic person, because ive been through so much growing up, i can see all sides and sympathise.

I understand someone being in so much pain, they think the world would be better without them. I know they think theyre doing the right thing for everyone. I know they think no one cares. I know its selfish to stop someone by making them feel guilty by saying “but how would i feel?”. I know its a disease and i know they cant help it and they are in so much pain. I know. If its anyone else, i hope they get help and if its too late i hope they rest in peace finally.

But. Having first hand experience. As an only child. I am angry. I am selfish. Im hurting. Im furious. I hate him for what he’s doing to me. He is in pain i know, but he wants to kill my dad. He is wants to deprive me of a future with him. He wants to never see me get married. He never wants to meet my kids. Never wants to meet my husband. He wants to make my mum a widow. He wants to leave us with his mess. He wants to die and give his pain to us. He wants to put us through more trauma, especially my mum. He wants to break this family apart, whether that’s by divorce or suicide and it will happen if he doesnt get help, and im not convinced even if he does, that he wont kill himself. I dont believe, and havent for 8 years, that he wont do it. I think he will. I cant see him living another 15 years. I wish i could NOT be selfish, i wish i could understand but its my dad. I need my dad.

Everyday im scared when the front door shuts. When he’s home alone. When he goes to work. When he goes on a walk. Im scared one day my family will be seperated. Im scared one day ill have 2 homes, or a door that never opens, and i know if divorce happens and he’s alone and im not at his, its over. Im living constantly with this weird, almost anticipatory grief. Ive had multiple deaths in the family from cancer. Its similar in a way, just more angry. I know their deaths were coming but i didn’t know when. With my dad, it sounds awful, and i DO believe suicidal people can get help (hence why i so strongly want him to) but i think with him, its almost inevitable. I just don’t know when. He’s dying from a mental illness opposed to a physical.

It’s selfish and wrong and i know that. Its about the suicidal person and how dare i make it about me. But im just a 22 year old that needs her dad and he could deprive me of that… and i dont know how to help. I dont think i can help. We’ve tried but ultimately its up to him. We havent spoken today. Probably wont for another week. It’s so awkward in the house. Everyone knowing somethings wrong but nothing to say. Me and my mum are fine but insee her, alone in the day happy, walking on egg shells trying to be normal in the evening. Our relationship is a broken mess. And i try and brush it off and say “whatever happens happens, im not living my life in fear”… but thats a lie. Im terrified and im fucking furious.

I guess im writing this to vent of course, but also i do think there needs to be a bigger discussion (alongside the discussion of suicide and those suffering) about the others. The ones left behind. The ones dealing with the suicidal person. The emotional torment, the fear, the anger, the hopelessness. Not to overshadow the main issue, but just a small conversation highlighting the pain others go through. I couldn’t find anyone talking about it. The phrase about thinking of others i understand is selfish and bad taste for the suicidal person to hear, but i do think there is some truth that we as a society dont think we should acknowledge because yes, someone wants to willingly die and take their life and that takes priority absolutely.

But before that happens, and during the fallout and aftermath, we need to acknowledge the pain the ones who love the person suffering is going through. We acknowledge it when someone has a terminal illness, how hard it is on the family. Its something else entirely hearing your dad say “i want to kill myself because youd be better without me”.

Again, just to round up, i AM sympathetic and i know im being a selfish bitch. But i need my dad. I dont want bury my dad in my twenties. And i think that should be okay to be angry and selfish at.

I lost my mom recently and it’s so hard, almost 2 months every single day I remember her and I Cannt so my work properly

My sister died when I was 4. I was so young I barely remember her. I don’t even remember the day she died. I only remember one thing from her funeral and it’s after it was over and being tired and my dad carrying me to the car.

This was almost 15 years ago, I’m 18 now and a few weeks ago it kind of hit me a little harder than initially.

Like I’ve always just had the thought in the back of my mind, when people come over and see family photos from back then and ask about it I’m like “yeah that’s my sister she died”

I genuinely never grieved. I just went on about my life since I was so young. But recently it hit me. My sister is dead. My parents lost their kid. I cried for her for the first time. And have been since. Is this normal?

I don’t get it. I know we both come from a Christian background and we believe in life and death, evil and good but why say that? I had to end our friendship because not only did it reveal a lot about our friendship because there’s more to the story but what she said really made me give up on my faith. It’s confusing because people on the outside wouldn’t think she would do anything wrong like that but it’s crazy because I see the red flags. She said that she saw a tornado coming towards me, the same one she saw coming towards my dad??? Like what? She said she had a “vision” or whatever. It’s crazy how much is revealed once you lose a loved one it’s like everything shifts into a new dimension.

The last new song my mom heard was "Look Like My Mama" by AZ Chike featuring Tyler the Creator. It would be easy for me to hate this. Easy for me to wish for something "more special" or some such. To wish the last new song she heard was something special by someone "appropriate". But here's the thing: my mom has loved Tyler the Creator since 2017. She's loved his music since then, and has loved a curated batch of his music before then. No, she doesn't know about all of Tyler's old music. But if my mom's legacy was decided by post 2017 Tyler the Creator? I would be fine with that.

How do you all get through the days that feel worse and never-ending, filled with endless yearning?

No matter how much you progress, it just feels like once grief has entered, it is your lifetime partner and will decide to be loud on any day unannounced.

I have tried everything at this point and am just wondering what helps others get through.

Two days ago, I held my Dad in my arms as he passed. After many years battling cancer, and fighting so bravely, he finally decided to rest.

It was hard seeing him go. Seeing his color change. His breathing change. I’ve worked in healthcare both as an EMT and a nurse and I thought I’d be better prepared, but I wasn’t.

For my whole life my Dad was my hero. When I was a kid I thought of him as invincible, and that I’d be an old man when he finally passed away. But I’m not an old man, I’m 33. My youngest daughter is only 6. And we all feel like cancer robbed us of time with him.

Even in his final moments, my Dad didn’t want to go. He told me in the hospital, shortly before declining, that his life was amazing but he still felt like “I have more time in me”. He wanted to be around his loved ones longer. And it’s so hard for me to know that…

My Dad enjoyed scary movies, fly fishing, watching baseball, and getting out of the house to have fun. One thing about him I know to be true: he had a massive heart. We all talk about my Dad always made sure the people around him were happy. Even people he barely knew. He’d always speak so nicely to service workers, random strangers in public, and was especially loving to his family.

I miss you, Dad. I feel like there was so much more I wanted to tell you before you went. I didn’t get to tell you in detail just how great of a father you were. I didn’t get to ask you what I should do when I need you, but can’t call you. It all happened to fast, in the last few days. All I could tell you was that I loved you and that it was okay to let go.. but I wanted to say so much more to you.

Rest easy, Dad. When I see you again, we’ll get some beers together, and watch some baseball.

My friend's little brother just committed suicide yesterday, they're struggling to process the whole thing and keep switching between completely dissociation and denial and feeling guilty saying maybe they could've done something to help. They always feel the need to be strong for everyone else so I offered my house for whenever they feel overwhelmed and need to hide from family and other friends. I don't know how else to help.

They had a fight right before the brother died and now they say they struggle to remember anything good about him like there's a separation between the him before the fight and him after, like it's two different people instead of just the little brother they used to love.

What can I do to support my friend through this?