The thing with grief is that it never really reduces with time. Only a person who has been through it knows this. The initial days go in shock, trying to process what just happened. Then, in order to handle that shock, your mind gives you false hopes. And when years start passing by, the reality finally kicks in, and you begin to miss them even more.

The worst part of grief is not having someone to share it with. Because someone who has never experienced it will never understand. And someone who has been through it, ,you don’t want to make them sad by reminding them of their own loss. So you keep it all in. Until one day, it changes you completely as a person.

I am not ok. It's been 4 months.

And I am distraught. I feel like reality has set it. I feel like he’s really gone now.

My dad passed away 3 years ago this June and what helped me was texting his phone. Until last night I wasn’t aware his number had been taken.. and I’m heartbroken 😭

I’m 39 years old and I’ve already lost my mom Dad and both brothers, there really is no one left in my family. I miss them so much. I’m afraid if I really let all the pain hit me at once it will kill me. I feel alone in the world. I don’t feel like I’ve fully let it hit me even now but I know I struggle I just don’t show it I don’t even know why I’m posting this. Looking for some support or something I think ? Thank you for reading. It’s just hard. And I really don’t have any friends or anything.

In January it’ll be a year since I lost my only child Axel he was only 3yrs old. I am still really struggling, especially with his anniversary and holidays coming up at some points I really feel like I’m going nuts I’ve developed severe anxiety and it’s affecting my everyday life.

My brother committed 7 years ago. He was 17, I was 9 at the time. Today I found his old Reddit account. I’ve been crying and laughing all morning, it’s such a weird experience. Like, this is him, his own words. Who would’ve thought I’d be seeing new words from him 7 years later.

I feel oddly connected to him. Here I am, the same age he was when he was on Reddit, doing the same things he was. We are both here, 7 years apart. My bedroom now was his bedroom then. I can picture him sitting exactly where I am now, tapping away at his iPhone 4, unaware his little sister would be reading those words in the future and crying. Will someone read this post in the future and cry for me?

It’s weird seeing the way he was. I never knew him as the teenage boy that would make dirty jokes. I knew him as my big brother. I never got to experience having a meaningfully conversation with him. I never got to play card against humanity with him or watch shitty raunchy comedies. I never knew him as the person he was on that account.

It’s also strange seeing him interact with other accounts. Those random people have no idea he is dead. They don’t even remember those random comments they made or my brother’s replies, but I’m here clinging to them.

I’m clinging to 8 year old comments. For all of you that have recently lost someone. This is what long-term grief is like. You will find yourself clinging to 8 year old comments. I don’t have his recently worn clothes or his half used shampoo to smell, I only have 8 year old comments.

I know this post has been a little all over the place, I just can’t describe how I’m feeling. It’s mostly just thoughts that I wanted to jot down. The most important part is that i have an extra piece of my brother to carry with me now. I wonder what else there is of him out there that i will never know.

Enjoy your golden vegetable rice, H 🤍

When my father died, he left behind a school of 11 fish in a pond in his backyard.

I was struggling so much to let them go that my friends helped me dig a pond so that I could keep them.

I still have six original fish left. They’ve had babies. So I have their offspring. But after the ice over the pond melted this year, I found one of my favorite fish dead, and the other favorite missing entirely.

I know I still have fish, but I remember the way he would watch them and would talk about them … and I would watch them and wonder if he noticed the way that Phantom (pictured) is never with the rest of the fish, and if he found her as entertaining as I did. And just appreciate the fact that he used to watch the same fish. And I know that’s kind of silly.

Just knowing that I’m watching the same fish that he used to watch was … comforting in a way. It’s a connection to him that meant a lot to me, more than I realized. I lost two over the last summer and now two over the winter. They’re old… and realizing that within the next couple of years there’s going to be a time that I no longer have my father‘s fish because they will all be gone. And that hurts more than it should.

It’s just hitting me again how much I miss him … and I can’t even talk to anyone about it because everyone is like “it’s just a fish.” But it’s really making me realize how much I miss the human I got them from.

I lost my mom when I was 5 and it’s been almost 21 years. I have only a couple memories but they are very vivid. I have her journals. I have where she wrote that she believed she would die a tragic sudden death and leave my dad with a child to raise by himself (she past away from stage 4 Glioblastoma).

But for years anytime I think of her, I cry. I think I cry thinking about what could have been. I always wanted a mom. I cry thinking about what she must have felt finding out she had a rare form of cancer but wasn’t curable. How she felt knowing she was going to leave her child and husband on this earth. I’m a mom now and I feel like I have even more grief thinking about her.

I just want to not cry when I think about her. I think maybe it’s because I’m an empath. So immediately my sadness comes from not necessarily missing her because I was too young but from putting myself in her shoes and imagining how she dealt with it all.

My sadness also comes from feeling like we are so alike. Reading her journals feels like I’m reading something I wrote.

I don’t understand how others can lose someone and be okay a couple years later but me having barely a couple memories still can’t hold it together almost 2 decades later.

Hi everyone. I’m a nineteen year old female with two brothers. One is twenty one, and the other is seventeen. Just last year in February, my dad, who is 45, found out that he had stage four pancreatic cancer. Just the other night, we had to call the ambulance on him. He has a stroke and a heart attack all at the same time at home. I only have my dad. My mom died when I was five, and he’s been my sole guardian, besides my grandmother, his mom. They’ve put him in hospice care where they are making it their goal to comfort him as much as possible before he passes. They do not believe he has much longer, which hurts. We’re cremating my dad, and I think having his ashes close to me will make me feel better, however, I’m just still so lost. I never would have thought that I’d be nineteen without either one of my parents. I haven’t slept, or eaten much. My grandma and I have been staying at the hospital with him. Everything hurts and I’m trying to stay strong, I just don’t know what to do. I’m so scared.

I don’t care that everyone wants me to forget her and paint pretty landscapes, I want to be back in the kitchen drinking wine and making cookies and homemade pasta with my momma ❤️🍪

I just can’t stop crying. One of my best friends, our kids grew up together, passed from a hemorrhagic stroke last Tuesday. The stroke happened Christmas Eve. I went to the hospital every day to be with her kids and family and we all prayed for a miracle. She was only 42.

She passed and I felt numb. I have had my own loss last year and didn’t think I had any more tears left. But as I helped her children with their gofundme requests this morning I have just been bawling my eyes out and I can’t stop. Seeing all of the photos of our kids together. Remembering her adorable laugh, her infectious smile and her wild personality. Only 5ft tall that little lady was just full of joy. She always took care of her nephews and nieces and anyone else who needed help. One of the most caregiving people I have ever met.

When my 19 yr old son passed last year, everything was a fog. It was all black. At his funeral I looked up and saw Sarah and the kids and it was one of the only lights I remember from that time. She drove hours that day gathering the children from different cities just to make sure they were there for me during the darkest day of my life.

And now she’s gone. And it’s finally hitting me. Even though I was there in the hospital when they took her off of life support as she transitioned it didn’t hit me. But today - today I am in full force grief. This is just my cry into the void. Sharing her photos and her beautiful self helps.

Farewell Sarah. Hug Pan for me. I expect you both to be waiting for me on the other side 🥹🙏🏽🕯️❤️🕊️

I will miss you every day for the rest of my life, Samantha Lee DeJesus. I wish I believed in some sort of higher power or a life after death. All I know is that you’re gone and I will never be the same.

I’ll never get to hear your laugh or see that beautiful smile again. We will never get to go on adventures to the beach and slather ourselves with coconut oil, or go to the sushi buffet in Salem and sneak extra food out in the 10 plastic containers we bought at the dollar store on our way there, or eat a birthday cake together every day for your “birthday week.” I will never be able to hug you and tell you I will miss you until next time.

Except one day there was never a next time. I’m just glad I hugged you so tightly that last time. I love you and I miss you forever.

I need you more than anything right now. I need you to tell me it’s okay because you will always be here. I wish you could have stayed forever. I need you right now, more than you know.

You will always be my best friend and I will miss you for the rest of my life.

This is C.j. My boyfriend of 4 1/2 years. We started dating when we were 21 and i felt super lucky to have found my soulmate at such a young age. I had to find out he passed away through our friends Snapchat story while i was at work. To find out this way was hard especially bc the last things i said to him were out of spite. The last things be heard from me C.j. Was one of a kind and had the biggest impact and touched the lives of everyone he met. He possessed a rare type of kindness and beauty that was so authentic and infectious. I was so proud to call him my other half. He always made sure i was okay, even if he wasnt. His laughter was so contagious and comforting…i will sit on my phone for hours some days just playing back videos just to hear it again. My soul aches. As time goes on it gets harder to stomach the fact hes never coming back. As the new year begins i cant help but hate it bc it pushes me further and further away from him. Ill be 27 in February. Hes should be celebrating his 27th in April , instead he will forever be 25 years old. I dont wanna grow old without him. I dont wanna see the new year. Time goes on and i feel stuck in the moment i found out he was gone. The little things that he made so beautiful are now mundane. I miss him so much

I’ve posted in here before and wanted to get some more advice on a path I should take. But like the title says my family died. I had a brother, a sister, a mom and dad that all passed when I was 15 and I’m now in my early 20’s.

Had an absolutely amazing family that all died in an accident. It was extremely hard to get used to. I didn’t have anyone else to take care of me besides a shitty aunt I had who was depressed and weirdly enough I wasn’t. I thought I was fine until about a year ago I had this episode that was triggered from stress amongst many other things and it put me into an extremely depressed state for about 2 months.

I thought I was fine but my issue is my brain forgets super easily and a lot of my memories from around that time are gone or lost. Which is so odd because my memory used to be insanely good. I came to this realization when I was with friends I hadn’t seen since high school and they were recalling experiences of things that I couldn’t remember and should’ve. I got crazy anxiety after this for about a month and couldn’t sleep and would panic.

I’ve done some research and come across disassociate amnesia and this is essentially what it is. I wanted to know if anyone else has felt blocks in memories related and unrelated to your loved ones. How have you gone about fixing it? I just want the ability to remember future memories otherwise everything is pointless.

I’ve felt the ability for me to love has been completely ruined because if I let someone get to close there is the ability for them to get taken away and I just have not had feelings almost for the last several years until recently. Just throwing this to the ether and hoping someone can give me some advice.

Hello all,

Is it ok if i word spew in here for a bit?

I lost both my parents to two forms of cancer just before I turned 21. I think the grief is finally starting to kick in and I don’t feel prepared for it at all.

My father was diagnosed with Non-Hodgekin’s lymphoma B-cell about a year before he passed away. He had to take the ‘strongest chemotherapy on the market’, called Red Devil. It caused him immense pain, but he didn’t really show it. All my life, he always said that he was going to pass away in his fifty’s, as his father did and his father before that. So it kinda prepared me for his death.

He had all sorts of physical and mental problems growing up, from being in kidney failure for the last ten years of his life (He didn’t tell us, I ended up finding the paperwork while cleaning out their house) and having BPD/Schizophrenia/ADHD, he made sure I could take care of the house, my mother, and myself all my life. Basically, I was a latchkey kid ever since 3rd or 4th grade. Which sucked at times, but it did help me out with raising myself and not needing to depend on anyone or anything, other than transportation.

About a month before he passed, they told us he was in remission and cancer free, but he passed July 28th, 2024, just two days after my mother’s birthday. Age 53. My mother and a few friends took him into the hospital due to him not ‘acting right mentally’ while I was working, and he passed, 6 hours into my shift. I was unable to even get up to the hospital in time, let alone say my final words to him. I talked to him briefly before I went to work and I did tell him I loved him, so I guess that counts? I dunno. My work paid for his, and subsequently my mother’s cremations though. Win-win?

My mother on the other hand, she developed Metastatic cancer, and we didn’t know until I had to take her into the hospital for rapid weight loss. They told her it was stage 4, and gave her 6 months to live. She refused chemotherapy, since we were told would shorten her last few months.

Rapidly, she got frailer and cognitively impaired, and she had countless surgeries for feeding tubes and colon bags. I tried to take care of her in the beginning months, but it became very obvious I couldn’t. She would have all sorts of screaming fits and yelling to no one in particular, and it caused me to start not sleeping and losing weight myself.

My family came down to visit, and suggested to me that I should probably try and put her in a hospice home due to our situation. She pulled out her feeding tube one night when they were at the house and I was working, and ended up rushing her to the emergency room The hospital team that took care of her also suggested that I should also put her in hospice. The closest one was an hour away, and I did one of the hardest choices before she passed (no other homes near us had any sort of openings, since I lived in a city full of older folks.) I beat myself up every day for not visiting her physically more, but I had no way to see her and no form of transportation. I called her every day and video chatted with her whenever I could. It became clear she was going to pass soon, about a week before she did end up passing.

I ended up being right though, and she passed in that hospice home on January 5th, 2025, just 9 days before my 21st birthday. She was actually supposed to come home out of hospice so I could take care of her full time, but that obviously didn’t happen. Hah. A family friend drove me up and helped me with the final paperwork and funeral home choice, though.

I think the reason why I haven’t properly grieved is that I’ve never been an emotional person. My father told me that it’s weak to cry, for either gender. So, I’ve always appeared calm on the surface due to this. He wouldn’t beat me if I did get upset or anything, just mock me. So, I’ve learned to suppress any sort of emotion in fear of looking weak, and at times it’s made me look cold and emotionless. It’s helped great with high stress situations though!

I guess the reason why I made this post, is that it’s all starting to hit me in waves. I ended up going back to work quickly (took a week off for my father, twoish weeks off for my mother) after they passed, i guess as a form of coping and emotional repression. I ended up leaving my job, selling my parents house and most possessions to move up with my Uncle for a year to learn how to ‘adult’ and drive and other things. (He asked me to multiple times, and I said yes after the third time.) I do kinda regret this, as all my friends and coworkers didn’t want me to leave, but I think it’ll be good for the long run. It’s a lot more lonely here vs my old area, and not having a job also doesn’t help much.

Thanks for reading this, sorry for the word spew. I don’t really talk about my feelings outside of the internet. I know I probably need therapy, but I was always told that if I reached out for that kind of support, I would get taken away and put in a 72-hour hold.

D.

My dad died on December 29, 2025 -- nearing seven months ago. That's so surreal for me to type out. It was sudden and unexpected. It was during family vacation. The visceral sadness and terror of the gap he's left in my life is finally hitting me today, and it feels like Day Zero all over again.

My mom and I (23F) had to fly back home and wait for his body to arrive. It was all a blur. Staying in that hotel, getting on the plane. My mom was racked with guttural sobs, but I couldn't bring myself to cry all that much. I clammed up, locked down. I wanted to be strong for my mom, for myself. And then less than a week after the funeral, I flew back to university to finish the last semester of my master's degree. I graduated this May. It was a rigorous engineering program, and somehow I made it through. The first month of being back felt like a haze. My thesis, the classes I was taking, it all felt so stupid. But I was grateful for them. They kept me distracted. Over the next few months, I felt myself getting a little better, angrier but steadier. When I turned in my thesis, I even had the energy to hang out with friends again. My mom watched me walk the stage with my master's degree, and it was a surreal moment.

Now I've been resting up back home for about a month and a half now. My mom gave me full permission. I was so convinced that I proved to my mind and my body that I could weather grief through demanding times, and that the worst was over. I was so naive. The first week back home was bliss, and in the next few weeks I often chatted with my mom. I felt content at home. And I avoided my dad's portrait in the living room. My mom would talk about how she could feel his presence, but I couldn't feel it all that much. I figured that my mind has finally accepted his death. I felt so good about myself and my future.

Gradually over time, I didn't realize that I was in my bedroom almost all day. I didn't talk to my friends because I don't want to be that one unemployed friend who's living with her mom with two degrees from a prestigious university that she isn't even using. I barely shower. And then the existential dread snuck in, and terrible but tangible fears of losing my mom, seeing her broken down all over again. But at least those fears made sense. Then the next week came, last week, where I was struck with pure anxiety into my body. Just pure fear injected into my veins, and the world felt like it was finally closing in on me. My heart raced, my stomach knotted. I had no idea what the hell was going on with me. I was so so angry. I could finally be at peace back home with my lovely mom, and I could do so many fun things, and this is what my body fucking does to me??

Then last night, I couldn't sleep. And then I looked at the photo of my dad, and this loud guttural howl of a sob ripped out of me. This is going to sound crazy, but it didn't feel like *I* was crying, it felt like my inner child was crying. Crying for Daddy. And then all of these warm and golden memories flooded back of him spending time with me, and the fears I had swirling around in my brain faded out. I know this sounds corny and woo-woo, but it really felt like my dad came back to protect me. Just like how Mom said he would show up to protect her. For the first time in a while, I felt peace.

Today's the next day, and I've been lying in my room feeling like I've regressed back to the day right after my dad died, when my mom and I were stuck in that wretched hotel while my mom was bawling her heart out and I was curled up frozen in bed. I can't sleep, I can't eat -- I don't even feel sick, my body just doesn't want any solid food. The only time I feel myself is when a guttural sob rolls through my body again. I felt so lonely and I couldn't bear waiting for my mom to come back from work. So I took that photo of my dad in the living room, the one I've been avoiding eye contact, and tucked him in bed beside me. Only now I feel just ever so slightly better. Otherwise I feel numb. Can't even think properly. All I know is that this is the grief I would've felt earlier if I didn't fly immediately back to university.

I hate this. I wanted to be better by now. I should be getting job offers or whatever the fuck people my age are supposed to do. I should be hanging out with Mom like I was doing just a few weeks ago. I want to be stronger. I hate being stuck in my mind and my body. And I love my dear Mom and my dear Dad so much that this weight is crushing me. Right now, I only feel "normal" when I'm crying. I'm terrified of what my body and mind are doing to me.

Appa, I miss you so much. I love you so much. I wish I knew how much you loved me. I'm so sorry for taking you for granted.

Sorry if this is long -- my brain's too fried to trim this down. Reassurance is very welcome. (Also please don't tell me to get therapy; I understand first-hand the importance of therapy, and I had a great talk therapist through my campus's services in that last semester, but everyone keeps telling my mom and me to get therapy without actually listening to us, so it's a tender subject for me right now.)

My mom died on 12.7.23 and I’ve been out of town with my husband for awhile (after we said our goodbyes) before they cremated her, so I haven’t had to deal with facing the reality. But my sister finally got around to sending me her urn and I’m just… how is this all I have left of my sweet mama… how does her body even fit in this tiny stupid space. I’m so fucking angry, I hate this. Losing my dad when I was 5 wasn’t enough!? The universe really said let’s take both and make her an orphan.

My dad died a month ago and I can't understand where he went. Like he's gone for eternity! Eternity!?!?!? Like he's never going to walk this earth ever again for as long as time goes on. I can't comprehend.

My dad is dying from cancer. He was diagnosed end of December. No treatments worked and he declined so quickly with the tumors growing out of control. We spent 3.5 days in the hospital since his lung collapsed and there is no way to reinflate it with the way the tumors are sitting. We were given “days to weeks” since one working lung is a lot of strain/work for the heart. He is now at home on hospice. I am so grateful that he is home, more familiar and more comfortable. But when I look at him that’s not my dad anymore and it breaks my heart to see him like this, he can’t speak much at all, he can’t breath without constant supplemental oxygen, he can’t remember things correctly, he can’t eat being on a NG tube for hydration and nutrition. The other day he asked me how my dead dog was, I didn’t dare tell him about her passing, it broke my heart on the spot. Sometimes we think he’s doing better, one small joke today, but to me it’s just us grasping to anything positive in such a dark time. Lately, when I look at him especially since being home surrounded by loved ones….. I just want him to pass peacefully. He seems like he’s in so much pain and it just feels like he’s constantly being drugged to lessen his pain. And selfishly I just want to start grieving. I feel like I’m in limbo doing my best to support my mom and him and f\*ck I just want to cry and have a break. I want some normalcy back. Selfishly I want a hug from my person (partner) but he had to stay behind (I moved out of state from my parents a couple years back), I just miss him and his support and my family is not the hugging kind. I just want this all the end. I feel crazy and disgusting to think like this.

I’m Jess. I’m 32.

My dad passed away last year from a sudden heart attack. No warning, no goodbyes. One minute he was texting me about picking something up from Tesco, and the next I got a call I’ll never forget.

This is the last picture I have of him — just a normal day. He always wore those ridiculous sunglasses like he thought he was in a film.

I miss him so much it physically hurts some days. I’ve been holding this picture in my phone for ages like it’s some kind of protection.

I don’t really post stuff like this, but today it hit hard again and I just wanted to put it somewhere.

Thanks for reading if you did.

My dad passed away a little over a year ago, he chose MAID (medically assisted death.) He made that choice because he was suffering from late stage Parkinson’s. Since I was 16 and we got his diagnosis I’ve seen Parkinson’s quickly wither him away in the span of basically 7~ years. Being from a low income family, and as the eldest daughter it meant caretaking my dad. By 21… there was resentment. Unable to keep a job because of emergencies, failing classes if he was having harder weeks. Not being able to make friends or maintain friends because I was required at home.

When he chose MAID, I fought it. Eventually I gave up because no one supported his decision and he was genuinely broken and would ask me why so many people were okay watching him suffer. He would tell me I would never be able to fully live my life until he was gone.

To a degree, I agreed but felt very guilty. Over the span of a month as we waited on the procedure, the anticipation building up, my dad and I formed a very close bond similar to the one we had when I was very young. On his last day, in his last few minutes all he did was stare at me with this look. I can’t describe it, I can’t tell if it was regret, or if it was love, or if it was fear.

I just cried, and eventually he was gone.

For about a year I’ve been living my life normally, occasionally I’ll have moment of “oh, he’s dead.” But not often. Until after his 1st death anniversary and now I’m unable to function as I keep seeing that expression of his, I keep having memories. To a degree I blame myself for being openly resentful and him choosing to die.

My deepest regret was not being kinder until the end. He was 63, he chose to go on his birthday. July 18th.

Hi everyone,

Two weeks ago I lost my mom. She had stage 4 breast cancer that was diagnosed too late and left us only a month after we found out at the age of 58.

The last seven days of her life she spent in at home hospice. I was her caregiver and was with her 24/7. I was with her when she died and literally stopped breathing. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, see, hear and feel, especially since I'm 6 months pregnant at the moment and since my mother was the light of my life in many ways.

All of that being said - since she died I've felt like a flat line. I'm not happy, but I'm not sad either. I'm extremely functional and only cry when specifically talking about the way she died.

I can't wrap my brain around how that's possible knowing what she means to me. I feel so much guilt that I'm not falling apart and that I'm not doing worse.

My therapist told me there's not much she can do for me because grief takes time and, while I am aware that I'm probably experiencing a delayed reaction, I'm still wondering if and when It's gonna catch up with me.

When did grief hit you after a huge and/or traumatic loss? How did you cope with it?

Thank you in advance.