Don't grieve alone; 14,000 members and growing
Hello everyone. I just lost my dad, not even two weeks ago, and I feel like I can't breathe. He was my favorite person in the world and I sometimes question if I can even function without him. Other times, I still find it hard to believe that he is gone, and then it hits me all over again.
I never got to say goodbye.
He started declining earlier this year so we started getting him treatment and therapy so that he would get better. I haven't physically seen or hugged my dad since I dropped him off at the hospital (due to the virus) over three months ago, and now I never will again. That's the toughest part I guess, all of those missed months that I could have had with him. Now he's gone and I miss him so much it physically hurts.
Has anyone else had a similar experience?
When will it get any better? Can it even get better?
Will I be able to recover?
It has been four months since my dad passed away; One hundred and twenty two days. It's been so long since I've last talked to him, and even longer since I've seen him through a window, and even longer since I last hugged him goodbye.
These thoughts continuously run through my head, everyday, but even more on days like this. It's continuous torture. My brain is stuck on should haves, could haves, would haves, what ifs, and why's. I have so many questions, so much anger, so much sadness, and now, so much loneliness.
My dad was the person that I could always go to. I need him. I'll always need him. But it isn't enough. No amount of need, crying, tears, begging, or pleading will bring him back. He's gone, and I don't know what to do.
In my case it is my husband who died, but a lot of the feelings are the same. The death of a loved one is always horribly painful.
Have you considered going to therapy? It's not for everyone, but it does help a lot of people. If you decide to give it a try, I would suggest looking for a therapist who has experience dealing specifically with grieving people. Of course everything is more difficult now with this covid plague, but a lot of doctors and therapists are doing appointments via Zoom/Skype/Google/etc. I see you are located in the U.S., with our ass-backwards medical/insurance system, so if money is an issue you might want to start by seeing if your school has therapists on staff; a lot of colleges offer mental health services to their students.
Of course therapy won't bring back your father, but maybe it could help you deal with your feelings. Also, your statement that "These thoughts continuously run through my head, everyday, but even more on days like this. It's continuous torture. My brain is stuck on should haves, could haves, would haves, what ifs, and why's." sounds like you may be dealing with some OCD (I have OCD myself, and that's how my brain works sometimes); if so, a good therapist could help with that as well.
Hi! I was so happy to read your post, as I feel the same. What if , could have should have etc. I lost my dad one month ago and it feel like yesterday everyday . I miss him terribly and everything brings me memories and I beg for him to come back home ! I never imagined this much pain in my heart. He was my everyday and now my everyday is soo empty . Thanks for listening.
Things were supposed to be so different. I was supposed to go away to college and finally go back to being the happy person I once was. My parents kept telling me that things get better after high school. I was counting on it. I needed things to get so much better. Instead, my dad died, friends that I didn't even think were that big of a deal dropped me, and I once again have to spend another birthday going to dinner with my parents.
I thought I'd at least spend it following my (now ex) roommate to the clubs that she went to every Saturday with her friends, but we haven't spoken since the day she told me she switched rooms, almost a month ago. I thought maybe I'd make some more friends during the six months I've been at school and I could make plans with them. I thought I could possibly branch out, and become the person that I wanted to be. I was working on it. I went out and participated in activities. I was working so hard on being happy again.
When my dad died, everything shattered. The plans that I had made seemed meaningless and insignificant. I took one giant step forward, and hundred even-bigger steps back. Things were supposed to be different. Instead, my mom and step-dad are driving almost seven hours to spend the weekend with me.
They were originally going to make me go back home, since all of my classes are online still, since I'm pretty much just rotting in my dorm room all day, everyday. I talked them out of it. I put on a brave face, and told them I liked the solitude. I stopped telling them how sad and lonely I am. I stopped being sad and lonely. I stopped feeling as much. I keep myself busy with pointless school work, t.v., and music so that my brain doesn't focus on how little I interact with people my age, or people in general. I don't think about how I haven't eaten with anyone in weeks. I don't think about how I haven't had a "friend" check-up on me in weeks. I don't think about how not one "friend" said anything on the four month anniversary of my dad's passing, or the three month, or the two... I don't think about how I do not have any friends.
But still, my parents are coming to town this weekend on my birthday. I'll be nineteen. It's my first one without my dad. I think they're worried about how I'll take it. I mean, I cried on my birthday last year when I was upset about not having any friends to celebrate with. Imagine what I'll do this year, without my father there with me, without hearing his "happy birthday" singing, without receiving the same card he picked out the last few years without realizing it, because the message inside was so perfect that he repeatedly chose the same one. It'll be my first birthday where I will truly feel alone, no matter who's here, because my dad will not be. It won't matter who sends me a Happy Birthday text, or who doesn't, because I know there won't be one from my dad.
I don't know how it will all happen, but I know that my mom and step-dad will try to make the best of it, even if I won't.
Wish me luck.
I lost my sweet dad 19 days ago, and I feel like I can not accept it, I am hoping that he will come back somehow. It hurts so much. His last days were at a hospital and we could not visit him but greatfully we did a in home hospice. He was covid positive, but my beautiful sister took care of him at my home, I finally assisted when he was infectious free, but it was kinda late, as I only spent one week with him before he passed. It was so beautiful tho, as we had two beautiful days with him as a family, talking, praying, laughing, eating and sharing. I know my dad heard us, I just know he did...
I slept until almost two o'clock in the afternoon today. Why? Because my dad was in my dreams.
He was there, for real, like he was about a year ago. He was healthier. He was happy. He told me that he was doing good. As he was arguing over his health, my brain remembered he was gone. I started crying, but he told me that I shouldn't be crying because he was here with me. I stopped crying and took advantage of the time I had with my dad. Every time I woke up, I went back to sleep. I wanted so much more time with him. I would have stayed asleep for the rest of my life if it meant I could still see him.
We argued over my eating habits. We had some kind of food or snowball fight. We went to get ice-cream with friends. It was the greatest thing in the world, to talk with him again, to see him again. He was healthy and happy. That was all I ever wanted for him.
"And when the world treats you way too fairly
Well, it's a shame, I'm a dream
All I wanted was you"
-ALL I WANTED by: Paramore
When I woke up for the last time, I had a version of a panic attack, I think. My heart started racing, and I felt like I was moving in slow motion, which only made my heart beat faster, and myself panic more. I used to get them when I was sick, when I just woke up too fast. I think my brain was trying to tell me something, but I'm not exactly sure what it was.
It hurts to think that this was all a trick that my brain played on me. One very cruel trick.
I just miss my dad so much. I don't know what to do.
It's been five months. That's just over 150 days. A day short of twenty-two weeks. My heart has beat roughly 15 million times since my dad's has stopped. How is that even possible? You know what's even worse? It has been over eight months since I've been able to see my dad face-to-face, since I last hugged him goodbye. How is that fair? The answer is, that it isn't. It is not fair. LIFE isn't fair.
Life wasn't being fair when it rudely took my dad away from me. Life wasn't being fair when it made me watch him turn into something that wasn't my nice, wonderful, happy father that I had grown up with and loved with all my heart. It wasn't fair that at the year I turned 18, I had to take care of not only myself, but my very sick and newly-immobile father. It wasn't fair of me to get so frustrated and angry at him for always having to do so. It wasn't fair that that was the end for us, that we never got to make it better. We never got a happier ending. We never got a real goodbye. Life isn't fair because now I am only nineteen years old, and I have to live the rest of my life without my father there, without the one person that I love most in the world. I'm without the one person who could possibly make this better for me.
So now instead, I will cry. I will cry until I can't see the world that no longer has my dad in it. I will wear my favorite shirt of his that once smelled like him, but no longer does because that too can fade in five months of tears. I will sit in my dad's chair all day, with the blanket he always used, and I will picture a time when we both were here, sitting in it together. So that's my plan for this terrible day that makes it harder to breathe.
Things aren't going very well right now. I am really struggling. I miss my dad more and more everyday, if that is even possible. I'm sad all of the time now. It's difficult to think about him at all without getting upset. Sometimes, it is a memory that will make me think of, and miss, my dad. Other times, it is just the thinking and remembering that he is gone, that he is no longer in my life. That thought is so painful that it makes it hard to breathe.
I am barely in contact with the people who knew me before, who knew how much my dad meant to me, who should know how much it all is killing me. They never check in. It's like they don't care at all, and that hurts too. No one reaches out on those painful anniversary days. No one checks in on regular days. There's no "hey, your dad passed away a few months ago. How are you holding up?" No one says ANYTHING. I don't care if they don't know what it is like, or have trouble saying the right thing because whatever they are doing right now is so much worse. It's so hard, especially when I feel like I am doing this all by myself.
There is no doubt that his death hit me the hardest. In addition to him being MY dad, and my favorite person in the world, some people got to see him shortly before he died. (My mom and my uncle got to see him when they were trying to get him released from his second-to-last trip in the hospital. My dad's friends, and my uncle again, stayed with him when he got to go home for less than 48 hours, before he had his seizure and was sent to the hospital for the last time.) I hadn't hugged him in three months, before he died. I haven't hugged my dad in eight months, and now I never will again. It's not fair. None of this is fair. It hurts so much, too much. I don't know what to do.
Hi there, everyone.
So, last month, when I started to get really lonely being up at school all by myself, my mom reached out to other moms on Facebook, and found other kids who were going through similar feelings. So over the last month, I have met with and "made friends" with a few students that go to my school. Though even if I met with freshman who don't really know people, who had really absent friends, who suffered from depression in high school, it wasn't the same anymore. I'm still in this boat alone because they didn't lose their favorite person in the world. Sometimes, I'd tell them. Sometimes I didn't. How am I supposed to go about a thing like that? It is hard to figure out if it is a good time. I mean, there will never be a good time to tell them that my dad died almost six months ago, and that I feel like I can't breathe without him.
Well I did end up telling one or two of them, and this is how it went. We were texting, and she was telling me for like the fourth time that I should get out there more, even if I am really shy. That it will be good for me. I couldn't take it anymore. I told her. She was kind of cool about it. I mean, as cool as one can be when you're telling almost a complete stranger that your dad died, and it ruined all of your progress you made on fighting depression. She also said that her friends' mom had cancer, and wasn't doing very well, so she knew a little bit more about how much it all sucks. So it was fine I guess. And when she asked how I was doing later on, I felt like I could be honest, so I told her about days when I was sad, and things like that. So I thought all in all, it was a good thing that I was able to tell her.
Anyways, last night I got a text from her around midnight. She said "my friend's mom just died. I don't know what to do?... I already talked to her but I want to send her something. What should I send her?" It took like three text messages down for her to explain that she wanted to ask me because I obviously went through it, and she that she wanted to know what would have made me feel better at that time.
I mean, I knew from the beginning that it was why she asked me, but I have so many mixed feelings about it. It was nice that she wanted to do something nice for her friend during such a terrible time, but the way she asked and the reason for asking me was kind of insensitive, you know?
Hasn't she lost anyone in her life? Can't she picture losing someone, and figure out what she would want? Can't she think about her time with her friend and her mom? I don't know her friend. I never even met the girl I was talking to in person.
I still helped her out. I told her about the nicest things that I got from friends and family. I didn't say anything about how I'm feeling. I don't know. Maybe, I'm overreacting. What do you all think?
So today, I watched a few episodes of Master Chef. My dad and I used to watch them together. It's not the first time I started rewatching shows we used to watch together. I loved Bones and we watched all 12 seasons together. I wanted that feeling again, the feeling where I was excited about watching a show. Bones was one of my favorites. I started getting into crime dramas in high school. I liked them so much that I thought I wanted to study Criminology in college. So, my dad and I watched shows like that together. Or should I say, he watched them with me, so that we could spend more time together. And, I watched cooking competition shows with him to spend more time with him. I think he liked that I ate food more while watching shows like that. I mean, how could you not want to eat what they were cooking? So anyways, I sat in his chair, which is now in my dorm room, and I watched a season that we watched together. I thought it would bring me comfort, like Bones did, but the whole thing just felt off.
So, there's that, and my mom and step-dad are packing up their house, and moving soon. Now, it's all they talk about. First, it reminds me of how I wasn't competent enough to grab everything that I should have, from the boxes of our things that we had together, mine and my dad's, which is now in a garbage landfill somewhere, or went to Goodwill. Thoughts like that kill me, so I can't talk about it too much. Second, there are a few things that I did grab, from my room that I had at my dad's house, and when I went through stuff, I found important mementos that I put somewhere in my room at my mom's that I don't want to get lost in moving.
One thing in particular would be a letter from my dad. Now it's not like a perfect-picture movie moment, where I got a goodbye letter, and some closure, from my dad that he wrote before he died. (In fact, I have the opposite of closure, which is probably why I'm still drowning in my grief and depression.) Instead, it's a letter that my dad wrote to me while I was in one of the darkest times in my life, before the death of my dad shattered my darkness/depression scale completely. He wrote to me about the problems people around me faced, I guess you could call them family-friends though they're no where to be found now that our link (my dad) is gone. The letter wasn't exactly the best written letter you've ever read. My dad was a math and science guy, not an english guy. There are mistakes and pen scribbles to cover up words. The topic itself doesn't make me feel any better. (Comparing levels of pain and others' issues doesn't make mine any better.) But it's from my dad, and I miss him so much. I like to trace my fingers over the words, and to feel the lines his pen made. I like to see the way he wrote my name. I like to read it with his voice narrating the letter in my head. Oh, how I wish I could hear his voice again, to hear him call me by his nickname for me, or tell me he loves me.
With all of those thoughts in my brain today, it's no wonder I'm a trainwreck, crying for no reason. What's next? Oh yeah, not sleeping. It's after one o'clock in the morning and if I were to fall asleep right now, that would be considered my new early. I used to think after ten, or maybe eleven, was crazy late. Now I can't even think about falling asleep that early. The worst part is I'm tired all day, except when it's time to fall asleep. Then, I'm wide awake for hours, with nothing to do but think about these terrible things that prolong my grief.
And since I'm baring my soul here, I might as well say that it's not getting any better. I've been in therapy since December and other than having someone to talk to, because I have no friends otherwise, it's not much help. I wish I had my old problems again. Depression can be helped with medication and activities. Grief is so different. Yeah, I used to feel so alone, but I still had my dad. I still had family. Now, I'm in a city all by myself, far away from home. My dad's gone, and there's no one I want to talk to more than him. I'm almost six months in, and I still lose him all over again sometimes. It hits me, no, it obliterates me, when I remember that I am never going to see him again. That he's gone forever. And, how everything went down just makes everything so much worse. All of that, combined with my already fragile mental state, and my non-existent family/friends who don't know how to approach me now that he's gone, can almost explain why I'm just such a ajdhfkjh mess.
I don't know what to do, how to feel better. Do I even want to feel better? If I stop hurting does it mean that I don't miss him anymore? Is there a way I can still miss him without wanting to die so that I wouldn't have to go through life without him anymore? Is there a way to tell the people from my old life that I'm still in pain and that I need them to acknowledge that he's gone? Is there a way to tell new people that he's gone and I can't breathe, without scaring them off like the old ones? Can I tell people how I'm actually feeling when they ask? Is there a light at the end of this tunnel? Do I want there to be?
I could go on forever, but if you made it this far, thanks for reading. Even if my thoughts are completely messed up, I'm glad I can write all my stuff out here.