I lost my mom to suicide at 20. My dad struggled with schizophrenia and he passed when I was 24. My brother took his own life when I was 26. These things don’t define them, but I have found these things are defining me. I miss them, I miss what could have been.

All of their birthdays are in Sept, i’m going through a really depressed episode and I see my psychiatrist at the end of the month.

I’ve gone through a lot of jobs since my brother passed. More than 5. I finally have one that I *actually* enjoy, but I’ve called in a bit already. Two months, 6 days, 2 days consecutive each time. The first couple times were because I got sick (my new job works with kiddos). This time it’s because I couldn’t leave bed. The shame is kicking in this time around. My credit is horrible, I’m in some debt, I’ve had to push off my wedding just because we can hardly afford the elopement fees. Things feel so *lonely.*

I feel horribly selfish but I just want to feel some sort of comfort, that it’s going to be ok.

I have this vision in my head of a stable life. Every time there is a road block it’s a reminder of everything lost. I generally try to be optimistic, but it doesn’t feel like I’m getting better/moving forward in my grief if that makes any sense.

Crossposted because I’m seeking comfort, advice, similar stories, words of encouragement…

Hi i’m 21 female
1 month ago i woke up at 3am because i needed to use the toilet and on my way back to my room i found my mum laying in her bedroom doorway, i shook her to try and wake her up and checked to see if she was breathing- she was not. At the time it was me my boyfriend and his 15 year old sister in the house, instinctively i ran to my room and shook my boyfriend awake and told him i think my mums dead he was in shock and came with me back to where she was laying i called 999 and i had to do CPR on my dead mummy for 10 minutes before the ambulance arrived i told my boyfriend to call my brother and sister and they arrived shortly after the ambulance. My mum was pronounced dead it’s a feeling that doesn’t go away. The ambulance left the house and my mum was left laying on the floor for 6 hours until the police arrived, it was an unexpected death, she was an alchoholic and did have heart failure but a few weeks before her death she went to get a check up and they said she had nothing to worry about and they would see her next year. I always find myself thinking about the CPR and i think i broke her ribs preforming it i hope she wasn’t in pain and couldn’t feel it the lady on the other end of the phone for the ambulance counting to four won’t stop in my head. I feel guilty because i always made sure to say goodnight to her every night but i forgot to do it on the night of her death and i spent the day before out shopping even though my sister told me she was sick and i was asked if i still wanted to go out. I just wish i could have said goodbye I love her with all my heart. My dad is absent and has a new family. Living in the same flat with my mum for my whole life is all i have ever known, i just want her back she was my heart and i can’t stop having this gutted feeling 24/7. I feel devastated that my mum can not meet her future grandchildren and will never be able to witness my wedding. I know i shouldn’t but i envy my brother and sister they got to spend 20 years more with her they are both in their 40s and have their own kids which my mother got to meet and partners with their own flats and now i have to start from scratch because the council won’t let me keep a 3 bedroom property in my situation
sorry this was so long, I just feel kind of alone in this like no one i know truly knows what I’m going through.

No close friends I can currently ask for this nor any family members apart from my siblings but lately my relationship with my sibling is also going downhill.

My Dad passed away suddenly in March. I am 29 and about to turn 30, he had just recently turned 70. I know to some people that may seem “old” but he had no evident health problems of any kind (other than arthritis in his hip). I can literally count on one hand the amount of times he was sick enough to miss work/have to rest in bed. He hadn’t had a drink in about 25 years, ate healthy, etc. His passing was extremely sudden and was really a mortal blow to me and my whole family. He quite literally just dropped dead waiting for the train on the way to work.

I’m coming on 6 months now without him and it feels so weird. I’ve lived with my parents for the last 5 years so my everyday life is completely different now. On one hand, my mom and I are learning to adjust. On the other hand, it hurts so bad to know that it’s been so long since I’ve seen him.

I’m still grieving and hurting but it feels like now that I’m approaching the 6 months mark, people’s sympathy is going to run out and I don’t have an excuse anymore for not functioning like my normal self. It’s hard to do everyday things. I’m a dance teacher and I’m dreading going back to work because all I want to do is lay around and do nothing and look at pictures of my dad.

I guess I’m kinda just venting but also wanna ask how you all dealt with it 6 months in?

My mother was diagnosed with lung cancer this week. She‘s a heavy smoker. Her throat is so swollen, it scares me. We don‘t know her stage of lung cancer yet. But just reading up on it makes me bawl my eyes out and shake.

My father was diagnosed with COPD last year. Also a heavy smoker. I hear him cough like he’s dying every day. Two months ago we had to renovate my room and he wasn‘t able to breathe for a bit, to the point I was scared he was going to die.

I go to bed never knowing if it‘s the last time I will see them again every day.

I don‘t have anyone else. I can‘t sleep without meds or eat.

I‘m 24. I was diagnosed with AVPD and SZPD and depression since I was 18. I can‘t function by myself. How will I survive on my own, if I‘m barely hanging on currently?

How will I survive?

I actually feel like I‘m going insane. I don‘t think I will survive. I never wanted to be born in the first place.

I’m writing this here because Reddit feels safe. Idk if I will send this but when I tell you it was the most cathartic thing I’ve ever written….

Dear Dad,

There are so many things I have wanted to say to you, and I think I’ve spent years trying to figure out how to say them without sounding angry, without sounding ungrateful, and without making you feel attacked.

But the truth is, I am angry.

And I am hurt.

And underneath both of those things, I think I am still just your daughter who wishes her dad would show up.

Since Mom passed, it feels like we lost you too.

I don’t know if you realize how much of our lives you have missed. Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t. But there have been so many moments when I have looked around and thought, I wish Dad were here.

I got a new promotion. You never asked me if I was proud of myself. You never told me you were proud of me.

I moved to another city… for the third time. You never came to see me.

My boyfriend of 3 years died. You never checked if I was okay and truth be told some days I felt like dying or taking my own life.

I got married. You never asked me about the man I chose to spend my life with. You never seemed curious about who he was, what he meant to me, or whether I was happy.

And those things may sound small when written individually, but they aren’t small to me.

Because they aren’t really about a promotion, a city, friendships, or a marriage.

They’re about wanting my father to know my life.

Wanting you to be interested in the woman your little girl became.

I think about that little girl sometimes.

The one who believed her dad was one of the most important people in the entire world. I looked at you like Superman. This strong presence in our lives that always knew how to fix something. I swear I’ve seen you lift up a whole trailer or car.

I remember the father who put pictures of us on his desk at work because he was so proud of his daughters.

The father who showed up to every track meet, every basketball game, every dance recital. Even when he had worked a 50 hour work week.

The father who came home on Valentine’s Day carrying teddy bears and flowers for all four of his girls.

That father existed.

I know he did because I remember him.

And maybe that’s what makes this so painful.

Because I don’t know what happened between that father and the father I have now.

I don’t know when you stopped wanting to know us.

I don’t know when our lives became something you could stand on the outside of.

And I don’t know why.

I have tried to make excuses for it. I’ve wondered if you were grieving Mom in ways I couldn’t understand. I’ve wondered if you were struggling with your own pain. I’ve wondered if there was something you needed from us that you never knew how to ask for.

But eventually, there comes a point where understanding someone’s reasons doesn’t make their absence hurt any less.

And I need you to understand something about what your absence has done.

We don’t stop needing our parents when we become adults.

We just get better at pretending we don’t.

There have been moments in my life when I wanted to call you first.

When something wonderful happened.

When I was scared.

When I needed advice.

When I wanted someone to tell me, I’m proud of you.

And sometimes I’ve stopped myself because I’ve learned not to expect you to answer that call in the way a father should or at all.

That’s a very painful thing for a daughter to learn.

I also think about the day you die.

I hate admitting that, but I do.

I think about standing there knowing that you are leaving this earth, and I wonder what exactly I will be grieving.

Will I be grieving the father who put our pictures on his desk because he couldn’t have been prouder of his girls?

Will I be grieving the father who sat in the stands and watched every race, every game, every recital?

Or will I be grieving the father who should have been there for all the years that came after?

The father who should have watched us grow into women.

The father who should have celebrated our accomplishments.

The father who should have visited us in our new cities.

The father who should have wanted to know the people we loved.

The father who should have been there for the ordinary moments too—the phone calls, the dinners, the holidays, the random conversations about absolutely nothing.

Sometimes I wonder if, when you die, I will be mourning a person or mourning a relationship that never got the chance to become what it should have been.

And that thought breaks my heart.

Because I don’t want to spend the rest of my life grieving someone who is still alive.

I don’t want to have to wait until your funeral to finally say all of the things I wish I could say to you now.

I don’t want our relationship to become a collection of memories from childhood because those are the years when you were present.

I want more than that.

I want to know you.

I want you to know me.

I want you to know who your daughters are now… not just who we were when we were little girls.

And I want to be able to tell you about my life without feeling like I’m imposing on it.

I don’t need a perfect father.

I don’t need you to somehow make up for every year that has passed.

I don’t need grand gestures.

I need effort.

I need curiosity.

I need a phone call sometimes.

I need you to ask how I’m doing and actually want to hear the answer.

I need you to show up.

Because there is still a part of me that believes the father who loved his little girls so fiercely is still somewhere inside you.

And maybe that is why I haven’t completely let go.

I am not writing this to punish you.

I’m writing it because I am tired of pretending that your absence doesn’t hurt.

It does.

More than you probably know.

And as much as I have grown accustomed to living without you being present in my life, I don’t want to become so accustomed to it that I stop hoping you might choose to be.

Mom’s death changed all of us.

But losing her made me realize something I wish I didn’t understand so deeply: life is too short to keep waiting for people to realize they should have been there.

You are still here.

And so am I.

So if there is any part of you that misses the little girls who once thought their dad was the greatest man in the world, I want you to know that those girls grew up.

But they didn’t disappear.

They’re still in us.

And one of them is still waiting for her dad to look at her and say,

“I’m proud of you.”

I hope someday you do.

Not because I need your approval to know my worth.

But because I deserved to hear it from you.

And because, despite everything, you’re still my dad.

I love you.

I just wish you had chosen to be here.

Your favorite daughter

I went through a shoplifting phase after losing my dad suddenly in my teens. It has now been over 7 years since the last incident but I feel profound shame for what I have done in my past. I also engaged in other reckless behavior but I struggle with letting go of the shame

The whole day was rough because the bride’s dad is such a good dad and I kept remembering how I wont be able to experience that with my dad. Weddings are taken VERY seriously and I know absolutely no attention can be taken off the bride and groom. I know the etiquette and I know the day isn’t about me in the slightest. Even though im well aware of that, I was having a really hard time holding it together. I’m usually really good at holding in my emotions in public but throughout the day I would start tearing up at times. The worst part was during her dads speech. It was a beautiful speech and he kept saying “i will show up i will be there.” oh my god that was HARD!!! but I kept saying to myself “it’s not about you, today isn’t your day HOLD IT TOGETHER!” but i couldn’t. I had to make an excuse to leave for a couple minutes. i’m feeling guilty for getting emotional because i don’t want anyone to think about me because it’s not my day. and im hoping no body noticed. this sounds so silly but part of me was wishing her dad would come up to me and say “i see you, it’s gonna be okay” obviously that’s not something that would happen because im not his daughter but i just needed someone to help me in that moment.

not sure what i want to get from writing this, i just wanted to share. i definitely won’t be going to any more wedding anytime soon.

I don’t look at them with - pure - jealousy, but truly curiosity. I enjoy observing. Hugs being exchanged. Gifts being given. Writing this at the Cheesecake Factory happy hour, at the mall, to paint the picture for you. It both fills me with joy and sorrow, at the same time.

Im 18,my father was murdured when I was 3, im part of a ethnic group most people haven't heard of, and everyone knows your business. My father had alot of friends I guess and I see them at celebrations all the time and they always shake my hand and chat about my father but I never know who they are or if im even related to them. I feel like I would have been happy trying to be like my father, but I can't be expected to be like him if im not given a shred of the same guidance he had. I dont know it just always felt like fake support to me. Half the time, they're the ones that start crying.

I dont know,it makes me sad sometimes that he's dead and angry other times because of the fakeness and lack of support growing up

And I still miss him terribly. He was my best friend and the greatest Dad and such a hard worker. I love you Daddy. Photo is of my Dad in 1970, way before I was born, riding my Mom’s horse on one of their first dates. 🙏

It feels bittersweet to have someone to call dad after so long. My mom hated me for years before he passed, so I haven't had loving patents in over half my life. It's weird. I'm not ready for the pain of my second dad passing eventually, but, at least I'm coming back home

Is it just me? Or is this a universal feeling all orphans feel? The sadness and jealousy of watching my friends my age or even older people enjoy a meal with both their parents healthy and alive. Laughing, taking trips together, chatting, making new memories. I try not to be jealous of others, I know everyone in life has their own journey and this is mine. But I haven’t had this for so long that it eats away at me. It’s like the person who can’t get pregnant watching everyone else with their babies. The one thing you so desperately want, you can never have. And you try to be positive and focus on other good things in life but omg is it hard 😭

Looking for grief support groups

Anyone in the New Hampshire area (specifically the Seacoast area) knows of any grief support groups for those who have lost someone to suicide?

My mom died almost 2 years ago from cancer. Im 35 and my 12yo was just diagnosed with autism. With her diagnois I've been doing a lot of self reflection and realizing I am most likely autistic too.

I really wish I could talk to my mom about everything and about my teen years where I was horrible to her (likely due to autism meltdowns after school) and she was a saint. I want to apologize for that time period and I know she would be the biggest supporter. She would probably feel terrible we didnt realize this earlier.

I have rarely gotten emotional about her passing, but now I just really want my mom...

My dad died when I was 16; I just turned 17 on the 28th. I'm already isolated from all of my peers by this overwhelming sense of grief; I dont know what to do. Navigating high school is hard enough with all of the stupid teenage emoiton, its a total mess, and my life feels totally cliché being this tragic, heartbroken anomaly. I have to ask, does it truly ever get better? Will this holiday, once my favorite, ever be normal again? I'm trying textbook ways to feel better: therapy, exercise, routine; this is the most difficult thing I ever could have imagined, and it was just thrust onto me without warning. My father was the most important person to me in the world. I dont think I'm ready to pour my heart out on here in full depth, but I can say it is certainly a struggle to live day to day.

My anchor, worldview, care for my future- it's all shattered. I understand many of you are older, wiser than me, more experienced, and smarter. Please, if there's anything you could say to me, I'd love to hear any words. I'd be willing to answer any questions at all, seriously.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope some of you might have some thoughts, experience or words of advice of encouragement.

I (40F) lost my father when I was 18. This year in February I lost my mother, and a month later in march my twin sister took her own life. I was extremely close to my twin sister, i lost half of me.

Needless to say I am struggling hard. I am also mother to a 5 year old boy. His dad and i have always been open to having a 2nd kid, but it just did not happen. Having our son took us 3 years and afterwards we never used protection, but i am adamant about not wanting medical intervention to get pregnant, i didnt want it to take over my life and mind, and we decided to let nature and fate run its course.

I have always had some guilt about raising our boy as an only child, but the guilt is eating me alive at this point. He has no siblings and now half of his family is dead. He has no first cousins (my sister did not have kids and my husbands brother is also child free). We do live in very family oriented neighborhood with loads of kids his age, he plays with them every day and we are good friends with all our neighbors so its is a kind of community.

I also have a very close friend group with whom we spend holidays, vacations etc. they have kids his age as well. He goes to school, loves it. He is around his friends every day, But is is not the same as blood relatives.

I worry so much about his future and happiness. About how alone he will be after we are gone. It breaks my heart. I feel like I've been selfish for having him and not trying harder for a second. I have even thought about going to a fertility doctor, ivf etc. Just to try and give him some family. But i know that i cant make these decisions when my sister and mom died less than 6 months ago. I try to be a present mom and now he seems like a happy kid but i worry so much about his adulthood. I am just so scared he will be lonely.

Crying while typing this, sorry if my story is a bit incoherent. Thank you for taking the time to read and/or respond.

My dad died last year, and this has become an increasing pressing thing which bothers me all the time. Whenever i speak to anyone, unless i know them well theres a VERY high chance that they will mention the phrase “ask your parents…” “do your parent…”. It is a constant for so many people.

The constant assumption that everyone has two present parents (many times also further making the assumption of them having a mum and a dad) excludes SO many different circumstances and living lifestyles. It’s not even only about a parent passing its about so much more and this construction built in so many peoples heads just makes things so difficult.

Whenever someone tries to ask me about my “parents” or even for those who don’t know me about if my dad does something, it’s harmless but it just hurts so badly knowing that so many people are accustomed to thinking that people just have that available to them. It reminds me that the default to most people will always be that and it also makes me feel like there is something wrong with me for not having that. A pang of guilt for a single two words being a reminder of such a difficult topic for me.

I do acknowledge i am a sensitive person, and i understand to some this doesn’t mean anything to them. I also get that many people have this unconcious bias without meaning to and don’t realise how this can affect people. I don’t expect this post to suddenly change society as we know it and I know as many things that have happened as a direct result of my dad dying i will just have to deal with it myself and i wont be accomodated for. It just makes me feel for so many people who have to go through this too.

There are people who rely on single parents, there are queer parents (*), there are people who have a dead or dead parents, there are fostered or adopted children who don’t consider their carer/s their parents, but they all get lumped into that single phrase. That doesnt bother all of them, but i have see how it bothers a lot of them. I hope this changes someday.

(* mentioning this as they don’t fit the heteronormative idea of what people assume parents to be)

For context
I am 32 years old male.

My dad passed from cancer when I was 7 years old and then lost my mom to brain hemorrhage when I was 28 years old.

In 2024 I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis [Chronic Condition] i am doing good so far on meds.

I usually have a very positive outlook of life, but obviously grief gets to you at times. Recently I was talking to my friend and he was very stressed out because his parents are getting old and he was just sharing with me and crying that he’s so scared that one day he’s going to lose his parents, but then he thinks about me and and gets inspiration.

Now I know he did not mean it in any negative way but that just added more to my grief because it is such a shitty feeling to be somebody’s worst example. I already feel like a failure after being diagnosed with a chronic illness and it’s already hard.

I just wanted I just wanted to share and lighten my heart. Hopefully somebody have some positive aspects to share.

I am falling apart right now. My mom and dad both died 10 months apart. My mom's 3 year death day is coming up on September 28th. I just seriously need her right now. I'm 41, married, 2 kids. But I have no one to turn to during tough times like I could with her. She just understood me. She didn't make me explain what was wrong. Just knew something was and let me fall apart. My 14 yr old hit me in my head today. Obviously, she got the consequences for that of not being able to hang out with her friends as planned. She exploded and told me to kill myself, hates me, wishes I died instead of grandma, never has liked me, nobody likes me, hopes she never sees me again, fucking just die. It was rough. We have a great relationship, so this hit me like a ton of bricks. I let her calm down and checked on her, made sure she was safe and she said it again. On top of this, just found out my husband's CBT therapist wants him to get evaluated for autism. We've been having super bad issues. I thought if he was able to work on some stuff, there's a chance. Now I feel like what I thought possible will be infinitely harder and a constant struggle for the rest of my life. My son has Down syndrome and our school district we just moved to has proved to be HORRIBLE for students with disabilities. Fuck what online sites says about "A" districts and everything else I read about. I thought I did my due diligence, but it's been a constant fight to get the education and support he deserves like everyone else. There's so much more shit going on along with this and I have to hold it together because my husband is basically useless and if I don't do it, it won't get done. Along with my parents, 3 of my grandparents, my aunt, my favorite cousin, my therapist, and my 17 year old best friend dog died. All in 2 years. The fucking trauma has been too much and now just life keeps throwing grenades. I'm in EMDR therapy, but even that is hard as shit because both my parents deaths were extremely traumatic. I watched both of them die in their early 60's, dad unexpected while I was the only one with him, my mom quickly from esophageal cancer. The only thing that could possibly make me feel better right now is her. It's just not fucking fair. I need to fall apart. I need to feel safe. I feel alone as fuck.

my dad died about a month and a week ago. slowly, i'm trying to clear our space out. nesting. make things less depressing. we lived together. i was his caregiver and the main bread winner. i don't want to say he was a hoarder, but there's so much stuff.

on top of it, my sister is MIA. she has mental health and addiction issues. we were non-contact for over a year until our dad passed. we spoke twice, and then she disappeared. i haven't heard from her in a month and four days. before she left, we also kept a lot of her stuff. she left our home to be homeless after a series of assaults and domestic violence perpetrated by her.

when dad and i moved, we brought some of her stuff. old clothes, possessions, etc, under the sad, unrealistic expectation that any day she'll accept help and come home.

i'm going through his stuff, and her stuff. trying to figure out what to keep, what not to keep. i'm throwing most of her stuff away. it was old, dirty clothes and plushes that she has long since abandoned. i've held onto this stuff for like two and a half years. i just can't anymore.

i picked out some of dad's shirts to save. i don't know. maybe for a quilt, or for a bear. i have a teddy bear made up of my great grandma's favorite nightgown. maybe i will get one of my dad. there's just so much extra stuff though....

some of his fishing gear will be going to a friend, one of my clients through work (ironically depsite what i experienced w/ my sister, i'm a case manager at a DV shelter). a good dad, who is trying hard with his kids. they go fish at the lake sometimes. i'm going to keep the tackle box, but he can have the rest.

that leaves me with 3 giant tubs of pictures, random family heirlooms, items belonging to my great-great-great grandparents. i'm trying to sort it all, but it feels like everything is just being shoved into another box.

and god, all the childhood drawings, paintings, school work. all the way back to kindergarten. both my sister and i's. i don't know what to do with that. i don't have storage space, but i am touched my dad kept it so long. i feel like throwing it away would be an insult to him, or be inconsiderate of how hard my dad worked to keep everything together and undamaged.

i don't know. i'm having a hard time. i'm working 3 days a week (sometimes 4 or 5 if we have no coverage) and am trying to clean my house out on my free days. i just would love some advice. especially with the childhood stuff. did you guys keep it? should i just leave it in the storage tub?

My wife, 38 years old, have been diagnosed with terminal cancer. We have two wonderful daughters age 10 and 6.

I am at loss at how I can help them, and scared they will grow up scarred and emotionally damaged.

I will devote my life to their upbringing and safety.

I hope it is ok asking in this forum, but how can I support them best and make them not feel so alone. Any good examples I can follow?

My sister, her 25 year old daughter and other moms in the area will be there for them, but that is no substitute to their actual mom being there.

My dad died a couple months ago and his birthday is still far away but i’m kind of unsure what I’m gonna do on his birthday so what do u guys like to do?

TLDR: how fast did your surviving parents new relationship went and how did that make you feel??

My husband past away 5 years ago due to cancer. My children where 8 and 11 back than. For 4 years noting else changed in our lives. I picked up work eventually again, I left basically everything in our house the same and didn’t have any relationships. During these 4 years both my children got an ASS diagnose. After those 4 years i met a wonderful man, who doesn’t have children of his own, and shared a lot of common interests with my children. It felt so good and secure that I introduced him pretty quickly to the children. After 2 months he stayed for the night the first time, after 4 months we were talking about living together. My children like the guy but find his position, understandable difficult. We have every understanding of that! So we always planned to take it as slow as we can. But we couldn’t deny the fact that it felt very very good and that he is a real good addition to the household both emotionally and practically. For the children too! He really helps me with managing everything without meddling with my way of raising the children. And supports both me and my children emotionally if we need it respecting our grieve and my late husband in the proces. 10 months after we met he started unofficially living with us, after 14 we changed that to officially living with us. All this time very little changed at the house. His bed moved to my bedroom; my eldest got mine. He occupies one room to work from home 1 day a week, and the content of some closets have been changed. That’s bassicly it. (Edit: oh and we’re using his dining chairs how, mine were getting beaten up) We’re now 20 months in and the children are turning 14 and 17 next month.
Up till now he still owned his own house but is now ready to sell that. So the rest of his things will need a place in the house. He’s getting rid of a lot, but wants some with him obviously. I tried talking to the children about some things we could change in the living room to make space for his stuff, changing coffee table, maybe move the dining table so we can add an extra cupboard in the kitchen, that kind of things. But they keep telling me it’s all too fast and they don’t want anything to change. I definitely understand them but really want to change some things still. So I figured, can someone relate to this? Have you experienced this and how did you/your parent deal with it? How did it make you feel? I’m trapped between asking my partner for more time and putting his stuff in storage or putting my foot down and changing a bit more to make space for his stuff and getting rid of some of my mine..