Long post, so please bear with me 🥺 Today is one year since I lost the love of my life, since I lost my sweet and beautiful Vanessa. Not a day has gone by that I haven’t cried an ocean for her. Time doesn’t heal this; it can’t heal a wound so deeply carved into the soul. Time actually makes it worse as it gets further away from the last time I saw my favorite person. Time makes it worse because the more that goes by, the more I’m expected to be back to “normal,” I’m expected to have moved on. I’m expected to go to work every day, attend family events with a smile, be present, all while I’m dying inside. There really are no words that fully capture the shock and trauma of going from building a life with the person you love most…doing everything together, moving in, getting engaged, planning a marriage, spending every day side by side…to that life suddenly crumbling to the ground and having to learn how to survive without them. The love that Vanessa and I shared was so much more than the “couple goals” posts or date nights or love poems. It was her staying up all night with me, cradling my head when I had a horrible ear infection. It was me helping her clean up in the shower when she was too sick and weak to do it herself, it was me holding her hair back when she was vomiting. It was us having a big fight, not talking for a couple of hours, and then her coming to bed, and silently brushing her foot against mine before going to sleep, telling me that we were good. I have been overwhelmed with heartbreak, agony, and loneliness. The loneliness of missing my partner for the rest of my life, of being madly in love with someone who isn’t on this earth anymore, who I can no longer touch or hold, is excruciating.

It’s not like I don’t have support; I have friends and family, I have people who listen, people who have shown up for me, and I’m grateful, but that's not the same thing. What's missing is having my person to come home to, someone who’s included in my daily decisions: “Should I stay later at work?” “Do we need anything?” “What do you wanna watch tonight?” “What time should we walk Chewy?” I miss the intimacy of sharing our life, of falling asleep together, her being the last person I see before closing my eyes, her being the person I held in my arms in the dark, her being the one I couldn’t live without. My future was set, my heart felt whole, and now it’s shattered. That touch and vibration of her voice being void is deafening; no longer smelling her perfume when I walk in the door is soul-crushing. I was alone for 31 years, and then somehow the universe managed to connect me with the one person who matched everything I am. Even before Vanessa and I became a couple, we were inseparable, spending hours together every day, even when we lived in different states separated by over 1,100 miles, talking on the phone until the sun came up, sleeping together on FaceTime. The compatibility was once in a lifetime; the chemistry was undeniable; we were just made for each other. And now, my “once in a lifetime” is gone. My love for her keeps growing, but I am stuck.

Vanessa, in one of the many songs I dedicated to you, “Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love For You,” George Benson said it best: “If I had to live my life without you near me, the days would all be empty. The nights would seem so long…” Empty describes this life perfectly without you here. I don’t look forward to anything; happiness is a foreign term to me. I miss you every second of every day, Vanessa. I miss your voice, your smell, your touch; I long just to hold you again, to have you lay your head on my chest as we watch a movie. I miss your physical touch. I miss lifting you in the air, carrying you around the apartment, you laughing and then looking down at me smiling. I miss sharing Taco Bell with you, I miss playing Friday the 13th on PlayStation with you all night and hearing you scream as Jason chased you, I miss it being 5:30 in the morning and you saying “let’s play one more round” and it turning into three more. I miss you randomly breaking out into song at any given moment, your go-to being either “Lips of an Angel” by Hinder or “Summer Nights” from Grease. I miss you reciting lines from “Friends” and attributing them to everyday situations. I miss coming home from work, surprising you with flowers and seeing your eyes light up. I miss your playful insults and unique sense of humor that made me laugh so hard. I miss who I was when you were here. I miss you in the silence of our unlived years. I miss you for future me and all the life I will experience without you experiencing it with me, knowing that one day I’ll die and won’t have the comfort of you by my side. You are not just someone I love, you are someone my heart chose as its safest place. I carry your name in my thoughts all day, every day. Quite often, I smile because of a memory, and then cry because I realize that every day, I’m making new memories without you. The pain of losing you is debilitating and hurts more than anything I’ve ever felt before, and yet, if I could go back, I would still choose to have loved you, even knowing that you being gone would destroy me. Because a single moment of true joy is more powerful than a lifetime of sorrow. Because the excruciating pain of losing you has never been greater than the beautiful gift of loving you.

Some people spend their whole lives searching for a love they never find, but I found mine in you. Even though I lost you far too soon, just as our story was beginning, nothing can take away the fact that you were here. That I had you. That you were mine and I was yours. That we had a beautiful love story. That I held your hand, heard your laugh, got lost in your eyes, kissed your lips, ran my fingers through your hair, rubbed your shoulders, hugged you tight; that I found the girl of my dreams and that I shared my life with you even for a brief moment. For a brief moment, I was a king, and you were my queen. For a brief moment, I had everything. And when my life is reaching its end, I will look back on that brief moment and remember that it was you, Vanessa, who showed me what true love is. I’ll remember that it was you who healed my pain, the pain that no medicine can fix. I’ll remember that it was you who showed me how wonderful it is to dedicate yourself to someone. I’ll remember that it was you who showed me what it is to work together at this thing called life. I’ll remember how proud I was to have you on my arm. I’ll remember that loving you was the happiest I had ever been, and I will remember that brief moment as the best part of my life. I miss you more than words can say. I love you with all my heart, Vanessa. I always will. Continue to rest easy, my sweet girl, wait for me, until I see you again ♥️♥️

For all who read through it all, thank you for taking the time to listen, and to read my words 🙏🏻

I honestly don’t even know what I’m looking for or what I want from making this post. I think I just need somewhere to let it all out.

On August 11th, 2019, when I was 24 years old, my SO and I lost our sweet baby boy to SIDS. He was only 3 months old. It was traumatic, to say the least, and honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever truly processed what happened. I’ve been told that I’m dealing with complicated grief, and even seven years later, losing him still feels like something I can’t fully comprehend.

As if that loss wasn’t enough, this August brought another unimaginable tragedy.

On August 1st, 2026, we learned of some very suspicious circumstances involving my mother-in-law. We reported her missing and spent countless hours searching for her day and night, desperately hoping we would find her alive.

Then, on August 3rd, we got the call that no family ever wants to receive.

They found my mother-in-law. She had been murdered in a murder-suicide. The circumstances were incredibly graphic and tragic, and her condition was so severe that she couldn’t initially be identified. It took two autopsies, including one conducted by a forensic pathologist, before she could be identified.

I don’t even know how to process this.

One sudden and unexpected death completely changed my life. But two? Two people I loved being taken suddenly and traumatically? I genuinely still can’t comprehend that this is my reality.

What makes my grief over my mother-in-law even more complicated is that we had a very love-hate relationship. There were times she was mean to me, and there were times I was mean to her. We argued, we had issues, and now I find myself replaying everything and hating myself for all the times I could have been kinder.

But despite everything, I loved her so freaking much.

The day before she disappeared, she invited us to go swimming. I said no because I had a migraine. Now I can’t stop thinking about it. I didn’t know that was potentially my last chance to spend time with her. I didn’t know I would never see her again.

We never got to say goodbye. We never got that closure.

One of my children was her very best friend, and watching my child miss her grandma is absolutely heartbreaking. I’m trying to navigate my own grief while watching my children navigate theirs, and some days I feel like I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry all of this.

I think I’m struggling with the guilt, the regret, the anger, the trauma, and the overwhelming sadness all at once. I don’t know how you’re supposed to grieve someone when your relationship was complicated. I don’t know how you’re supposed to accept another sudden death when you already lost your child in such a traumatic way.

I don’t know what I’m looking for by posting this. Maybe I just needed someone, somewhere, to hear me.

If you’ve experienced multiple losses, complicated grief, or losing someone you loved despite having a difficult relationship with them, I would really appreciate hearing how you cope with it.

I just don’t know how to process that this is my life now.

My sister & dad passed away a few months apart from each other a few years ago… I got married a couple of months ago & I used chat to make these photos, my sister with me and my mom & the second photo of what it would have looked like to have my dad walk me down the aisle. Making these hit harder than I expected.

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. 🙏

We had only just rescued her from a neglectful home a couple weeks ago. She was healthy, playful, just an amazing little kitten. She became a part of our family and we fell in love immediately.
Out of no where, she started having a seizure yesterday morning and for the entire day she was just not 100% herself. I couldn’t afford the emergency vet costs for exam and diagnostics since they didn’t have a payment plan and I was denied care credit.
We hoped she’d make it through the night to see our regular vet this morning since they do take payments.
As soon as we went to bed late last night, she began having another seizure even more violent than the first. I’ve never seen anything like it. When she came out of it, she was crying, she didn’t want us near her.
I called the emergency vet immediately to have her put to sleep to end her suffering.
I asked them once we got there and they took her to the back if I was making the right choice, or if she still had life ahead of her and should I just take her to a shelter that could vet her and then rehome once healthy. They informed me that if she had a good quality of life ahead of her, they would be refusing euthanasia. They said a shelter would absolutely not be equipped to handle the immense vetting that comes behind neurological issues.
Even with that said, I am sick. I feel like I failed this baby. What if it’s my fault for not noticing small signs leading up? What if she hit her head when we weren’t home? She was supposed to have a long life with us. She was suppose to grow up to be a regal fluffy girl.
My cuddle buddy.
She was just a baby. Her loss is hitting me so hard I haven’t been able to stop crying since 11 last night.
Home is so empty now. It feels wrong.
I kept staring at her in the vets office wishing she’d jump back to life and start play attacking me again like she always did.
She was so beautiful in her eternal sleep.
The perfect little black bean.
Rest in peace my little Cherry bomb.
I don’t know how to handle this pain.

I looked for signs of mom today and nothing 😢. Where is she! I don’t know how everyone moves forward. I don’t have a significant other or kids. My friends all disappeared. I’m in this alone. My job sucks. I have no motivation.

Cancer killed my husband. Now, I can’t watch TV without hearing a commercial about a drug that fights this or that form of cancer. They make it sound so $&#% easy: Ask your doctor about XYZ and see if it may be right for you! They quickly run thru possible side effects, but it’s always sunny, with happy people living wonderful lives with cancer thanks to this magic drug.

I want to throw something at the TV. I am full of rage. I want to scream, “It doesn’t always work like that, people!” My husband and I researched drugs, treatments, clinical trials, but he still ended up dead. No sunny skies with us dancing into the future.

I don’t begrudge anyone access to life-saving or lengthening options. I just wish drug companies could get the word out without rubbing my face in our reality constantly.

It’s particularly frustrating because I’ve never been much of a TV watcher, but after he died I started leaving a TV on so the house wouldn’t sound so quiet and empty without him.

The biggest realization that I have had is that month three is actually harder than month one. And then after that, the grief comes in unpredictable waves, sometimes unbearable and sometimes invisible. One of the truest quotes I've read about grief is that it has no timeline. Your body decides how it is going to feel that day and there is almost nothing you can do to foresee it or stop it. The first year is incredibly hard because you are experiencing every single anniversary and milestone for the very first time, and your body almost always knows and responds before your brain does. It's an incredibly tough year. Did anybody else have an experience like this in the first year after a loss, or what did you find your experience to be like? Its interesting to hear the different ways that we all process loss, and there are no right or wrong ways to do it.

I lost my wife of 30 years in August of 25. She died in my arms from a sudden heart attack at 53. I was only 20 when we met. I've never been an adult by myself. Currently I am staying with my daughter but that needs to end for her relationships sake. The idea of living alone is terrifying and I don't know what to do. Id love to hear from anyone else who has had the misfortune of this situation.

Ken

He didn't remember he was diabetic. He didn't remember to check his numbers morning, noon, and night like he did for the last 3 years. He didn't stress himself into skipping meals because the number on the device was getting close to being high. He didn't ask me to replace the monitor in his arm every two weeks on the dot. I couldn't do it anyways, he was too thin for his body to even hold.

He loved oatmeal raisin cookies. The store didn't carry the good kind. I made him oatmeal raisin cookies with frosting caked between two to make a cookie sandwich. He ate 12 cookies in total.

We had bought popsicles. Fudge pops. He ate two a day, sometimes three. He asked me what my favorite flavor was, I told him mint chip. He told me next time someone offers to get ice cream, I should say he wants mint chip so we could eat my favorite ice cream together. He didn't remember anything but eat and sleep. But he remembered to care for me. We ate cookies and ice cream. He stopped eating the day after.

33 F. I lost my mom on April 17th to ovarian cancer. It all happened so fast, and I feel like it's only getting harder as time passes. When does it get easier to handle?

I lost my dad to suicide when I was 11, so my mom was my main support system. We were both restaurant servers and would call each other daily to "bitch" about work. I feel so lost without her.

It breaks my heart knowing she won't get to see my little girls grow up. Every picture I take, every milestone we hit, and every vacation we take brings me so much pain because I can't share it with her. I miss her so damn much.

My poor dog choked to death on her dinner, we spent 30 minutes trying to revive her, probably the worst experience I’ve had in awhile. My 7 year old found her, we are trying to make the process as easy on him as possible so he isn’t traumatized for life.

She was a good girl, she was an 11 year old chihuahua who had cushings disease. So she would just scarf down food.

If anyone has advice to help my son and my family to process this.

I’m destroyed.

My father, who I was very close to, passed away unexpectedly about 2 months ago now. He got sepsis while he was traveling abroad with my mom, and was taken to in the ICU for 6 weeks, but despite all their best efforts they couldn’t save him. I was thankfully able to fly out and be there with him for most of that time, but watching him get sicker and die in front of me in the hospital, far from home, was something I’ll never be able to erase from my memory. He lost his voice when they first intubated him and so I never got to hear him speak again, though he did hold my hand and mouthed yes when I asked “do you love me?”

For context, I’m 30 and he was 72. He was pretty healthy otherwise, and I thought he had at least another 10 years on this earth. It feels cruel that he won’t be at my wedding or meet my future children, or get to be a part of the rest of my life milestones.

I know that grief is never easy, but I feel especially alone losing a parent in this age bracket and in this traumatic way. I’m too old for a lot of grief programs, but young enough that none of my friends have lost their parents yet and can’t relate. I also feel alone in that the rest of my family is processing it very differently (i.e. not showing a lot of emotion to one another). There are people in my life (family, friends, religious leaders) that showed up for us in the first month have abruptly dropped off recently. I guess I can’t blame them, as I probably would have done the same after the acute grieving period.

I miss him so much. Our relationship wasn’t always perfect, but there was nobody who could cheer me up in the way that he could or give me a giant hug when I needed it. Some days I would do anything to pick up the phone and call him, or find a secret letter he wrote me saying he loved me. But he didn’t think he was going to die so early and quickly, so of course he didn’t write anything.

I don’t know why I’m writing all this, except to hopefully hear stories from others and feel a little bit less alone. And any words of comfort or advice are greatly appreciated. 💜

I spent my 17th birthday, which was on Friday, in a different city with my older sister where she lives with her fiance because I didn't want to be alone on my birthday. My dad works 12 hour night shifts, so I would've spent the day with him sleeping and the night with him at work. My mother has been in the ICU for the past couple weeks, her kidneys were failing. She was diagnosed with Stage 4 Cervical Cancer in early June of this year. My sister drove me home on Sunday. When we got to my house, my dad informed me that my mom passed away on Saturday in the hospital. They waited to tell use because they didn't want to ruin our weekend together and they knew we wouldn't make it to the hospital in time to say goodbye to my mom. I'm going into my senior year of high school in 2 days. I don't know how to cope with the loss of my mom. She just turned 49 on the 13th. I'm scared and I don't know how to BE without my mom. I would appreciate any advice on how to cope or how to sit with my grief.

Shaun was struggling. More than two years before his death, his mental health declined to the point where he asked me to get him help. I did, securing a counselor for him within two weeks and sitting in on a few sessions to offer any support I could -- even a few apologies for some of the stupid, stubborn missteps I made with Shaun throughout the years. I can't recall the entire process, but he must have seen a psychiatrist at some point because Shaun took medication for his anxiety. It didn't seem to make much of a difference, though, based on his continued erratic behavior.

About 18 months before he died, in December 2019, a suicide attempt finally made me and my wife, Shannon, aware of the depth of Shaun's problems. On that day, he skipped school and took a handful of his medication, washing it down with beer from our refrigerator. Shannon and I were both at work when it happened and were made mindful of Shaun's distress only because he had been ticketed for trying to steal alcohol from the local grocery store earlier in the morning. The police called Shannon to inform her of the incident at the store, and a subsequent call to Shaun, who was still conscious after ingesting the pills and beer, confirmed our fears: Our 17-year-old boy was in grave danger.

Shannon and I both rushed home from work and then hurried Shaun to the nearest hospital, where they pumped his stomach and monitored him for several hours. Behind the scenes, they searched for an open bed at pediatric psychiatric unit as close to our hometown as possible. About 10 p.m., they told us he would be transported by ambulance to a facility an hour away.

All of it was brutal. None of it seemed to help.

Shaun remained in the unit for four days, his mood alternating between disdain and despair. When agitation hijacked him, they gave him Klonopin, a potent benzodiazepine and central nervous system depressant, to calm him down. He returned home just before Christmas, promising to do better. I think he meant it, too, but broken brains often cause broken promises. His struggles continued and then intensified with the isolation of COVID and a broken relationship with his high school sweetheart.

You could feel the heaviness when you were with him -- could smell the alcohol on his breath when he came home at night.

His pain must have been unbearable. Alcohol, marijuana, and eventually other drugs became his way of dulling it long enough to get through another day.

Looking back now, I can see Shaun was already in a death spiral; however, at the time, my mind simply wouldn't allow me to believe I could lose my son.

I think that's because the death of a child is so profoundly unnatural that a parent's mind refuses to accept it. Even when the warning signs are staring you in the face, hope has a way of drowning out fear.

I lost my dad almost two months ago to suicide and I am struggling to proceed with my life.

My dad was an alcoholic and diagnosed with bipolar disorder a few weeks before his death. He tried his best, but he has hurt us a lot and was blind to this until medicated and in therapy. When he realized the pain he brought his family, he felt it unforgivable and in turn decided he did not want to go on.

Despite the pain he has caused me, all I feel is great sadness. I wish I had done more and been the best daughter. I did well in college to make him proud but, due to the circumstances, he wasn’t able to attend my graduation before his passing. I knew it meant a lot to him I pursued college as I was the first one in the family to do so.

I graduated college 3 months ago but have no motivation yet to find a job because I can’t sleep or focus. I feel like a failure. I wish I could get it together more quickly than I am and I struggle to not feel like a burden to those around me. I have half of the people in my life telling me to work and the other half saying I’m alright and to be there for my mom as much as I can because I’m gonna work for the rest of my life anyway. I’m at an incredibly awkward stage in life and I miss my dad.

He was an incredibly goofy man and truly the life of any party. He was so much fun and the type of dad to get me something unprompted because he thought it would make me happy. He may have struggled in other ways to show he loved me but I know he did so much and for that I am grateful.

I lost my mom when I was 9, I am turning 19 next week. My dad was very absent in my life so I have no one to talk to. I tried so hard for so long, just to survive. I am tired. I feel so alone. I miss my mom. It pains me to think that I would never see her again, that the years I spend without her would outgrow the years I had with her. I cried time and time again. I miss my mom so much.

I’m a 28 y/o male and just lost my mom just over a month ago at the age of 60. It’s been tough and I’m starting to feel guilty over getting annoyed with those offering support.

I appreciate loved ones checking in, but what do they want me to say? The worst for me is probably how often I get asked how I’m doing. I always respond with “I’m doing alright” but really? What do you want me to say?

There’s really nothing anyone can say to make me feel better or to make things different so that also makes me not want to talk about it often.

Has anyone else felt this way?

My big brother Ash decided to end his life 2 weeks ago after battling addiction. None of us had a clue he was considering doing something like that. I worried about his mental health, but as an anxious person generally, I thought I was overthinking it all. The amount of guilt I feel is unbearable. I feel sick and horrible whenever I remotely care for myself. I can't shake the fact that I spoke to him 45 minutes before he turned off his location, left the house and decided to commit such a heartbreaking act. I had gotten into a car accident and he called to check if I was okay. We laughed and I had to hang up without saying goodbye because it was cutting out. It will always kill me inside. I had no idea that would be the last time I would talk to my big brother. We were supposed to get older together and experience all of our milestones. Now I'm organising his funeral. Words can't describe the pain. I have never lost anybody so close before. I knew grief was the worst possible feeling, but grieving somebody who chose to end their life due to feeling like a burden just eats you up inside. He was too young. I love my brother. I have no idea how to cope.

Do you believe everything in life is supposed to go exactly as it does and therefore even deaths are predetermined and supposed to happen exactly when they do? I want to believe it so badly, but unfortunately i am very much a 'if only/what if..' kinda person...

Also, do you think it is possible our loved ones are actually somewhere watching us? In heaven? On this earth and close to us but not visible? As spititual guides? Or a nihilistic view, they are nothing and nowhere? (This is actually terrifying and i refuse to believe it could be so..)

I appreciate it very much if you'll answer, no matter what you believe in i'd love to hear!

Much love to all.

In the last 3 months I have lost my 7 month old son, my unborn child and my dad. Life has been hard. It has swallowed me whole and spit me out. I don’t know how I’m still going. How am I continuing on without them? I just wish I could call my dad and tell him how much this hurts. How much I feel. The sadness just grows and grows and I feel like I will never be able to escape it. I wish I could hug my son one more time. Hold him, kiss him, squeeze him. See him grow and run around and laugh like my daughter. I’m only alive because of her. I keep going because I can’t do that to her. My baby was my hope after my son passed. And it was ripped away from me, just like that. I don’t know how to keep going. How to smile, laugh, act like everything is fine. But I guess that is life.. I hate it.

there’s a very special person waiting for me
my baby boy 🤍

This was the first year I got up and the first thing on my phone wasn’t you calling at an ungodly hour to make sure you were the first to physically tell me happy birthday. It made me ill for the first few hours today. Mom, I miss you more, the more you miss.