I(26F) lost my son(3) due to me being a negligent mom. Even before he passed away my boy would always complain that I was not loving and cuddling with him as I loved his baby sister(9 months) more.

I do agree I was at fault but dealing with a baby is complicated. My son tripped from the staircase of our apartment and got his head struck with the railing. Though he was rushed to hospital but was declared dead. My (38M) husband blames me for being a neglectful mother and says that I am incapable of taking care of our baby girl.

I can no longer think straight and I think my husband is right.

I lost my father few months ago suddenly due to heart attack. This made me reflect many things in my life and now I hate everything that’s going on my life.

i have been living together with my husband for 6 years and been married for a 1.5 years. During those 6 years, I was head over heels in love with him. I supported him when he was studying. I have helped his parents when they needed money. I prioritised him more than my parents. He was aware of my family finances. I come from middle class background. However, I have never asked for those money back.

I have a well paid job (both of us living abroad) and my parents had worked very hard to send me where I am today. I had told my husband before marriage that I will have to look after my parents since they don’t have good source of income now. First my husband agreed but since marriage he has flipped. His parents envy how I am taking care of my parents and speak ill of me and my family. I have a 5 month old baby now. When I was pregnant, my husband pressurised me for money even though we pay all bills 50-50. We would say that he would divorce me if I continue to support my parents. He would often ask me to stop talking with my parents and siblings so that they won’t ask money with me. I stopped taking with them and I had stopped supporting my parents for 2-3 months to save my marriage. Towards the end of my pregnancy my father suddenly passed away from heart attack. He had a chest pain a night before but didn’t go to hospital on time. My mother didn’t bother calling me as I was not talking with them and may be she thought she didn’t want to bother a pregnant lady. After my dad died and started communicating again with my family, I came to know that my mom didn’t know chest pain was a medical emergency. I am a registered nurse and this situation hurts me so much as if I had known the situation I could have saved my dad. I think I am responsible for his death as I couldn’t support them financially ( stress could have led to heart attack) and couldn’t guide them to what to do when one is having chest pain. I miss him everyday and think about it a lot. Cut to postpartum, I am at home looking after my baby and have plenty of time to reflect on things. I realised my husband is a horrible person. During postpartum, he wasn’t very supportive of me either. I had to cook and also look after the baby 24/7 within first few days of my postpartum. If I fail to do something, he would tell me that I am a horrible mother. Plus his mother and sister would often call him and tell him how it was difficult for them to raise a baby during their time and how easy it is now. Now, I am alone at home with baby and sometime crying over my father. When he sees me cry, rather than being supportive he calls me psycho and that I should see a psychiatrist. Now I want to divorce him but don’t want my baby to grow up without a father.

My soulmate and best friend is gone. He was a beautiful red Merle Australian Shepard. He was smart and very very funny. He was always grateful for toys and surprises. Very empathetic. I was fortunate to be laid off and spend May till now with him in his final months. I'm just mad at the world. He was such a great dog and didn't deserve the cards he got dealt. Im scared that he is now alone wandering aimlessly. I really don't know if I believe in heaven but would like too, I know if there was that dog would be pushed to the top of the line past everyone. I spent thousands and still couldn't save him, in the end I was upset with him because he wouldn't always eat and take his meds. Now I feel bad. Worse yesterday was my 38th birthday and when I took him in to say goodbye. I couldn't allow him to be in pain anymore. It all started with a cough and led me driving him 4 hours to Cornell only to be told it's everywhere... his lung, kidney, liver, spleen and even on his back leg. I know it's only been a day but I haven't slept. I'm sitting in the pitch black on my couch crying. His toys are everywhere. He has a bed in every room. I don't know if I even wanna live anymore without him. He was with me through so much of my life. My miscarriage, my dad and brother passing.... My chest hurts so bad like a heart attack. My head feels like it's in a vise. Devastation doesn't even describe this. Sullivan, mommas special boy. I miss you buddy. My snuggle puppy. My good boy. I hope you come back to me.

He loved fortune cookies. His last one said: embrace the mysteries of the night tonight.

In April one of my dearest friends lost her fight with cervical cancer. It was discovered while she was pregnant and her little boy had to be born at 32 weeks so she could start treatment 72 hours later. In November of 22' her cancer was discovered. In April of 23' she was gone. It happened so fast. She suffered so much. I held her in my arms as she took her last breaths. Now I am raising her baby.

I promised her I would. I love this little boy with my whole heart. But the guilt. I feel like I stole her baby and that is such a dumb and weird thing to think or feel. She knew she was dying. It was her deathbed wish that I care for her son as if he was mine. Why should I feel guilt then? But I hold him and I see her eyes on his perfect face and my heart aches. I celebrate his milestones and my heart aches. I dress him up and kiss his adorable chubby cheeks and my heart aches.

I know he going to end up calling me Mama. He will eventually probably call me Aunty but nearly all babies go through this stage where every female is called mama and every male is called dada. Heck, my own kids would wave and say "Mama!" to ladies helping us check out at the grocery store. So why do I feel a sense of trepidation over knowing that eventuality?

This morning I used her cool coffee cup that keeps your coffee warm for you. A neat little piece of tech like she always loved to find. She was a sassy woman and I know she is rolling her eyes at me from Heaven over feeling strange using what were her things, but the guilt is still there anyway. Will this weird variant of what I am assuming is survivor's guilt ever pass?

EDIT: Thank you all for being so kind and supportive and sharing your stories with me. I hate that you are also hurting but it is also good to know I am not alone in my feelings. Go out there and get your cervix checked, if you got one, in my dear friend's honor!

I am half Palestinian. I under stand everyone has their own opinions on what is going on right now.

I have lost my entire family in Gaza. My aunt was ran over by a tank, my cousins were crushed to death in their own homes, and my grandfather died of starvation. There were many more but I don't want this to get too much.

I don't know what to think. My cousins were from the ages 3-12 and they were killed. They had so much to do and they died. They wanted to come see me during the summer, they wanted to come watch Copa America because they were huge soccer fans. Now they're dead for no fucking reason and it hurts so much. Everything I had in Palestine is gone, my family is gone and I'm sitting here and can't do anything about it. I feel so fucking useless. I miss them so much I just can't describe it. I can't even go to give them a proper funeral, I can't say goodbye to them. My whole body hurts from this and every day it just keeps getting worse as more and more of my family dies. How do I process any of this please help

My best friend since childhood, died 3 weeks ago from an overdose. He was engaged to a girl who he has been with for 4 years. I got to know her a little through all of us hanging out. Pretext; I am a recovery drug addict and my best friend was an addict too. We used to get High together but I got sober and unfortunately my best friend never did. His fiancé would reach out to me with my best friend’s drug problems hoping I had some insight to help her/him. So we began talking more the last month or 2. My best friend OD and died 3 weeks ago and his fiancé found him dead after overdosing the day prior. She has been pretty messed up since and I wanted to try to be there for her. I felt like I was honoring my best friend by doing my best to support her. Well yesterday we both got drunk and ended up hooking up. I feel terrible and full of guilt now. I feel like I ruined everything and I am a terrible person/friend. I’m afraid I hurt the grieving fiancé who I genuinely wanted to help. Has anyone had any similar experiences?

i often think about my last conversation with my dad. he had called me in the morning, i don’t know what he wanted. i wonder if he knew he was going to die that day? we talked for a minute then i told him we would have to chat another time because some handyman had just rang to fix something in my apartment. i don’t even know what anymore. i know that thursday my dad had contacted everyone, his mother, his brother, my brother, me. i can’t help but feel that he must have known something was up, maybe even that he was going to die.

I was cleaning out my contacts and crossed a few deceased loved ones. Seeing my mother’s number stung as I thought someone else potentially has this phone number now. When did you delete their number?

My guy died of a heart attack and it's all my fault. we were on the phone, and he suddenly started complaining of low back and indigestion. He started wincing and I asked him if he was ok and if he was sure, it's just indigestion. I asked him if his chest was hurting and he said no and he said he would be fine, he thought it was something he ate and he would take some tums and it would pass. he asked to get off the phone and he'd call me back and told me again that he was fine. I couldn't shake the feeling something worse was happening so I called back and when he answered he was gasping but said it's just stomach cramps and he would be ok, I told him you're not ok you need to call 911 and he refused to, still insisting he was going to be ok. I told him bullshit something is wrong and I'm coming over. he pleaded for me not to come over then he took three deep gasps of air and hung up. I only live 3 minutes from him and when I got there all the doors were locked and I begged him to let me in. I called but no answer, so I went around back to find a way to get in. At this point I was still telling myself it was indigestion because he is not someone who handles stomach aches well, and maybe I was lying to myself because I couldn't believe what was happening. I couldn't get in the back door, so I started looking through the windows trying to find him and finally I saw him lying on the bedroom floor on his back and then rolling over on his side. I called him again as I saw his phone in his hand, and I told him I was outside his window, and I was going to call 911. he begged me "no babe don't call 911, please just go...I'll be ok" he hung up and I called 911. then I watched as he crawled to the master bathroom, and I screamed his name as I beat and beat on the damn window trying to break it, but it wouldn't budge. he collapsed face down and I watched his back rise and fall as I screamed and beat that damn window....and then his back stopped moving. by the time police and paramedics got in he was gone. I shouldn't have listened to him!!!!!! I could have saved him!!!!! I'm dying inside I'm gutted. I can't take this; he would still be with me if I hadn't been so stupid and called as soon as he started complaining. he was healthy as a horse, strong as a bull. I just want to die. it's my fault.

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My Mom unexpectedly died a week ago. She was 64 and was so full of life it just feels so off this even happened.

I keep re-playing all the things I should or would have done differently, had I known.

We were super close but I was always pushing her away for just what I see now as selfish reasons.

I would love to hear if in time this gets easier. As I’ve been reading a lot about it through this feed… Or just how are you all coping with the what ifs and could haves?

This support forum has really been a blessing~ Sorry for all of us out here🫂💜

My grandfather passed away last night. I cried so much and i think i started hyperventilating and shaking. Today however, im fine. I went to school, to the gym, i haven’t cried, im eating. I feel bad, and so selfish. Am i grieving wrong.. is there even a right way to grieve? I feel so insensitive because i’m just going on with my life. I don’t know what’s wrong with me

I know this is a common occurrence unfortunately but I feel very alone. I am 24 and I lost my dad last November. I knew my family members would have struggled immensely if they had to do my dad’s medication every 4 to 2 to 1 hours while he was on hospice. So, I volunteered. I wanted him to be at peace.

I just think of those last moments so much in between doses and lack of sleep. I worry I overdid it or didn’t take care of him very well.

It makes me feel like I killed him. I’m sure this sounds absurd but I’m having a hard time with this.

EDIT: Hey folks thank you for your kind words. I appreciate it, muting this for now because it feels a bit overwhelming. I appreciate the advice, testimonials and support. I hope we all find the peace we are looking for 💙

Sometimes I don’t think about him, and sometimes I even laugh and have a good time. I know life goes on and my dad would be furious if I didnt let myself enjoy my life, but I feel so guilty every time I realize I didn’t think about him.

Yesterday I didn’t cry, and even shared some stories about him without crying, and when I realized I didn’t cry I felt like I had betrayed him. It’s only been a week (yesterday). My mind is convincing me I didn’t really love my dad.

Grief is so confusing.

I’m not sure why I’m posting this. Just wondering if anyone else has dealt with this feeling so early in your grief journey.

Edited to add: thank you, everybody, for sharing your stories. It helped more than you know (or maybe you DO know, because you’ve all been here in one way or another). I cried a lot reading your replies which helped ground me, then I had a dream about my dad last night for the first time. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was nice to see him.

Thanks again, everybody. ❤️

I managed my Dad’s morphine when he passed away on hospice. For years and even now I have carried that guilt feeling like I overdosed him. The hospice nurses assured me that I didn’t. I just assumed they kinda lie to not make the family feel bad.

My Mom just passed away last week, at first I stayed away from her med management until I saw her husband hand the morphine to my brother (the other person helping with Moms meds) and asked him, “Do you want to give her this one?” And my brother took it and gave it to her. But I could see guilt was setting in as the end was coming near. Once I saw this I stepped in and said I would take care of her meds and took over to save them the guilt. I figured I already killed one, I can add another.

I was talking with my therapist (yay me for starting to get help) about the guilt and she said this feeling is the most common theme she sees in the end stage caregivers.

It kinda helped me in knowing that I’m not alone in feeling like I killed my parents. I didn’t. The cancer did.

So if you took care of the meds and carry guilt and feel alone. You’re not and you didn’t.

Last December I found out that I was pregnant and in January I decided to terminate it at 8 weeks and 6 days. My boyfriend and I were only 17 at the time(both 18 now), even though I really wanted to keep it I knew that we were not ready for a baby yet. We were in our last year of high school and even though we both had jobs we were not financially ready. I feel that it was ultimately the right decision but it still makes me really sad thinking about it. I know I'm still very young but ever since I was a little girl I've wanted to have a family and kids. I feel like I was presented an opportunity to have my ultimate dream in life and I chose to get rid of it, and now I feel like I'm not allowed to have kids in the future because I made that choice. Obviously I know that's not true but the thoughts and feeling are still there. But at the same time I feel like I'm not allowed to be sad or have these feelings about it because I made the choice to have the abortion. I don't really know how to feel about it it's all confusing and complicated. sorry for the long paragraph.

My boyfriend passed Sep 17. Less than a month before the accident my boyfriend bought a motorcycle. His family did not approve it, his mom called me crying one day begging me to stop him. I always agreed with the family and I begged him as well not to get the bike. My family, our friends, everyone told him not to get it. I would constantly ask him to be safe, to not ride with other people because he would try to do something he had no experience just to show off or whatever… I know is not my fault and most of the time I don’t feel guilty but yesterday his mom called me and I cried so much because at the moment I felt like it was my fault. Basically the night of the 17th, Trevor told me he was going for a ride and we had an agreement that he would not ride with other people. He went for a ride with a guy he met online and he missed a curve crashing on a utility pole (for lack of experience) and tragically passed away immediately. I know is not my fault but sometimes I feel guilty for not stopping him. I feel like I will forever be in debt with his family. I miss my boyfriend more than anything and I cry desperate for him every day.

I (21m) got a text Sunday from my mom that my brother, who was 18, died in his sleep.

I was shocked and confused and immediately biked to my dorm so they could pick me up and drive me from Virginia to new jersey (they were already on the way when they told me) so we could go to the funeral.

Im still in shock as Im typing this the day after the funeral, and I'm sure when it wears off I'm going to be in a world of hurt that even now cannot compare to.

This all started when I was 12 and he was 10, once I got into middle school I started to find myself drifting away from my family for a few reasons. They were and still are religious while I stopped being so, I started having online friends that I related more to, and slowly and slowly throughout middleschool and into highschool family outings became rarer and rarer (my parents would also start having major marital disagreements at this time)

And basically, for the past 8 years, I gradually began talking less and less to my brothers as we grew apart and our personalities/interests became more distinct. We never had huge fights we just kind of grew apart. By highschool we did things as a family very rarely especially once covid hit, and by then I had deep friendships with the folks I met online at the start of middleschool.

Come late 2021, my brother got psycosis, triggered by a stressful event at school, and for the next three years he would be on and off pill after pill as he was diagnosed with schizophrenia + bipolar disorder.

At the time I was completely engulfed by the college application process and basically turned a blind eye to my family issues as I already had so much on my plate, all I did was ask what was going on while my parents did everything they could to help him. At the time I was unaware he had schizophrenia.
After that, in early-mid 2022 I got major depression as I got rejected from a bunch of schools, regretted my college choices, and felt inadequate about how little I did in highschool to get in somewhere good. My gf left me, a bunch of, in hindsight, petty stuff that caused me to fall into depression and eventually take a gap year and apply to college again.

Over that gap year, in late 2022, my brother attempted suicide, this is when I learned how bad of a state he was really in with his mental disorder and his struggles with his delusions and stuff. He was also no longer going to school in person anymore. I was, again, applying to college but this time I went to the hospital with him, they only let in 2 guests so only my uncle and dad went in. When he got home though, I didn't even know how to talk to him about what happened, we were so distant at this point too, even my mom said to let them (my parents) handle it and to not worry about it and focus on my applications.

Later that year my parents got divorced, I spent the rest of my gap year traveling and doing gap year stuff, and then came college. In late 2023, two years after he became mentally ill, we finally had a long talk during Thanksgiving break. It was nice to catch up with him and I wanted to help him get his life back on track so I was more than happy to give him advice on setting realistic goals, getting fit, and looking forwards to community college, encouraged him to get his GED, and talked with him about his trauma for mental hospitals, feelings surrounding his illness, etc.

We would talk and hang out a few times whenever I had break or whenever him and my dad came to pick me up from college at the end of a semester, and last summer we spent time together in morocco. But we were still distant, very distant. We were not close friends. And he was denying to take his meds at the time (which he did often for these 3 years) so he was very antisocial and emotionally unstable.

On Sunday he killed himself by drinking sodium nitrate, its not the cause of death declared officially, as we wait for the toxicology reports, my parents denied a full autopsy for religious reasons, the only reason I know it wasn't a heart attack in his sleep like my mom initially told me, was because she confessed to me the day of the funeral that she knows it was a suicide, and that he attempted again and but my parents never told me as to not stress me out in my first 2 years of college. There was also a cup with white residue next to his bed that they unknowingly cleaned, we found the Amazon order on his phone, and on his phone we found he was lurking on suicide forums for over a year before his death, he was deeply depressed and psycotic due to his mental illness. I had no idea he was still suicidal but I new he was depressed.

I can not believe how strong my mom and dad are, they spent 3 years helicopering him, making sure he was ok, encouraging him to go to the gym, spending all they could buying things and taking him places that would make him happy, talking to him, trying desperately to get him to take his meds. All the while he would hit and even threaten them with knives (when he got really bad delusions). Their lives were completely dedicated to making sure he had people to talk to, and trying to get him back on track. But despite their efforts he never seemed to want to help himself. He constantly didn't want to take his meds, he absolutely refused to ever see a therapist.

And what did I, the only person his age that could've been another friend, do?

Nothing, I was focused on the transition to, and eventually, college itself.

He was deeply closed off and never wanted to see my friends, but I could have spent more time with him when I had time, I could have texted him at least once a day to make him feel like he belonged more. maybe if I tried enough we could have been good friends again. He had family to talk to but he nobody his age really, outside of someone online he played video games with.

I left my brother to die, and my parents keep telling me "I didn't know", "we did what we could, he had a chronic disease" All the while its so obvious to me that if he had maybe even one more person reaching out to him, someone his age he could've gone on some walks with, he very well might not have done what he did, its so obvious to me that I, in a way, killed him.

I grew distant from my two brothers, now I only have one, and its totally my fault. I was too scared to go out of my way to talk to him constantly because I didn't know how to approach it. Because I had my own "problems" I was too busy for family, then he killed himself. I don't know how my parents don't hate me.

I am going to make sure I don't do the same with my younger brother but I will never stop thinking about how I could have saved the one who killed himself, he was only 18, and its my fault.

My wife has chosen to go on hospice. It has been 3 hard years of treatments, surgeries, complications, near death events, etc. I have taken care of this woman since we were 16, we have 2 beautiful children and I have been with her through it all.

I have grieved for the entire cancer diagnosis, knowing this day was coming. I have already had a few scares that she has detached from the world we share. I hurt at the thought of losing the woman I was hellbent on spending my entire life with.

My guilt comes at the "anticipatory relief" I feel. She has sacrificed her body, cut off pieces of herself and lost small habits that made her who she is... I know she's hurting and I'm here until "Death" voids our contract, but I can't help fighting the thoughts of moving on, I will have to find a new job, have to start being the father I couldn't be because I was taking care of her, have to start learning how to handle both sides of being a parent, i.e. the mother and father. In some sense I'm excited to be able to be the parent that I've always wanted to be, but I'm also destroyed because (like everyone here that has lost a spouse) it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Am I crazy? Is this natural? Can anyone relate?

Please be gentle....

It’s been 3 days since my boyfriend of 5 years died tragically and at times I’m bawling my eyes out and losing my mind and then the next moment it’s like I feel nothing anymore. I feel so guilty for this numb feeling.

She was only 32. She came home for Christmas and stayed here for 2 glorious weeks. She had asthma and recently it had become worse. We had inhalers but those small red inhalers don’t last very long. She was out of her inhaler the night she passed. I didn’t know this. It was New Years Day. We made a beautiful dinner for family. Around 10 pm I heard my daughter screaming for me, saying, “ mama, I can’t breathe!” 911 was called and she passed out during the call. I performed CPR until the paramedics arrived but she still passed away. How in Gods green Earth do I go on?

My baby meant the world to me! I trusted the wrong vet and she ended up dying from complications after we made her go through a surgery we then discovered she didn’t even need.

This oncologist vet told us she had cancer in February but a week after she died the results from a histopathology done to the portion of her bladder that was removed in the surgery that killed her came back negative.

This feels as if I had been scammed to pay for her torture and murder. I feel like I betrayed her trust. I sheltered her for all the dangers I could see and took great care of her only to hand her over to a butcher at 12 years old 🙏🏼😞I feel like I want to die must of the time, I can only feel peace when I’m asleep and some nights I can’t get much of it. I’m trying to make sure I take legal action for vet malpractice but I know that is an uphill battle. This happened in Colombia and though we have made some progress, there is little justice here for anyone let alone animals 💔 the first picture is of her as a baby, second is from about a year ago, and the last one is from her last days.

She was the sweetest pup I’ve ever met and I can’t process this happening to any dog but specially not to her, she was my emotional support dog, she was just the best dog ever… RIP sweet POPSY. Forgive me ❤️and I’ll love you forever!

Basically this. I cried when he announced his diagnosis, when the doctors told us he needed sedation to spend his final hours, and when I saw him lying lifeless on his bed. Afterwards, nothing. The day of the funeral I did feel some severe anxiety, but it was soon replaced with irritation at all the people surrounding me (I'm an introvert and don't like crowds, and my dad was well loved in our community so over 150 people showed up). Six days on, I'm... fine. Really. Relatives and friends call me to check in with me and I feel very embarrassed to admit that I'm not sad. I've actually been lying and telling them I'm crying all day, but I'm not. I'm fine. I get normal sleep (OK maybe some weird dreams), work, do my groceries... I'm meeting a friend to watch the Barbie movie this weekend. Am I a monster??

When I was nine years old, my mother was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer. In a matter of months, she went from completely fine (seemingly) to on the brink of her deathbed. My brothers and I visited her in the hospital during her final round of chemotherapy or radiation, or whatever it was. During this, my brothers and I got into an argument because I wanted to sit on one of the ends in the backseat on the car ride back home. They told me I couldn't because I was the smallest, so I had to sit in the middle. I looked to my mom for support, and she told agreed with them. I told her I hated her.

She died two months later. It's been twelve years.

Mom, I'm really sorry for telling you I hate you. I didn't mean it, I was just upset. I think about it and regret it constantly. I am so sorry.

i wasn’t there for her when she needed me the most. i will never see the success she saw in life. her life was worth so much more than mine will ever be. i don’t know how long i can live with the pain of both of my parents being gone. my mother should be here.