I lost my 27 year old son to overdose five years ago. My grief is constantly changing. The day he died my old world shattered, and I’ve had to figure out how to live in this new sadder, colder one. Some days are harder than others. Hugs.
Apparently it's been 864 days for us, since our 24 year old daughter left Earth. To feel okay, I mostly remind myself that she's in a much much better place now, which makes me happy for her, even though I miss her like crazy. Many many NDE videos, the book Heaven, by Randy Alcorn, lots of prayer get me through it. We'll never be the same, but we must keep going.
I'm so sorry you lost your girl and I really appreciate you reading and adding your voice to this conversation. I know you'll help other parents who are grieving by sharing your story here ♥️
Substack and posts like this have saved me. I have been able to talk about Evan and his sudden death more in the couple of months since I joined here than I have in the nearly 20 months since he left me. Thank you for helping me realize I'm normal, even when I'm at my most antisocial and don't want to see anyone who lives outside the walls of my home. Jason, my heart goes out to you. I'm so sorry.
It makes me so happy to hear my writing and this community have been so helpful to you JoAnn. I'm so sorry you lost you boy. It's the worst thing a parent can experience.
You're navigating something that seems intolerable at times and you're still here. I don't know if that makes you normal or not...who is, really? But it makes you inspiring to me and I want to make sure you know that, friend. ♥️
Thank you Jason. I can recall the day I realized I'd never be normal again, and eventually accepted this is a good as it gets for me while I'm still on this earth. I am inspired by the stories I read here, and that there are others who live in their own self made bubbles. My faith has brought me this far. Your writing really touched me and i thank you for having the courage to write and share. 🫂
I’ve been best friends with that cursor as well. Writing about not wanting to write makes for some of the best posts. Like this one. My old sponsor used to say it’s ok to get in a rut just don’t decorate it. Great insight as always. 🙏
"And I know there will be many more hard moments. I might experience them for the rest of my life. As I grow, my relationship with them will change."
I have not lost a child, but I lost my loving partner of almost 41 years in 85 days from diagnosis. It was initially a gutting, then for two years a persistent emotional rollercoaster, sometimes for days and sometimes for an hour. At the advent of the third year without him, I began to tell funny stories and share heartwarming memories with family and friends. I am happier, but still lonely. Do not expect a miraculous cure, but a slow and steady improvement where you learn to be grateful for your time with your daughter. I call it rebirth. Hold onto the love you and your wife share, for your daughter still holds a spot with the two of you. And, keep writing about it as I did. It helps.
I love the idea of looking at this experience through the lens of rebirth. You've given me a perspective I hadn't considered before and I'm grateful for it! ♥️
I have written before that setting aside the old life and storing it in a proverbial treasured box on a shelf to pull out occasionally lets you engage with the world in new ways. Contemplating what is lost will only keep the sadness with you. Charitable work has done me wonders. I have tackled food insecurity in my community. I seek to make my husband proud each day, and you should do the same for your daughter. Find a place for your grief to be productive.
My family has a team of cyclists and volunteers in my husband's name. Through Pelotonia, we raise money for cancer research annually. This will be our fourth year, and we hope to have 13 team members. It's a real, honest-to-goodness feel-good. We will surpass $50,000 raised this year.
I know this place Jason. Dom took his life just over 4 years ago, and not a day goes by that I don’t feel the pain of this moment in my very core. But some days are worse, as you explain so well. There is no rushing out of it, is there. Just individual moments when we choose to honour the process and show ourselves self-compassion. Sending love x
Straining to feel through the fog helped me actually feel clearer over time. It eventually lifts to reveal answers , but only on its schedule, not mine.
I can not imagine this type of grief. I have known grief and yet the grief you process is a deep one. Thank you for sharing, so beautiful, and it means anything I am really proud of you. Every day you choose you and continue to be with all that is.
I felt so much of this. Especially the lines: “I thought by this point I’d have the pain confined to a manageable, secure box… Of course, that’s not what’s happened. Instead, it’s slowly infiltrated every aspect of my life and my soul. It’s a toxic fog that I can’t escape.
“It’s not toxic enough to kill me. Just enough to sap much of my energy, creativity and enthusiasm.” Man. They hit hard.
I am walking in the dark with you.
P.S. You’re showing up here. (That’s not to be understated.) And it makes me feel not so alone. So well done, and thank you.
Grief is an invisible cloak we wear for the rest of our lives. Some days it is heavy and gray; some days it is not as forefront in our mind. I know this as well. My daughter, f22 has been gone just over a year now. Writing about my grief helps and that is why I’m here.
Grief is a constant companion when you lose someone who is dear to you. It does morph over time, but has the capacity to hit you hard--forever. I am a fan of David Kessler, grief expert who worked with Elizabeth Kubler Ross. Helped me sit with and understand my own grief and loss.
I lost my 27 year old son to overdose five years ago. My grief is constantly changing. The day he died my old world shattered, and I’ve had to figure out how to live in this new sadder, colder one. Some days are harder than others. Hugs.
I'm so sorry you lost your son Donna. Thank you for being here ♥️
Apparently it's been 864 days for us, since our 24 year old daughter left Earth. To feel okay, I mostly remind myself that she's in a much much better place now, which makes me happy for her, even though I miss her like crazy. Many many NDE videos, the book Heaven, by Randy Alcorn, lots of prayer get me through it. We'll never be the same, but we must keep going.
I'm so sorry you lost your girl and I really appreciate you reading and adding your voice to this conversation. I know you'll help other parents who are grieving by sharing your story here ♥️
Substack and posts like this have saved me. I have been able to talk about Evan and his sudden death more in the couple of months since I joined here than I have in the nearly 20 months since he left me. Thank you for helping me realize I'm normal, even when I'm at my most antisocial and don't want to see anyone who lives outside the walls of my home. Jason, my heart goes out to you. I'm so sorry.
It makes me so happy to hear my writing and this community have been so helpful to you JoAnn. I'm so sorry you lost you boy. It's the worst thing a parent can experience.
You're navigating something that seems intolerable at times and you're still here. I don't know if that makes you normal or not...who is, really? But it makes you inspiring to me and I want to make sure you know that, friend. ♥️
Thank you Jason. I can recall the day I realized I'd never be normal again, and eventually accepted this is a good as it gets for me while I'm still on this earth. I am inspired by the stories I read here, and that there are others who live in their own self made bubbles. My faith has brought me this far. Your writing really touched me and i thank you for having the courage to write and share. 🫂
I’ve been best friends with that cursor as well. Writing about not wanting to write makes for some of the best posts. Like this one. My old sponsor used to say it’s ok to get in a rut just don’t decorate it. Great insight as always. 🙏
Thank you brother. Your sponsor sounds wise indeed ♥️
"And I know there will be many more hard moments. I might experience them for the rest of my life. As I grow, my relationship with them will change."
I have not lost a child, but I lost my loving partner of almost 41 years in 85 days from diagnosis. It was initially a gutting, then for two years a persistent emotional rollercoaster, sometimes for days and sometimes for an hour. At the advent of the third year without him, I began to tell funny stories and share heartwarming memories with family and friends. I am happier, but still lonely. Do not expect a miraculous cure, but a slow and steady improvement where you learn to be grateful for your time with your daughter. I call it rebirth. Hold onto the love you and your wife share, for your daughter still holds a spot with the two of you. And, keep writing about it as I did. It helps.
I love the idea of looking at this experience through the lens of rebirth. You've given me a perspective I hadn't considered before and I'm grateful for it! ♥️
I have written before that setting aside the old life and storing it in a proverbial treasured box on a shelf to pull out occasionally lets you engage with the world in new ways. Contemplating what is lost will only keep the sadness with you. Charitable work has done me wonders. I have tackled food insecurity in my community. I seek to make my husband proud each day, and you should do the same for your daughter. Find a place for your grief to be productive.
My family has a team of cyclists and volunteers in my husband's name. Through Pelotonia, we raise money for cancer research annually. This will be our fourth year, and we hope to have 13 team members. It's a real, honest-to-goodness feel-good. We will surpass $50,000 raised this year.
I know this place Jason. Dom took his life just over 4 years ago, and not a day goes by that I don’t feel the pain of this moment in my very core. But some days are worse, as you explain so well. There is no rushing out of it, is there. Just individual moments when we choose to honour the process and show ourselves self-compassion. Sending love x
What a beautiful note and I'm so sorry you lost your Dom. ♥️♥️
Straining to feel through the fog helped me actually feel clearer over time. It eventually lifts to reveal answers , but only on its schedule, not mine.
Amen brother ♥️
Grief is a sneaky thief. Thank you for sharing yours with us. We’ll be better for it.
You’re welcome. Thank you for reading and for your encouragement ❤️
Thanks for sharing such an honest appraisal of your current state. It will resonate with many.
Thank you for your encouragement Carolyn. ❤️❤️
I can not imagine this type of grief. I have known grief and yet the grief you process is a deep one. Thank you for sharing, so beautiful, and it means anything I am really proud of you. Every day you choose you and continue to be with all that is.
It means a lot. Thank you, friend ♥️
You’re on your way.
I'm doing my best, friend. Thank you ♥️
We forget about the shades of grey, thank you for helping us all embrace these places which can be murky but are very much part of existence.
I felt so much of this. Especially the lines: “I thought by this point I’d have the pain confined to a manageable, secure box… Of course, that’s not what’s happened. Instead, it’s slowly infiltrated every aspect of my life and my soul. It’s a toxic fog that I can’t escape.
“It’s not toxic enough to kill me. Just enough to sap much of my energy, creativity and enthusiasm.” Man. They hit hard.
I am walking in the dark with you.
P.S. You’re showing up here. (That’s not to be understated.) And it makes me feel not so alone. So well done, and thank you.
We can do hard things.
Grief is an invisible cloak we wear for the rest of our lives. Some days it is heavy and gray; some days it is not as forefront in our mind. I know this as well. My daughter, f22 has been gone just over a year now. Writing about my grief helps and that is why I’m here.
Grief is a constant companion when you lose someone who is dear to you. It does morph over time, but has the capacity to hit you hard--forever. I am a fan of David Kessler, grief expert who worked with Elizabeth Kubler Ross. Helped me sit with and understand my own grief and loss.
Thank you Christine. I love their work too. Especially David Kessler. His book on finding meaning was really impactful for me!