bereavement

Sorry, this is longer than I thought it would be...
My husband died 11 months ago. He had Alzheimer's. He was quite a bit older than me. When he died at 74 we had been married almost 30 years, and for half of that time the spectre of Alzheimers was growing and progressing until its inevitable end.
His mother also died from Alzheimers and it was his greatest fear. I cared for him alone until a couple of years before his death, when it was no longer safe for him to stay at home. I thought once that watching my mother succumb to cancer was the hardest thing I'd ever have to do - I was wrong.
Sometimes there were moments of real closeness and it made my day when his face would break into a wide smile. The last words he said were to me, before he lapsed into unconsciousness were, 'I'm quite happy' and he smiled. It was his last gift to me and I will always treasure that memory. Or I hope I will, if my memory remains functional.
His loss sits like a lump of granite in the centre of my chest, but there is at least as much grief that the last years of his life were so awful.
Amongst the funny moments and the tender moments there were some truly awful times; like when he believed he was possessed by the devil, and was trying to throw a brick through someone's window to get arrested, so that he would get locked up where he couldn't hurt anyone. Or when he barricaded himself in our home because a drugs gang were coming to sieze the property. Or when he broke down in tears because he couldn't remember how to peel a banana.
I don't have any kids, and being his carer was incredibly lonely. Other people just don't get it, and you've now become the only adult in the relationship. People stop inviting you places when you can never go, and eventually they stop asking.
They think it just means your memory gets worse, but you lose executive function, and the effects on the body can be devastating. They say, 'but you know its not really him now, don't you?' Like that's supposed to be comforting. I never bought into that. If it wasn't him then who or what was he? He was different, but I refused to deny his humanity, or pretend that he had somehow already left the building. If in the end all I could do was walk with him and bear witness to his life as long as he remained, then I would do that. As our time together was coming closer to its end, every moment was precious.
He was diagnosed early, and we talked about it and his wishes while he was still able, and I would encourage everyone to talk to their nearest and dearest.
Now it's just me. No family. Even in his diminished state, I was his number one person. I'm no-one's number one now, and I'm terrified of a future where I'm as vulnerable as he was. I was his advocate, his carer, and his wife, and I'm afraid now of growing old alone with no-one to do the same for me.
I scattered his ashes on the shores of Loch Lomond on a blustery day that would have been our 30th wedding anniversary. I thought my heart would break - it felt very final - but as the wind whipped his ashes away, I remember thinking, 'you're free now.'
#AlzheimersDisease #Carer #Lonliness #Grief #bereavement

As you know, my beautiful cat was very poorly. By Friday, she had lost 350g in three weeks, she was severely anaemic, with very low red blood cells, haematocrit & haemoglobin. The symptoms pointed to #Cancer , either in the #pancreas , or #
abdominal lymph nodes. I had a chat with the vet and she mentioned euthanasia at some point down the line. We got Tara home and she just went downhill really REALLY quickly. She stopped eating altogether, having only been picking at her food.
My husband and I had a chat on Saturday and we came to the decision that, although it would be hard for *us*, it would be kinder for Tara to ease her suffering so we made the appointment.
We tried to give Tara plenty of cuddles but she spent all of her time on the duvets in the cupboard in the office.
So, come Monday 4pm GMT we set off for the vet for Tara's final journey. Because of #COVID19 restrictions the vet took Tara in first and then came out for me (only one person was allowed to be present when a pet was put to sleep). We talked about Tara's bloods and the vet said, going by what she'd seen, it was more likely than not to be cancer. I was absolutely petrified but when I went in, there was my wee girl on the pink onesie she loved snuggling on. I spoke to her, told her I loved her and, as the vet gave her the injection, I held her paw and she slowly and peacefully fell asleep.
I'm absolutely heartbroken. I know it was the right thing to do for Tara: if we'd not taken her when we did, she wouldn't have seen out the week & if the cancer had spread through her body & to her brain, she'd be suffering beyond belief and I'd hate to see her like that.
Anyway, thank you so much for reading. It feels good to get it all down.
#Depression #BorderlinePersonalityDisorder #Anxiety #Cancer #bereavement
PS the picture was done by a friend on Twitter.
PPS apologies for any spelling mistakes

This coming January will mark 2 years since I lost my brother to suicide. My brother and I both suffer / suffered from severe mental health issues, and both of us have made multiple serious attempts to take our own lives. He was the only one I could talk to, who really understood what I was going through, and I was the only one who truly understood what he was going through. Tragically, he was successful in completing a suicide. I had this tattoo done in his memory. He was big on formula one racing, hence the racing car. The starting / finishing flags with his date of birth and year of death. Instead of a number on the car bonnet, it's the green mental health ribbon. #Suicide #personality disorders #bereavement by suicide

On November 3, 2020, my doggo of 10 years crossed the #Rainbowbridge . He was my constant companion, and he saw me through some really bad 💩 over the years. My kids picked him out at a shelter, so he was all I had left of my kids’ childhoods.

When he was diagnosed with a mast cell tumor, I was hopeful we could cure him. Unfortunately, that type of tumor is especially aggressive in German Shorthaired Pointers (GSP). We got three month from diagnosis to saying goodbye, even with aggressive treatment. But, I did everything I could possibly do for him, and I have no regrets. He was a good dog, but it was his time to go where I cannot follow. Hopefully, he is running and playing with the dog we had when my buddy came to live with us.

In the meantime, I’ve adopted the wild birds and squirrels in my neighborhood! It is late autumn/early winter in the American Midwest, and wild food sources are getting thin. My feeders have become a favorite hang out of about nine different species of birds, some of whom I’d never seen before starting this project. I get a great deal of peace watching them just outside my bedroom window. It’s very grounding at a time when I need all of the help I can get.

Adopting the wild ones has helped me deal with my grief. I think fondly on memories of my Max, but I don’t feel sorrow or depression. The birds don’t replace him (and he would have chased them all away if he were here), but they give me something to care about and something to take care of. They give me purpose for those times when the pit swallows me up and the lies in my head get loud. My birds need me to stay and fill up the feeders on occasion. That is reason enough to stay, for now.

We lost this beautiful baby 72 days ago. I miss her every second. My life will never be the same, I don’t know how I’ll learn to cope with this pain. I’ll be brave for her because she was so brave for me. Mommy misses you sweet girl. #bereavement #angel #baby #NICU #Crying