Help Mom passed away

[YukiFox]

My mom passed away February 28. She was 62 years old. That's why I was busy and out of the forum.
She had a series of complications since two strokes, diabetes and blindness (Consequence of their last stroke) and since my family depends of public healthcare, she didn't got the proper treatments in my country of origin.
Since I lived now in Brazil, my migratory status as refugee doesn't allow that easy to travel to another country (Ask for permission to the authorities and that stuff) and even if can got out with a valid passport, I wouldn't afford the flight ticket since all of the savings of our family was to her treatment and furthermore for the memorial service and cremation.
Anyway, I'm in the angry stage of mourning (I think). I tried to accept her death and I had the hope that she would recovered, and in the worst case, lost her feet, not her life. I really want a room to shout all my frustration, since I was out of my country 3 years ago and I only talked with her at cellphone.
Despite my mourning, I don't feel more suicidal for the death of my mom. I have a mixture of confusion, angry and loneliness, but isn't really a trigger to catch the bus.
I don't consider this episode as a downgrade in my recovery process. Since I joined this forum, I had a focus on understand why I had the CTB desires and how to overcome them, and I only had one serious crisis and attempt since 2 years on joining this forum. So, no, this post isn't to talk about if the deaths of relatives triggers the CTB plans , I mentioned to discuss with people who wants to recover but the death of a relative jeopardizes their desires of change, and that's my primary reason to venting my mourning. I don't pretend to find answers, but I want to read similar stories to support each other and had respect for our sadness.
At least, I came out to mom as trans this January and I reveal my name. I really wanted to see the day that mom called me her daughter. Unfortunately, that day will never come.

 

[IdiotInTheMachine]

First I want to express my deepest condolences. I am so sorry to hear about your mother. I am also glad to hear that it isn't interfering with your desire for recovery. That indicates that you have progressed in that regard and have gained some insight there. My grandmother had a series of strokes and ended up paralyzed on her left side (hemipalegic) and we moved her into our home to take care of her. If there is anything I can do to offer comfort please feel free to PM me. Keep strong.

 

[jgm63]

Sorry for your loss

 

[Carina]

I normally stay out of here, but just wanted to say I was sorry for your loss, and the last part of your post (in case you edit, not saying what), but I'm glad it hasn't hurt your plans for recovery.

 

[Reallyreallyreally]

I'm sorry to hear you lost your mom. I'm happy you got the chance to let her know you're trans even if you didn't hear the reply you wanted. Hugs to you.

 

[The Warm Industry]

First of all, my sincere condolences for your mother.

Second, I don't know if there is anything that would jeopardize my desire to improve besides my own actions. I always put it in my head that if i were to do something, I would do it for myself.
My whole life was a shadow play where I had to run to please my parents and I ended up having to hear that "I didn't try hard enough". And I had to watch them walk away and raise their own families while I stayed behind.

After a certain point in my life, I took the maturity to always be the best possible version of myself, regardless of whether people supported me or rejected me, because I knew that if it were to please others, I would never please myself. And that would make the whole recovery process a real spiral.

 

[Responsibleresident]

Just do your best and love yourself.

 

[Lost in a Dream]

I'm sorry that you have to go through this. I lost my mom to cancer a couple of years ago, so I know what it's like, but I'm really glad that this hasn't had a negative impact on your recovery. I hope you can find a way to be happy with yourself, without feeling like you needed her to accept you for who you are to achieve it.

 

[Deleted member 1465]

My mom passed away February 28. She was 62 years old. That's why I was busy and out of the forum.
She had a series of complications since two strokes, diabetes and blindness (Consequence of their last stroke) and since my family depends of public healthcare, she didn't got the proper treatments in my country of origin.
Since I lived now in Brazil, my migratory status as refugee doesn't allow that easy to travel to another country (Ask for permission to the authorities and that stuff) and even if can got out with a valid passport, I wouldn't afford the flight ticket since all of the savings of our family was to her treatment and furthermore for the memorial service and cremation.
Anyway, I'm in the angry stage of mourning (I think). I tried to accept her death and I had the hope that she would recovered, and in the worst case, lost her feet, not her life. I really want a room to shout all my frustration, since I was out of my country 3 years ago and I only talked with her at cellphone.
Despite my mourning, I don't feel more suicidal for the death of my mom. I have a mixture of confusion, angry and loneliness, but isn't really a trigger to catch the bus.
I don't consider this episode as a downgrade in my recovery process. Since I joined this forum, I had a focus on understand why I had the CTB desires and how to overcome them, and I only had one serious crisis and attempt since 2 years on joining this forum. So, no, this post isn't to talk about if the deaths of relatives triggers the CTB plans , I mentioned to discuss with people who wants to recover but the death of a relative jeopardizes their desires of change, and that's my primary reason to venting my mourning. I don't pretend to find answers, but I want to read similar stories to support each other and had respect for our sadness.
At least, I came out to mom as trans this January and I reveal my name. I really wanted to see the day that mom called me her daughter. Unfortunately, that day will never come.

My condolences to you, I'm so sorry. I lost my Mum several years ago to dementia after a fall. I remember the anger and disbelief I felt. All I can do is share my story in sympathy. it's a long story, but I'm happy to share it.

Mum had been surviving in the family home for seven years with worsening dementia, after Dad died leaving her alone. She'd done a really good job, but the point came where my brother, sister and I had to persuade her to go into a care home. My brother lived locally and helped her with practical stuff, but my sister and myself lived around 200 miles away so it was more difficult. I remember almost 10 years of trying to help Mum whilst keeping my job and dealing with my own health, constantly on the road, constantly feeling guilt that I didn't just give it all up and move back to look after her.

Anyway, she had a fall and ended up in hospital. When she came out we tried to get here live in care at home, but she hated it; she actually threw them out! I took a week off work and visited all the care homes in the area and eventually found a really nice one and we moved her in. A sad day. She hated it, but gradually got used to it and we even had some nice times in there. It was a really lovely clean place and the staff were brilliant, the most caring people I've ever met. They looked after me as much as they looked after Mum. I learned a lot about myself just by having them listen to me.

She fell many times. Eventually there was a fall that she couldn't recover from and in hospital they told us to expect the worse. She was discharged back to the care home into the high dependency unit. But she deteriorated. At this point I made a mistake that I'm not sure I can forgive myself for. I bullied the staff into calling an ambulance and having her re-admitted. She went back into hospital.

But the dementia had a hold on her now and that demon can never be denied. Six weeks of her punching and kicking, screaming and swearing, clawing and insulting everyone. It was horrific. There was even a point, when I slept on the floor in her room, that I considered putting her out of her misery. But of course I couldn't. How could I do that? No way. My Mum.

She actually rallied a little and was discharged. But she continued to go down hill back in the care home. Hoisted out of the bed each day. Fed like a baby but not swallowing. She starved and barely took water. Just lay there, dying. Before this I'd been driving a 400 mile round trip every weekend to be with her. I even got wiped out on the motorway by a truck; I put the car back together with scrap parts and was on the road again the next weekend.
Now I just binned work; whatever would happen there would happen. I stayed with my Mum, camped out in the next room which was empty (once again the staff bent the rules for us). My brother and sister and I stayed with her as she died. She spent three days in agonal breathing. Her carers couldn't believe how long she lasted. My Mum was so tough and stubborn. I imagined the reaper standing over her bed every night and her saying 'No, not coming yet, no way.'

But eventually, she ran out of breath. As she died, I heard the birds singing outside and the children playing at the local school at break time.

Then came the anger and the guilt and the grief. We made the arrangements, as you do. Strangely, myself and my siblings grew closer because of the support we'd given each other. It made us stronger.

Then I was made redundant. The job I'd fought to keep was gone. I actually took this as an opportunity and went home, back to Mum's empty house, the family home, now owned by my brother, sister and myself. I painted the house and worked in the garden. I grieved. I went to the doctor, wary of depression and asked for grief counselling. he denied me this and offered me Prozac. I told him where he could stick his Prozac.
Instead, I took all the stones I'd dug from the back garden and everyday i took one rock up to the place where we'd scattered Mum's ashes, the same place we'd scattered Dad's ashes many years before. Day by day a little stone cairn built up. As it grew, I didn't visit as often and eventually I only placed a stone from the path when I happened to be passing. In this way, I physically managed my period of mourning and didn't sink into depression with it.
I was privileged to have been there with her at the end. It must be horrible to not be able to share that with the ones you love.

I stayed at the family home for several years and was happy. Then my illness caught up with me and my bother and sister, once close, now sold the house form under me, forcing me under duress to agree or they would abandon me to my illness.

I wish I could alleviate your grief and all the conflicting feelings that always come with it. All I can really do is offer you my own experience in the spirit of sympathy.

 

[TeenIdle]

I'm so sorry, it must be really hard to lose a parent :(
Sending strength and love your way

 

[oopswronglife]

Grief is just terrible. There is nothing that assuages it but time and even then it's never filled in completely. The stages don't come in a nice order and on schedule. They can come around again and don't care about your convenience. I generally hate trite sayings and how they minimize reality...but "one day at a time" and "one foot in front of the other" are really powerful ones in this case. Losses like this are one time it's completely fine to "make it all about you". Your mom isn't here and suffering now...you are. Care for yourself...you are brave for being who you are.

 

[Broken Chimera]

I rarely come here, but I'm sorry you lost your mom. Ik how hard that is. Pm if you want to talk or vent.

 

[Dear Flabby]

I'm so sorry that you lost your Mom, and that you didn't get to be with her at the end.
Sending hugs and strength to you.

 

[Esc9434]

Diabetes killed my father too.

Long story short, he died of heart failure.

Story shared here:

https://sanctioned-suicide.net/thre...-worst-decision-of-my-life.34065/#post-629437

https://sanctioned-suicide.net/thre...-worst-decision-of-my-life.34065/#post-629452

 

[LADY007]

My condolences to you, I'm so sorry. I lost my Mum several years ago to dementia after a fall. I remember the anger and disbelief I felt. All I can do is share my story in sympathy. it's a long story, but I'm happy to share it.

Mum had been surviving in the family home for seven years with worsening dementia, after Dad died leaving her alone. She'd done a really good job, but the point came where my brother, sister and I had to persuade her to go into a care home. My brother lived locally and helped her with practical stuff, but my sister and myself lived around 200 miles away so it was more difficult. I remember almost 10 years of trying to help Mum whilst keeping my job and dealing with my own health, constantly on the road, constantly feeling guilt that I didn't just give it all up and move back to look after her.

Anyway, she had a fall and ended up in hospital. When she came out we tried to get here live in care at home, but she hated it; she actually threw them out! I took a week off work and visited all the care homes in the area and eventually found a really nice one and we moved her in. A sad day. She hated it, but gradually got used to it and we even had some nice times in there. It was a really lovely clean place and the staff were brilliant, the most caring people I've ever met. They looked after me as much as they looked after Mum. I learned a lot about myself just by having them listen to me.

She fell many times. Eventually there was a fall that she couldn't recover from and in hospital they told us to expect the worse. She was discharged back to the care home into the high dependency unit. But she deteriorated. At this point I made a mistake that I'm not sure I can forgive myself for. I bullied the staff into calling an ambulance and having her re-admitted. She went back into hospital.

But the dementia had a hold on her now and that demon can never be denied. Six weeks of her punching and kicking, screaming and swearing, clawing and insulting everyone. It was horrific. There was even a point, when I slept on the floor in her room, that I considered putting her out of her misery. But of course I couldn't. How could I do that? No way. My Mum.

She actually rallied a little and was discharged. But she continued to go down hill back in the care home. Hoisted out of the bed each day. Fed like a baby but not swallowing. She starved and barely took water. Just lay there, dying. Before this I'd been driving a 400 mile round trip every weekend to be with her. I even got wiped out on the motorway by a truck; I put the car back together with scrap parts and was on the road again the next weekend.
Now I just binned work; whatever would happen there would happen. I stayed with my Mum, camped out in the next room which was empty (once again the staff bent the rules for us). My brother and sister and I stayed with her as she died. She spent three days in agonal breathing. Her carers couldn't believe how long she lasted. My Mum was so tough and stubborn. I imagined the reaper standing over her bed every night and her saying 'No, not coming yet, no way.'

But eventually, she ran out of breath. As she died, I heard the birds singing outside and the children playing at the local school at break time.

Then came the anger and the guilt and the grief. We made the arrangements, as you do. Strangely, myself and my siblings grew closer because of the support we'd given each other. It made us stronger.

Then I was made redundant. The job I'd fought to keep was gone. I actually took this as an opportunity and went home, back to Mum's empty house, the family home, now owned by my brother, sister and myself. I painted the house and worked in the garden. I grieved. I went to the doctor, wary of depression and asked for grief counselling. he denied me this and offered me Prozac. I told him where he could stick his Prozac.
Instead, I took all the stones I'd dug from the back garden and everyday i took one rock up to the place where we'd scattered Mum's ashes, the same place we'd scattered Dad's ashes many years before. Day by day a little stone cairn built up. As it grew, I didn't visit as often and eventually I only placed a stone from the path when I happened to be passing. In this way, I physically managed my period of mourning and didn't sink into depression with it.
I was privileged to have been there with her at the end. It must be horrible to not be able to share that with the ones you love.

I stayed at the family home for several years and was happy. Then my illness caught up with me and my bother and sister, once close, now sold the house form under me, forcing me under duress to agree or they would abandon me to my illness.

I wish I could alleviate your grief and all the conflicting feelings that always come with it. All I can really do is offer you my own experience in the spirit of sympathy.

I am so sorry for having to go through all that. My mother had Alzheimer's and was put in a nearby home after being in my parents apartment and telling my father she was going to call the police on him (because she didn't know him) So he said go ahead, the police came, took her to the hospital and then the nursing home. Six years she lived there. Thank you for your entire description of what happened to you. You touched upon so many things that happen to families.....I feel this information is very important for SS members to be aware of. Hugs to you.