How can I over come the pain of losing someone you love

This old comment from Reddit always comes into my mind when thinking about the death of a loved one:

Alright, here goes. I'm old. What that means is that I've survived (so far) and a lot of people I've known and loved did not. I've lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can't imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here's my two cents.

I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don't want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don't want it to "not matter". I don't want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can't see.

As for grief, you'll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you're drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it's some physical thing. Maybe it's a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it's a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.

In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don't even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you'll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what's going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything...and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.

Somewhere down the line, and it's different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O'Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you'll come out.

Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don't really want them to. But you learn that you'll survive them. And other waves will come. And you'll survive them too. If you're lucky, you'll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.

Keep floating.

https://www.reddit.com/r/Assistance/comments/hax0t/comment/c1u0rx2/

I lost my mom last year after a wasting illness, so I can really empathize with your situation. The pain will come and go over time. There's moments when it still really hurts, and moments when it's like a little emotional scar, a little stiff place in my chest when I think of her. The only real cure is time and distance from this painful moment. But give yourself time to grieve and time to feel what you're feeling. I don't know if you have anyone you can talk to about it, but if there's a grief counseling group you can take part in, it can be helpful to share this experience of loss with other people going through the same thing.

I'm so sorry about your loss, OP. It sounds like your mother was a wonderful person. I'm so sorry for what happened.

I doubt if anyone here is going to be able to say the magic words that will take your pain away, I'm sorry to say this. However, I have dealt with a lot of loss, and I will tell you one thing is that over time, no matter how terrible your grief is in this moment, that intense pain does pass. It will get less and less over time, sometimes in such a way that you don't notice, until one day you will be looking back and realize that your heart is healed. It doesn't mean you might never be sad when thinking of your mom, just it won't be this gut wrenching, awful intensity that leaves you wondering "how do I stop this, I can't take it?". You will be able to think of your mom and smile, and remember the good times. Just remember that this pain isn't forever.

Secondly, there is one thing that has brought me great comfort whenever I have lost people. Step back, and think about who you are as a person. What does it mean to be you? I do not know how you might answer this, but for me at least, I seem to think I am a collection of a few scattered things in my mind: beliefs, memories, mostly. I realize that when I have loved someone, they have become part of those memories, they have helped shape my beliefs. In this sense, they are literally a part of who I am (and vice versa). This has always made me feel like the people I love are always with me, even when they are not with me any longer. I hope this makes sense, though I know it might be of no comfort right now.

Please take care of yourself, and remember, as awful as this pain is, that tremendous grief means you loved someone tremendously. There is something beautiful in this.

Finally, please make sure not to suppress your grief. This can hurt you in the long run. Reaching out to people you care about can be helpful too.

Maybe there are some nice things about your mom that you can share with us. What did you admire the most about her?

I’m about to lose a family member here in a few weeks/months and this post on IG popped up - heres the original on Billy Bob Thorten losing his brother https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=4Pn3y7S5FAw

I haven’t searched for anything on the topic so no algorithm, just a coincidence or maybe some sort of fate that I came across it a few hours ago and and then this post now. Maybe it’ll be helpful as a perspective.

My condolences to you and your family.

It takes time buddy, and therapy if you need it.

I've spoken of this on here before. I lost my Brother four years ago last month to a motorcycle accident. He went out on his bike on a Saturday morning and met the front-end of an F150 on a winding British country lane. It was gameover, you don't walk away from that.

I found out from his sister (He was my BFAM) later that day via a phonecall when I was in the pub with mates waiting for him. My entire life stopped. I remember sitting on a little utility box for something like 30 minutes just trying to process that information. Went back into the pub and someone made the remark of "Mate, you look awful has someone died?!" and had to break it to them... that yes, someone important had.

I remember going to his home the next day and his father just collapsing into my arms, this was the man who inspired both my Bro and I into riding bikes, working mechanically with our hands and generally being clever smartarses in conversation... the damage happened to my soul right there.

Only in the past one or two months have I started feeling "normal" and really adapting to that missing person in my life. I think of him daily in many ways, "I miss him", "What would he do here?", "What would he advise?" or "You fucking idiot" depending on how I feel about him. I'll always love him, that much is true as he was my Brother and no-one can take that from me.

I got into therapy a year after he died as I just couldn't fathom what had happened. Had 18-24 months of solid therapy and understanding of what my relationship was with that guy (He was my hero, kept me safe in my childhood and teen years from an abusive father) and I got to move my life forwards again without him around. There are days that I just want the world to swallow me whole when it aches to miss him so, but then there are days where I genuinely remember what the man meant to me and what he inspired me to do.

I got some silly tattoo's this year that he and I wanted to get together before his passing... so I got both as he's not around to look an arse with me now. It's a great story to tell people, one of sympathy and laughter from people.

You'll get there. It takes time, it takes self-compassion, it takes being okay with however the fuck you feel. Be sad, Be angry, Be wrathful, Be happy, be whatever you feel you are right now... that's the key. Go second to second, minute to minute, hour to hour and roll with the punches whatever they maybe. You deserve the time to take your time with however you feel on this, don't feel pressured by anyone else to be cut and dry with your feelings over this. And if it's too much? Call a therapist / counsellor and work through those feelings with them, they're good people generally.

Good luck, Hang tough.

My mum died just over eight years ago, also of cancer. It's hard, it's really really hard. Her dying was the break-point in my life, the dividing line between who I was and who I am. There's a piece of me missing without her and it's a piece that I'll never regain.

But that doesn't mean that I don't continue having a life in the present. Some days I feel knocked down by grief, some days it's more of a hollow ache, and some days I don't think about it at all.

Don't think that how you feel now will be how you always feel. I don't think the stages of grief are particularly accurate, or at least they don't follow neatly one after another and there isn't an end point. But you will probably feel a range of feelings - anger, numbness, disbelief, stress, hysteria, depression. No one can say how it will be for you, just know that your feelings will probably change a lot over the next few months and that none of those feelings are bad.

I think it's really important to try and be kind to yourself. After my mum died, I thought that I didn't matter, my feelings didn't matter and that there was no point in caring for myself. I ended up in a relationship that I didn't want to be in because I thought I should just blindly accept what the world threw at me. So don't be me - try and practice self-care.

It might feel like it doesn't matter, or even that it's selfish to think about yourself right now. But think about what your mom would want. That she would want you to be happy and looked after.

I don't know if you lived with your mom or not, but imagine you're staying somewhere else and you call her up because you're sad or upset. What would she tell you to do? Watch your favourite movie, or have a relaxing bath, go for a walk, make yourself some hot cocoa? We all have our own rituals and they can feel silly or meaningless at a time like this but they're important, even if they don't cheer you up in the moment.

One last thing that I've found vital to my continued well being is remembering and talking about my mum. If you have family or friends, talk about your good memories of her with them. You could also write down your memories somewhere. That might be hard to do now, but I would recommend trying to record or talk about your memories in the coming months. Because as time goes on they will fade and that's one of the hardest things.

When I met my current partner, one of the things I really appreciated about him was that he was happy to sit and listen to me talk about my mum. He never met her, but he could probably tell you a lot about her just from listening to me talk about her! He was there for me when I was sad as well of course, but I almost appreciated it more than he was there for me when I was happy and thinking about my mum. She's a part of me, she always will be, and I don't want to keep her locked away in the past.

So I would advise you to try and make it a normal thing to talk about her with your family or friends or partner, or something you write about in a diary or post about online. My mum is a recurring presence in my family now - we're always talking about what she would have thought of this or that or how she would have reacted to something.

I'm also very happy to listen to your memories, as well as other feelings you have as you process her death. I can't lie to you and say this next stage of your life won't be hard, but it doesn't have to be the end of your mom being in your life. She's part of you and you can take her forward with you.

A lot of good advice from others here that I won't rehash.
All I can provide is what not to do - don't turn to alcohol to numb the pain. Seriously. Just stay away.