My darling husband passed away 15 days ago. We knew each other for 8 years. He was very vibrant and full of life, had a good job house and car. Internally though he was suffering from chronic depression and was addicted to alcohol for many years even before i knew him. It got worse when he lost his mother 3 years ago. He would constantly talk about killing himself, praying that God would take his life. It was like seeing him die everyday. I prayed that he comes out of his depression, went to the psychiatrist to get meds for him, put him in rehab, gave him unconditional love but nothing seemed to work. He stopped eating and would just drink and watch the tv the whole day and night. Any attempt at communication was met with silence. He did not want to talk about anything. He gradually became so weak that he was bed ridden. I would coax him to eat or at least have some soup or juice but it was an uphill task. 3 years and 10 hospitalizations later he is no more. His body and organs were so weak that it could not process any medicines. I just wish that he would be alive today maybe he would have made an effort at living. People tell me that he is free from his worries and depression. I hope he is finally at peace. People say that your love was one sided but i know that he loved me and needed me. He would feel more depressed when i was not around him. I would call him my sunflower. In the end i feel he could not help himself. I miss my darling a lot.

How long were your parents married & did they have a good relationship? Clearing out his stuff will be hard. I did it a few days after my dad passed because his room was needed. I remember cleaning out his closet and thinking this was what his life came to - his stuff in black bags. My parents while married for 40 years, were more just living together. Something came out of my mothers mouth less than 12 hours after he passed - I swear my mouth hit the ground. I saw her 2 weeks ago for the 1st time in 9 months - she said something really cold that I had to blow off - something to the effect of - life goes on (she was telling me how all his stuff got thrown out), you have to get over it - I don't know why you're so upset - well I guess I was with my parents too - I just didn't love him like that - I felt sorry for him I'm glad you found comfort. When the plants started waking up in the spring, it also brought me peace. I also bought a rose in my dads memory called Unconditional Love. For me, it helped to plant it and see it grow & bloom. Everyone is different. Not everyone deals with death the same way. You know what is right for you, but it may not be right for your mother. Take something to remember him by. Put it in a shadow box frame so that it doesn't get ruined. If you have a scanner - grab some photos from mom, scan then print them; then get yourself a frame that has a few photo spaces. I used one like in the link below, it has 9 compartments for photos and trinkets, but mine was from Walmart. Unfortunatly they don't have it listed online. Here is a link that might be useful: frame

I need some serious advice, and all of you seem like very good people with sincere approaches to coping. My brother took his life eleven months ago today. I so dread the one-year anniversary. This was not his first attempt, but was the only time he tried that he really meant it. The other times clearly were a call for attention. This time, there was absolutely no stopping him. I'll spare you details and get onto my two issues. First, I have been paralyzed from having any relationship with my sister-in-law since my brother's passing. I know I need to reach out to her, but I simply cannot. About three weeks after Chad's passing, my sister-in-law called to ask me a favor, which I quickly performed. During the conversation, though, she digressed into telling me about the last conversation that my brother had with Mom and Dad. It was very clear that my sister-in-law blames my Mom and Dad and my brother's upbringing. This caused two problems for me. First, it really made me question who I am ... if Chad and I shared the same upbringing and Chad took his life, what does that mean for me? Second, we all have to have our own "reality" about why Chad passed in the way that he did, but my reality cannot be to blame my Mom and Dad in any way whatsoever. In fact, my relationship with my parents is stronger than it ever was before. The day that my sister-in-law and I had this conversation was absolutely the most difficult day of coping that I have had. I was literally in the car on the way to work when she called, and I had to pull over, get out of the car, pace and cry while we talked and for a long while thereafter. I could not make it into work for two days following. Hence, I have not been able to make myself call her in months. At forced family gatherings, there is a tension but we're cordial. But, we have no relationship. I hate that, but I'm so apprehensive too. My dad is begging me to call my sister-in-law, and I cannot tell him that I can't call her b/c she blames him and Mom. I've written eight letters to her in an attempt to explain why it is so difficult for me, but I haven't had the courage to mail any of them yet. My second issue is that a couple of months before Chad's passing, he announced to the family how proud he was of himself for quitting smoking. He said it was all because of the anti-smoking pill Chantix. Now, I've learned that the FDA has linked Chantix to suicide. I've carried a ton of anger since Chad's passing and now I'm mad at hell at the pharma company. To make Chad a class rep in a class action against the pharma company may give me an outlet for my anger and grief, but I don't want to be the selfish little sister that drudges the rest of the family through even more pain. Of course, my sister-in-law would have to be on board and that would require my talking it over with her. I'm an attorney by the way.

Thank you both so much for your kind words and advise. Mental illness is so incredibly hard for a parent to bear. Since my son was 14 years old, he has struggled with dishonesty and was caught stealing several hundred dollars from my ex-brother-in-law. Then, during a period of time, he was faking "grand mal seizures" in front of me. Since he was previously diagnosed with epilepsy when he was 9 years old, there was no reason for me to doubt that these seizures were not real. I was constantly calling "911" until I finally brought him to UCLA to be put on telemetry (they hook him up to something that, not only can sense his brain waves, but it records the seizures). At one point, the neurologist realized that the seizures were not real. So, he did a "test" on my son to make sure. To my absolute devastation, he was faking the seizures and that's when my true struggles began. The doctor felt that - due to my son's medical issues, as well as being raise without a father, etc. - that it might be helpful for him to be admitted into the psychiatric ward at the hospital. He ended up spending close to 3 months in the hospital during which time - they weaned him off of his epilepsy medication (thinking that he really wasn't epileptic). Even when Michael said that he was having seizures, he was no longer believed by the doctors. Once he was discharged (and continuing to have seizures, this time losing bladder control during them), I had to take him to another hospital for testing (UCLA no longer wanted to be involved with the testing). This time, it was confirmed that he not only had epilepsy, but it was a form of epilepsy that he would never outgrow. Since this time, he just continued to spiral downhill and out of control. And, sadly, I spiraled along with him. Being my only child and, being that I raised him solely by myself, I had no idea what was wrong with him. For so many years, I felt that it was "only" because of me and the way that I raised him. I was overprotective, never wanted him to "fall". I never understood "why" he lied, only that he lied about everything in his life. There seemed to be nothing that he didn't lie about. It wasn't until the last 2 years (and all the "911" phone calls from me to the police, and all the trips to the hospital), that things finally started to make sense to me. But, even though I now know that he has a mental illness, it didn't stop the heartache that I feel in my life. It's almost like I am watching him die (always wondering when he may "actually" kill himself) on on a daily basis. But, there is never any closure. I feel that - in order for ME to LIVE and experience happiness again - that HE first has to be healthy. But, then I have to realize that this day may never come for him. After so many years of me being a devoted mom to Michael, I finally met a wonderful man in my life; however, the last 2 years have been so emotionally stressful and draining on both of us. We are in constant anxiety. I spend so much of my time being so worried about my son that I forget to remember all the people that are in my life who WANT me to be part of THEIR lives again. For so long, I feel only like I am a shell of a person. I have finally (last week after, yet one more episode from my son threatening suicide, then showing me the respect that I deserve) - decided that I need to back away. I finally said (in a text message that we were having) - that I would no longer allow him treating me like yesterday's trash. No matter how much I tried to be on his side giving him support, he treated me like I meant nothing. Deep inside, I know that he loves me. When he seems "more normal", he can be kind and caring, but these days are few and far between lately. But, I still need to focus on the reality of things. I cannot communicate with him if it means that "I" am the one that will suffer. And, as "I" suffer, my boyfriend (as well as the people who care most about me) suffers, as well. I just need to keep this feeling of "strength" up. I need to live MY life, even though my son seems to not want to live "his". If for no-one else, I need to live it for my absolutely wonderful grandsons. They are the light of my life. They give me purpose in my life and make me "want" to smile. I will not allow them to see the sadness that I feel inside. They are a huge reason for me living. And, yes, I "need" to learn how to put myself first. I just need to tell my "heart and mind" this..... Thank you again.