We've all been there, during the days that seem like they'll never end, and they only do because you cry yourself to sleep. These stories are not for the faint of heart, but we all need this in our lives to make us feel human.
"I was 36 weeks pregnant and they told me that my daughter no longer had a heartbeat. That was a rough time. I would say the saddest moment of all of it was after she was born when the funeral home came to take her body away and I held her one last time and then put her into a little box and they closed the lid and I knew it was the last time I would ever see her."
"My great-grandmother held me when I was little. She lives in Mexico and I have only been able to see her once every year. I always made sure to visit her with my mother. She was very old and could not walk.
Two years ago, I went to visit her but she told me she did not know who I was (she developed Alzheimer's). Before I left that day, I went to kiss her goodbye and I could see her eyes begin to get watery and she began moving her hands around my face. It broke my heart because I knew that deep down there was part of her that remembered me but she couldn't get it out with words.
I still cry when I think about it to this day. It was the last time I saw her before she died last year. She passed away a few days before I was planning on visiting, I wish my last goodbye wasn't a year before her death."
"A few years ago, I used to live with this girl. We'd deal and do massive amounts of blow every day. We didn't have enough money to eat well because we were getting high on our supply, and at one point, we didn't have electricity. There were two cats and one time, we stayed out of the house for a few days and locked the cats inside. When we came back, there was cat poop all over the place and they were both dead.
I still don't know how, but my mom knew something was wrong. We were at a friends place and I decided to check my emails. I think I hadn't spoken to my mom in a few months. Anyway, she sent me this email, and I only read the first line until I burst into tears - 'My dearly, beloved son: me and your father love you very much.' I've never had the guts to read the rest. A month after that, I came back home, having developed a major anxiety disorder. This was over 10 years ago. I have stopped doing substances since and haven't had an anxiety episode in a long while."
"It could be the day I found out the only friend I had committed suicide in 2014. I'm a hermit, so obviously I don't get out much. For quite some time, he was the only person I spent time with. Very nice guy and the news just blew my mind, perhaps in more ways than one as I have epilepsy that is triggered by stress so I had the biggest seizure in my life. To make matters worse, I'd quite stupidly left a plate on the floor next to my sofa. My face landed on that plate as I convulsed. I woke up in a pool of blood with my whole face smeared in it. Half of my upper lip was hanging off, a small chunk of my nose had been cut off entirely, I still have a scar up the rest of my nose as well as a scar below one of my eyes. Thank god it wasn't a bit higher.
I then had to spend a few hours in the hospital waiting room, followed by three hours of two nurses stitching my lip/nose together while I contemplated my friend's suicide. Eventually, I found out that he ended up in prison and hanged himself in solitary, but due to the prison guards' negligence and not watching the camera feed showing this, it was too late to save him."
"My mom was diagnosed with stomach cancer in 2012. It flared up out of nowhere. She went in March to see her doctors because she was in pain and the doctors found nothing. She went in again in April, doctors found a tumor, and she died a month later.
Now, my dad was the guy who was the rock in the whole situation, laughing about the funny things that happened, looking at the positives, hugging the people that were upset, assuring everyone everything was fine.
I could tell it was taking a toll on him and I didn't want to add to that, so I was right there with him. Telling people we were all ok, laughing at the silly hospital occurrences, just trying to be a pillar, helping to hold everyone up.
Then one day, I was at a movie with my aunt. We were watching 'Hunger Games.' Things were going fine until she got a phone call from my dad. The nurses were saying things didn't look good, so my dad called everyone to the hospital.
My mom's kidneys had failed, so she was basically comatose, with tubes and wires running from her to various machines. When she saw me though, she completely perked right up, not wanting me to worry about her.
I could feel myself starting to break down, so I went to leave, cause I didn't want anyone to see me cry. As I got to the door, though, my dad called me back in for whatever reason. So I took a deep breath, and literally sucked the tears back into my eyes, and went back in with a smile on my face.
After stopping myself from crying that day, I just don't cry anymore. I just don't think I can justify crying about anything, if I can't even cry about my mom passing away."
"My partner of two years broke up with me a few months ago. He said he felt too idle with me. He wanted the freedom and motivation of single life. He wanted the freedom to sleep with other girls and decorate his bedroom however he wanted. He wanted the motivation to work on projects that he once had as a single guy.
I was devastated.
I had no idea it was coming. I was COMPLETELY blindsided. Our relationship was near-perfect. We both thought so. I thought we were going to get married one day. He never once brought these feelings up previously. Instead, he bottled it all up until he couldn't take it anymore. I had no opportunity to address these issues. I had no opportunity to talk it over with him. I had no opportunity to CHANGE, and he wasn't accepting his responsibility to change either.
So of course, I was a little hurt. But I sucked it up and tried to be gracious - I loved him and I didn't want to make things harder by being bitter or unkind. Even after his actions, I didn't have the heart to be cruel to him. I told him I respected his decision even though I thought he was making a terrible mistake, and I wouldn't force him to stay. However, if he chose to leave, I would NOT speak to him again. I couldn't bear the pain. We couldn't be friends. Ever. I wouldn't be able to look at him ever again.
And so we broke up.
I cried more that week than I've ever cried in my entire life. I screamed from the pain when he wasn't home to hear it. My heart raced with anxiety. I couldn't believe what was happening - I thought it was some cruel prank or a nightmare. The reality wasn't real for me anymore. That's the worst thing about the breakup. I had NO CLUE this was coming. It rocked my confidence in reality. I felt like nothing was real and nobody could be trusted. I lived in a dream world.
He didn't have the means to move out for another two weeks. That first week with him in the apartment was the worst. People who've lost a loved one often talk about the feeling of a 'them'-shaped-hole in their lives. They'll turn around to make a comment about something funny they saw, only to see empty space where their loved one should be. That's how I felt when we were apart.
After two weeks of horribleness, he realized what a huge mistake he'd made. Our relationship was broken. We had a PERFECT relationship and it was lost because of a few easily fixable issues. He didn't ask to get back together, though - he knew I would struggle to trust him again. He didn't want me to live with fear. Instead, I asked him to come back. I was willing to address these issues that made him leave and give him a chance to prove his trustworthiness. I told him, 'Give it a month. If you're not happy, leave. If things go well, let's go for another month."
So that's what we're doing.
It's hard. And I'm constantly checking to make sure he's happy: 'Do you still want to be here?' 'Do you ever regret getting back together?'
I am happy that we are together and I'm glad he told me about the issues. Overall, I think we'll be much stronger together as a result of this breakup.
But it's hard. It hurts. I still cry a lot."
Papuchalka - kaelaimages/Shutterstock
"The day before my husband died, the cardiologist told me and our three daughters that the pharmaceutical that was making his heart barely functional (as opposed to not functional at all) was no longer working.
We had been waiting out in the hallway while he examined my husband, and when he came out to tell me that, I looked at the girls, asked if they were OK with turning it all off, and turned back to the doctor and told him to unplug him."
"I lost a family member to homicide. I'm not going to go into details about his murder since I really don't want to stir things up or have people trying to ID who did what. But it took my family member several weeks to die from the injuries he sustained in the initial attack and watching him quietly slip away and there being nothing I could do about it made me realize how helpless I really am in the grand scheme of things.
I spent a long time struggling with different emotions. Anger? Yeah, that was there. Grief, even a sense of shame that I wasn't there to prevent it. Was I supposed to want revenge? In the movies, the leading man always makes the day right. He takes the law into his own hands and rights the wrong. But that wasn't going to happen here.
Years later, the only thing I can feel about the entire thing is... just sadness. It was just such a waste of everything. Based upon the perpetrator's actions in court, I don't think that the gravity of what he did resonates with him. I just hope that someday, it does.
"The moment I realized that the last time I saw and talked to my dad, I had no idea it was going to be the last time. He had terminal cancer and we knew he wasn't long for this world. But he was still very with us. It was Christmas 2014 in Ohio. I was heading to Florida with my in-laws for New Years. I said goodbye to my dad and gave him a hug. Told him we'll be back sometime in January and would see him then. Thankfully for him, there was very little time between being completely here and being gone. He went from being able to walk to the bathroom himself to passing away in about three days. I got to say goodbye to him over the phone hours before he passed.
The saddest part is I hate long goodbyes so when I say goodbye in person, I tend to be to the point. I often find myself wishing rather than just saying goodbye I would have just sat down and talked a while yet. Life is short. Time is precious. Spend it on the ones you love."
"The funeral of Sgt. Ronald Paul Rice. And the reason I know his whole name is because of his funeral. I know you're thinking, of course, they say his whole name at his funeral, but remember in the military, we go by last names, and that's what sticks with you. I knew him by Sgt Rice until he passed.
At a military funeral on occasion, they have what's known as roll call.
So imagine standing there, a man you just saw a few nights ago, a man you respected, dead from a driving accident. Yes, it's sad, it's horrible.
I was standing there and I had a couple tears in my eyes, emotions were flowing and we were called to attention. Our First Sergeant called out Sgt Walker. He replied, 'Here First Sergeant!' I don't know what's going on. I had never done this before and I didn't know what to do.
First Sergeant: 'Private White!'
'Here First Sergeant!'
I was just waiting to respond.
'Here First Sergeant!'
And then the First Sergeant called 'Sgt Rice!'
And at first I wondered if it was a mistake, but I quickly understood. And I immediately broke down. You just want, so bad, to hear the same response as you'd just heard several times before.
'Sgt. Ronald Rice!'
Why wasn't he responding? I needed to hear his voice. Just stop calling his name, please. Why can't he just please respond?!
'Sgt. Ronald Paul Rice!'
The First Sergeant was now in tears. Why did he say his name again? Over and over. Please just stop. And your heart is so far gone and you know you just need it to be over.
'Sgt. Ronald Paul Rice!'
And you know he's gone. The realism is so emotionally overwhelming. No questions, no doubts; just pain.
I knew it was a tribute, that was unmistakable. But what does it mean? Why that way?
The reason is, I know a lot of the last names of the guys I was in the military with and just a few first names. But the biggest reason is that I don't remember any of the other names that day that was called at his funeral. Those that I wrote, I made up just to complete the story. But I know his name. I know Sgt Ronald Paul Rice's name.
And no matter what, I will never forget."
"April 16th, 2014. The day my dad was arrested.
There's nothing as violently, reality shatteringly real as cops showing up and tearing apart your life. Having your things gone through for evidence and having to calmly talk through a barrage of questions while the world falls apart around you is incredibly difficult. There were a lot of emotions that night- confusion, shock, fear, hurt- and most of all, disbelief. There was suddenly an entire secret side of my father that none of us had known about and in an instant; we were thrown into a far different life than the one we were living the day before.
I gave up caring about college that day because suddenly it felt like that didn't matter. I called an old friend on Skype sobbing because she was the only one I felt I could talk to about it despite having at that point a very, very strained relationship. I very nearly tried to cut off my other close friends because I didn't want them to know and I just wanted to wake up from the nightmare that my life had become overnight. I became a different person for most of the year after that and have also blocked out a lot of the memories of that year in my mind."
"My mom died the day before I turned 15. I was getting ready for church (my handbell choir was playing and my boyfriend who lived three hours away was coming to see me).
My dad yelled for me to find the phone. I ran out of the bathroom and asked what was going on. He said, 'I think Mom is dead!' and kept looking for the phone. I found it and gave it to him and went to check on my mom.
She was dead.
My dad was talking to 911 and I woke up my little sister to tell her mom was dead and we had to go outside to flag down the ambulance. She told me recently that she thought I was playing a mean trick on her.
We ran outside and I made my sister run to the far end of the dirt road where the ambulance would come so they could find us on a private road in rural Texas. I stood at our driveway to flag them in. I knew if I let my sister be where I was and not at the end of the road, she would run inside and see mom.
I felt so alone and I know she did too, and I know I did the best I could at just under 15 years old, but I still feel bad."
"Watching my dad deteriorate over three years of throat cancer and liver failure was pretty awful. Especially seeing as I was 13 and 14, so old enough to understand but not necessarily able to cope with it as well as I would have now.
The stand out memories were when he forgot who I was, or when I told him I loved him and finally, seeing him die on the sofa in the living room. The worst part of that was how my mom reacted to him dying. To be honest, there's so much to someone you love die slowly and painfully that it's hard to put it in a single thought.
I forgot what his voice sounded like before he died because they had to put tubes down his throat and treated his throat with radiotherapy, which is apparently very painful.
One of the worst things is seeing a very charismatic, tower of strength kind of man fight for three years only to lose. It felt so unfair. Especially because he'd been sick on and off since before I was born. He went to the hospital when I was one-year-old and was technically dead for a minute or so and should have died then.
He had all sorts of issues with drinking and different illnesses because of how he lived when he was younger. He hit rock bottom and went to the hospital to recover because it was that or he'd die. It seemed like he was actually okay and we were gonna be a normal family. A week or so before he was supposed to come home, they found cancer in his throat.
So yeah. That sucked. While this was going on, my aunt also got cancer. She luckily survived, but my cousin with three kids under the age of 6 suffocated in her sleep because of a medical condition she had. We had no money either because neither of my parents could work. My mom was the only one physically able and she had to look after me and my dad. 2012 was a pretty terrible year for my family. We are doing better now though!"
"The day my best friend died split my existence into before and after states.
You don't know how much you truly love someone until you live with a them-shaped hole in your life. That hole almost becomes a thing itself, a permanent fixture in your heart that continues to color how you look at the world for years and years and years. I don't think it will ever go away. I'm not sure I want it to. It's all I have left of him. I think even the sound of his laughter is fading from my memory.
I hope he would still like me."
"My father passed away ten years ago.
He passed away on the same day that I was discharged from military service, so me and the other boys from our platoon were out celebrating.
It was a perfect night otherwise. We had rented a club, hired a DJ, and some female 'dancers' for the evening, everyone was getting hammered. After all, it was going to be the last time many of us saw each other.
I woke up hungover at the barracks and got the phone call from my family that he had probably passed away the night before, alone. He was a heavy drinker and lived alone at the time - natural causes, but due to his lifestyle.
I completely broke down, right there and then. The other dudes didn't know what was happening, so I just rushed out to find a private spot.
A couple of minutes afterward, our chaplain and some officers were looking for me and wanted to discuss/inform me, but I already knew.
The week or two afterward was just a haze, I can't remember much, to be honest.
The worst part, though, was probably the fact that during my service time, Dad used to call me during all hours of the day - morning, evening, night, you name it. He'd be hammered, as usual, but just wanted to talk and shoot the bull.
Unfortunately, due to me being busy, I'd just hang up, or not take the phone. I really regret doing that, as I can't really remember what our last conversation had been about. I really wish we had a lengthy conversation before he passed, and not just me going, 'Uh-huh, yeah, no, not sure.'
But, unfortunately, that's not how life works. Can't always get closure. So now I try to take the time because you never know when it's gonna be the last time you talk with someone."
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