Losing a loved one: "Life just doesn't feel worth it anymore

"The best way to flush out those toxic feelings of self-pity is to just be genuinely grateful for all the good stuff you actually have going for you in life."

"Gratitude is honestly one of the biggest secrets to living a full life; it acts like a magnet for good things and positive events because being thankful puts you in perfect sync with the Universe." (Nancy Pelosi)

I mean, come on, there isn't a single person on this planet who doesn't have at least something good happening in their life... 😉

My husband died suddenly almost 16 months ago. He was only 33. It happened right in my arms.
We have a son, he’s almost 5 now.
I’ve been through it all—the shock, the numbness that led me to make some pretty stupid decisions, the endless grief, the isolation...
Sometimes I just sit there wondering what the hell the point even is. We had plans, goals, we were even talking about having a second kid. At weddings, they always say "what God joins together, let no man put asunder," but it feels like God did the separating himself.
But I’ve got this kid, so I have to keep it together for him. Even if there are days when I just want to lie down and give up on everything. Like the other day, my son tells me his friends at preschool all have dads, and he doesn't. He says he's unhappy and wants a different dad. My heart just shatters instantly when he says stuff like that.

rowdyviper72 said:My husband died suddenly almost 16 months ago. He was only 33. It happened right in my arms.
We have a son, he’s almost 5 now.
I’ve been through it all—the shock, the numbness that led me to make some pretty stupid decisions, the endless grief, the isolation...
Sometimes I just sit there wondering what the hell the point even is. We had plans, goals, we were even talking about having a second kid. At weddings, they always say "what God joins together, let no man put asunder," but it feels like God did the separating himself.
But I’ve got this kid, so I have to keep it together for him. Even if there are days when I just want to lie down and give up on everything. Like the other day, my son tells me his friends at preschool all have dads, and he doesn't. He says he's unhappy and wants a different dad. My heart just shatters instantly when he says stuff like that.

Yeah, look, he's still just a little guy, but listen, you've still got things to be grateful for... you have yourself and you have your son, who needs you to show him the ropes in this life. 🙂

My husband passed away last year, and while I am so incredibly thankful for the time we shared together, and for my daughter who misses her dad just as much as I do, what I'm most grateful for is the sheer beauty of living... a beauty I'm trying my hardest to find on my own in every single day that lies ahead of me...😉

rowdyviper72 said:My husband died suddenly almost 16 months ago. He was only 33. It happened right in my arms.
We have a son, he’s almost 5 now.
I’ve been through it all—the shock, the numbness that led me to make some pretty stupid decisions, the endless grief, the isolation...
Sometimes I just sit there wondering what the hell the point even is. We had plans, goals, we were even talking about having a second kid. At weddings, they always say "what God joins together, let no man put asunder," but it feels like God did the separating himself.
But I’ve got this kid, so I have to keep it together for him. Even if there are days when I just want to lie down and give up on everything. Like the other day, my son tells me his friends at preschool all have dads, and he doesn't. He says he's unhappy and wants a different dad. My heart just shatters instantly when he says stuff like that.

It’s been four months since I lost the absolute love of my life. If soulmates are actually a real thing, then that was us—we didn't even need to speak, just one look and we were totally on the same page... and yeah, I spend every waking moment asking "why," searching for answers that aren't coming. The only thing I know for sure is that losing him hurts just as much as living without him does. What keeps me going is all the unfinished business left behind, trying to do things exactly the way he would have done them, the way he wanted... and making sure I explain to my son that he really does have a dad—the best dad ever, who's watching over him from heaven right now. He's got his own guardian angel, which is more than most kids can say...

I’m 33 years old and my husband passed away just 11 days ago... I have two little ones, ages 3 and 5, and I honestly can't see a way forward. It just isn't fair. 🙂

rustymaker5 said:"The best way to flush out those toxic feelings of self-pity is to just be genuinely grateful for all the good stuff you actually have going for you in life."

"Gratitude is honestly one of the biggest secrets to living a full life; it acts like a magnet for good things and positive events because being thankful puts you in perfect sync with the Universe." (Nancy Pelosi)

I mean, come on, there isn't a single person on this planet who doesn't have at least something good happening in their life... 😉

So, what we have here is some sort of technique, followed by an explanation of gratitude, and then a little extra flavor on top. But honestly, this whole method feels like a band-aid fix to me. It’s like tossing an ice cube onto a red-hot stove. In your next post, you mention it's supposed to be a daily ice cube. Well, I don't know about you, but I think it's a pretty big stretch to assume that eventually, through some kind of cosmic physics, the stove is actually gonna cool down.

Why not just go out and find a permanent solution instead? Or do you feel like it doesn't really count unless you spend some time suffering first?

brightviper50 said:I’m 33 years old and my husband passed away just 11 days ago... I have two little ones, ages 3 and 5, and I honestly can't see a way forward. It just isn't fair. 🙂

I’m lost—what does fairness even have to do with any of this? Care to enlighten me?

brightviper50 said:I’m 33 years old and my husband passed away just 11 days ago... I have two little ones, ages 3 and 5, and I honestly can't see a way forward. It just isn't fair. 🙂

Man, what even is "fair" anyway?🤷
Look, you've gotta try to look at this from a different angle—your husband fulfilled his purpose here in this Universe and it was just his time to go... you're still standing here because you've got so much more left to do in this life... honestly, neither you nor him has it easy right now... we didn't really have a choice in any of this on this earth... why is everything written the way it is? I guess we can all just hope that one day, eventually, we'll finally get it... hang in there.

brightviper50 said:I’m 33 years old and my husband passed away just 11 days ago... I have two little ones, ages 3 and 5, and I honestly can't see a way forward. It just isn't fair. 🙂

What do you mean you don't see a way forward? Your kids are your light. They are your purpose. They are everything! They depend on you, and they will for a long time to come.
They are the most magnificent thing you and your incredible partner ever created. You have to stay healthy and strong for them!
Pray to God to give you strength every single day and find things to be grateful for.

Right now, nothing seems to make sense, but it all will eventually.

Christmas is coming. Decorate the tree for your kids, light a candle, and find joy for their sake!

Wishing you nothing but the best.🙂

It’s been 22 days since he left, and honestly, it isn't easy... I have two kids counting on me to keep it together, and while I’m doing my best to be strong for them, I feel like I'm starting to fray at the edges. Everything just feels numb, and there's this strange weight inside me... I guess time will eventually do its thing, one day at a time.

brightviper50 said:It’s been 22 days since he left, and honestly, it isn't easy... I have two kids counting on me to keep it together, and while I’m doing my best to be strong for them, I feel like I'm starting to fray at the edges. Everything just feels numb, and there's this strange weight inside me... I guess time will eventually do its thing, one day at a time.

That’s exactly it, just taking it one day at a time.
Maybe it helps to hold onto the thought that he’s okay now, that he’s back where he belongs, in a better place, and that all you can really do for yourself, right here and now, is focus on looking after yourself and the kids.
Try to stay busy with work and spending quality time with the little ones, and just be honest with them about their dad... don't try to sugarcoat things with useless stories, because no matter how small they are, kids remember and they don't forget. Don't pull away from people, but don't sit there expecting everyone to intuitively know what you need either. If you feel like you need support, you should probably be the one to reach out first, because most people honestly have no clue how to act or what to say in a situation like this, so they tend to keep their distance, which just leaves you feeling isolated and abandoned to your own grief...
And please, don't try to bottle everything up; if you need to cry, just let it out, and don't hide it from the children... cry with them, because it shows them that pain and sadness are natural, and that crying is perfectly okay. It might actually end up being a way to strengthen your bond as a family.
And as cliché as it sounds, it's true that nobody is given a burden heavier than they can carry. I'm wishing you nothing but the best. 🙂

brightviper50 said:I’m 33 years old and my husband passed away just 11 days ago... I have two little ones, ages 3 and 5, and I honestly can't see a way forward. It just isn't fair. 🙂

It’s hard to wrap your head around the Universe, and honestly, it's tough not to feel angry at God or at faith itself. Love is built into our very DNA—I know what pain feels like, and I know those heavy emotions. There’s always this sense that there is something unfinished above us, a collection of unspoken words and half-finished thoughts hanging in the air. Sometimes, people close to us—whether they’re young, older, dear friends, partners, or parents—leave because their mission here is simply complete. Losing someone is always a brutal hit, but if you look back, all you can really hold onto are the beautiful memories.
The truth is, life changes us. I’ve lost a lot myself over the years, but through that, I’ve grown spiritually stronger; it’s hardened my character and deepened my belief that everything happens for a reason, even if we don't have the answers to why. We don't find those answers in a textbook; we find them within ourselves and in people who radiate warmth—people who lead with kindness, a gentle word, or just the ability to sit with you in your grief and offer peace without judgment.
We evolve and we grow, rising up to live differently than we did before, but that’s just the nature of life on this earth. I don’t go to church, but everyone has their own way of finding answers, even if some questions remain totally unsolvable. We eventually realize that everything serves a purpose; we arrive with a mission, we fulfill it, and then we slowly drift away from this world, leaving it behind to reshape itself for those of us still standing. We just have to find the grit to keep going. That strength has to be there for the people counting on us—our kids, our sick or lonely parents, or anyone else who needs us to be their anchor. When you give of yourself, you get something back. You should never expect anything in return, but there’s nothing quite like receiving a small gift that costs nothing, like a simple smile or a moment of peace from someone else.
Giving a kid a little piece of chocolate and getting that pure, innocent smile in return? That’s worth more than anything in the world. Kids are small, and they grow right alongside us; we guide them toward being honest and kind because their souls are so untainted. For parents who find themselves navigating life without a spouse, you realize that your children are your entire world—your true wealth—and everything else will fall into place eventually. That’s why we’re here: to help one another, to understand, and to show up when someone reaches out.

Justin Garcia7 said:In short, how can I offer spiritual comfort to someone grieving a deep loss? They were incredibly close to this person—talking every single day—and now that they're gone, it feels like life has lost all meaning. It’s hard to watch them suffer like this; they've spiraled into such a dark place and have completely neglected themselves. Even though some time has passed since the death, things aren't getting better. Spiritual teachers often say that being too attached isn't healthy, but how do you explain that to someone who doesn't see the world through a spiritual lens? It feels like I'm talking to a brick wall. They've shut everyone else out and only find any semblance of joy in their remaining family members, which makes me terrified of what would happen if they lost someone else. I try to bring up spiritual perspectives to help, but all they say is that the memories are killing them and that there's no point in looking forward because you won't be conscious to experience anything anyway.
I just need the right words to help them start finding happiness in the world again, rather than just clinging to the few people they have left.

For me, this book was a lifeline: http://www.nakladaslap.com/knjige.as...8a7b363578a868 which explores the entire concept of grief in general, including the passing of those closest to us.

I firmly believe that time is the most critical factor here. Initially, nobody accounts for that strange period where you haven't even fully processed the reality of the loss yet. It took me three full months before my brain actually registered what had happened, because you essentially operate on some sort of autopilot—going to work, paying the bills, eating, sleeping, maintaining a social life, just functioning...
And once that realization hits... it’s just pure depression, a complete lack of any willpower whatsoever. A total mental fog, zero emotional capacity, and a level of courage that feels like "Hit me up life, things can't possibly get any worse than this."
I like to think of myself as a spiritual person, so I spent that time trying to find some sort of higher purpose or meaning, but it was an uphill battle because most of my being back then was consumed by sadness, a sadness that felt massive and infinite...

A person simply needs time to process everything, to purge all that sorrow from their system, to just weep... in my case, nearly five years have passed, and it wasn't until about two years in that I finally started feeling like myself again... though I still have days where the realization that I lost the person I loved most hits me all over again, and it all comes rushing back—the grief, the misery, the sheer pointlessness of it all. Some days are easier to manage than others.

Perhaps something that might actually spark a change is bringing in a complete stranger to talk to them... sometimes, having a perspective from someone entirely outside of your own circle can be the thing that helps...

I read somewhere once that being unattached is the secret to true resilience, and honestly, I think there's a lot of truth to that.
The God who gave you life is the only one with the authority to take it away. If there's any small comfort to be found, it's this... they are gone, but they left this world by the will of the One who loved them even more than I ever could.