I lost my Mum in 2018. I know the exact date, and could very possibly nail down the time if asked. Nothing about her passing was unexpected - she was 89, had dementia which had not reached the “not recognising family members” state, but had made her paranoid and angry, both of which were the complete opposite of her personality. Her quality of life had gone. We were about to transfer her permanently to a care home when she died suddenly of heart failure on the very day of her transfer, without the slightest idea that she was about to be put into a home. I often say to people that she chose the right moment to pass away due to the above facts combined with her obvious negative quality of life, and her passing became almost a celebration of her life, with her funeral memorable for the laughter and tears that it provoked.
But in the next year, I did not have time to grieve. I don’t know that I ever did, except for the fact that I grieved whilst she deteriorated, knowing that I would never see my mother enjoy a memory, or go to any of the places we used to visit without fear and confusion. People say you lose your loved ones long before they die when they have dementia, and that is true, but I was able to keep her “in the moment” happiness going until a year before she died. Since she passed on, I’ve been in a limbo that can’t accept her passing, and can’t imagine living a life without her. So I’ve been unable to live that life, mostly. I have been unlucky enough to lose my husband, marriage, son and daughter (those 3 people down to differences of opinions which I’m unfortunately not privy to), my financial stability, my health (physical AND mental), my job, my self-respect, my home for 6 months due to being rehomed in a hostel for abused partners, my dog, because I couldn’t take him with me, and many, many more things which are just “stuff”, you know, but are still losses - my piano and my music, my hot tub, where I was lucky enough to be able to afford to sit watching the birds in my garden (never again), my transport (car) and my motivation to get out and do anything. I am currently trying to scrape myself up from the carpet and try to eke out a living with no motivation or financial input. I have done all the things you are going to suggest, so please don’t suggest them, whether it’s volunteering (I’m too isolated from the nearest towns and my health won’t allow me to travel), online groups (they don’t work mostly because I’m awkward and Autistic and weird) and they often cost money that I don’t have. I get on with me life by distracting myself from my situation (to such an extent that when I mentioned to a social worker that I’d distracted myself enough to stop thinking of ending my l***), she said “Oh, good”. And I said, in return, “No, not good, because if I feel like this constantly and need to distract myself simply to stop these thoughts, then there should be some other way of dealing with this issue”. It’s like giving a pae****ile a musical instrument and saying “Distract yourself by playing calming music” and thinking that you’ve solved the problem. I have gone off on a tangent so huge that I should be orbiting Mars some time soon. I wanted to share the horrific feelings I’d been dealing with after losing my Mum and everything that came after, and I wanted to know - “Does it ever stop?”