#loss Tumblr posts

  • Contrast

    Looking back

    At a time where my mind was rotten

    From a place where its perfectly healthy

    Is like watching 6 foot waves

    Crash onto a white sandy beach.

    Its a contrast.

    View Full
  • 2/22/2021

    Three and a half days without you. Without food. Hardly any water. I’m not hungry. Not even really thirsty. Hardly able to breathe. Yesterday was nearly impossible to get through with all the people. And ended badly all I want is hard liquor and death.

    You should be here with me now. How stupid could I be too leave you like that no matter how short of time I intended. I can’t stop thinking of your lifeless body laying with me. Seeing you get wrapped in towels. They way you looked before I found you. They way you looked when I got back home. Hiding in a place you never had. I knew immediately. You were hardly alive. You meowed a few times when I picked you up, when I was holding you waiting for mom to get the keys to the car. Now you’re in the ground. I don’t get to bury my face in your chest. I don’t get to go to sleep and wake up with you. I can’t hear you meowing at me . Everywhere I turn is a memory. Come back. I’m begging

    #personal#ashly #queen Ashley Nicole Smashington #i cant breathe #regret#loss#cat#familiar
    View Full
  • i grasp onto your arms

    my breath trickled out of me

    through my eyes and mouth

    and dripped down to touch you, to share

    you faded through my hands

    as if you were already gone

    my nerves were shot

    my hands went cold

    and we sobbed

    and all the water disappeared

    and i could not let you go

    i could not see the sun set on loss

    i couldn’t bare it

    you smiled

    and vanished

    all at once here and gone forever

    and then darkness consumed the rest of us

    View Full
  • New research finds exercise may help slow memory loss for people living with Alzheimer’s dementia

    New research finds exercise may help slow memory loss for people living with Alzheimer’s dementia

    Credit: Unsplash/CC0 Public Domain

    Promising new research shows aerobic exercise may help slow memory loss for older adults living with Alzheimer’s dementia.

    ASU Edson College of Nursing and Health Innovation Professor Fang Yu led a pilot randomized control trial that included 96 older adults living with mild to moderate Alzheimer’s dementia.
    Participants were randomized to either a cycling…


    View On WordPress

    View Full
  • german below..

    I am back to less than 58kg / 128lb.
    Unfortunately I had to spoil this success with too much food during the day.
    Tomorrow I better not go on the scale.
    Maybe not again until Sunday if tomorrow goes well.

    But I will continue to work. The steady drop wears away the stone.
    Keep going, don’t binge, don’t think about today’s loss of the day any longer.

    Ich habe wieder weniger als 58kg / 128lb. 
    Leider musste ich mir diesen Erfolg im Laufe des Tages mit zu viel Essen verderben. 
    Morgen sollte ich besser nicht auf die Waage. 
    Vielleicht erst wieder Sonntag, wenn der morgige Tag gut läuft. 

    Aber es wird weiter gearbeitet. Der stetige Tropfen höhlt den Stein. 
    Weitermachen, nicht groß ins Binge geraten, keine Fressanfälle bekommen, über den heutigen Verlust des Tages nicht länger nachdenken. 

    View Full
  • Update: We’re here, finally!

    Time to give out some autographs.

    #cool science party #doctor who #doctor who rp #loss#dw#the rani
    View Full
  • I am utterly bored. Loss, want to finally go to that Science Summit we never went to because of knife monopoly?


    View Full
  • everything feels different. but i still am drinkng my morning caffeine. i still took my meds, just as usual. i had my routine cigs. i greeted people good morning, they smiled, we talk about other stuff. but it’s not the same, even though it is. she’s gone and the world is different now but for most people t’s exactly the same. it’s weird and i don’t know how to sit wth that. 

    View Full
  • “Music is forever; music should grow and mature with you, following you right on up until you die.”

    -Paul Simon-

    Skylines are contemplative, I’ve found; and I have some time before we put you to rest today to do what I’ve learned is best at these times when living feels like an open wound but still, death does not take you entirely.

    Memories are a funny thing; you can carry them around inside you for years with no conscious regard for what they mean. And then something happens and they all shake loose, and I’m tearful as I write this because who knew that my strong, immortal uncles would start to die and despite what Dad says – and he is what he always is: absolutely true to his word – he, too, won’t be able to go on forever.

    And there it is – forever.

    Because the love doesn’t evaporate; you’re just not here anymore.

    So I remember, and these must be some of my earliest memories, stirred no doubt by a clear sky and a bright sun. The two of you lived in the caravan then. I could only have been, what? Four? Five? The air filled with Simon and Garfunkel, off of the back of the seventies; a lot of Charley Pride, it always felt peaceful, simple. And the permutations evolved over the years, but we’ve always had our constants.

    Music, kitty-cats, my blonde hair, your deadpan one-liners, fierce loyalty, an overspill of love, those structures you built on the London skyline.

    If Dad has taught me what it means to be faithful, the substance of a man and a man of substance, you’ve taught me that he is not an isolated phenomenon; and hence, I will not settle for any less. What? It’s not all because I’m headstrong and independent. Although I’ve always been grateful that you were also supportive of that.

    We will miss you. And God, I think about these long, long marriages that have been in my life since birth – I still believe; it just feels like I’m wearing my heart on the outside, the flesh of me raw and exposed.

    But just as Dad is philosophical about these things, I know that you would be a pragmatist first and from there, the drinks would flow.

    So thank you – for the music, the memories, the warm humour, the very special Irish blend that was you. We’ll raise a glass; I’ll probably dance a few laps around the kitchen floor – fishnets on tile are great for that – and we’ll remember who you’ve been to us. Remember like forever.

    #writing#love#loss #life and death #in memoriam#meaning#existential musings #all eternal things #love in a time of... #letters from the wasteland #laid bare #inside of me #i grieve #somewhere in my heart #i will remember you #never truly gone #step back in time #how forever feels #elisa english#elisaenglish
    View Full
  • 15 Years of Hogan McSmalls

    15 Years of Hogan McSmalls

    We joked that Hogan McSmalls was a baby replacement. My sister had just had a baby. So had a couple of friends. But, he wasn’t, not really. He was much more than that.

    In 2006, I had a chronic illness that kept me home all the time. Exhausted, in pain, and alone too much, I floated through my days, feeling like a waste of space. A specialist put me on an experimental treatment that supposedly…


    View On WordPress

    View Full
  • Thinking About My Dad

    It’s nearly been 10 years now since my Dad died when I was 19. I miss him a lot more than I admit and I always will but I cope with it the grief and loss much better now than I did in the first months and years that passed by. I think that’s the thing with grief, I’m not sure it actually gets easier but you get used to it so it doesn’t consume you anymore or feel as overwhelming.

    I wonder if my Dad would be proud of me now. I wonder what he’d say to me about the things I’ve achieved in 10 years. I wonder if he’d be more understanding and accepting of my Mental Health struggles now. He never saw me pass my driving test, achieve my degree, become a teacher, move out, get married or or become a mum. Having said that I’m grateful for the years he was part of my life and the things he was here for. I had 13 years more with him than I did my Mum so I will forever be grateful for that!

    My Dad’s death was very sudden so that added a different factor to the grief that followed. The people I’d lost before had been ill so I hadn’t really experienced the shock that followed this sudden death. Looking back nearly 10 years ago it’s difficult to fully remember how I felt but it was a strange experience. In the first days and weeks that followed I didn’t cry that much, in fact the people around me cried a lot more. My tears came a bit later , in the months and years that followed. I rarely cry now because I don’t need to but there are times I do and I still feel the loss and pain when I think about him.

    I don’t think grief ever leaves you, it’s always there but you find ways to cope with it or learn to move on with life and it helps but it’s always there if you think about it. I’ll never forget my Dad, I was lucky to have him in my life for 19 years because that’s longer than some do.

    Just some thoughts this morning on my Dad because I was thinking about him.

    #Morning Thoughts#Thoughts#Writing #Writing It Down #Grief#Loss#Bereavement#My Dad #Missing My Dad #10 Years#Losing Parents #Grief Is Always There #Coping Without You #We Find Ways To Cope #Mental Health#Feelings#Emotions #My Experience Of Grief #How It’s Felt For Me
    View Full
  • Writing prompt

    Everything was burning, fires spitting ash and soot into the sky.

    “WHY!?” They screamed, bloody nails digging through the blackened rubble. Tears streaking clean lines down their face as they kept digging, frantic wails ripping from their throat.

    “NO NO NO! P-please.” They screamed to everyone and no-one, shaking and spent, beyond exhausted.


    After a while they stopped, shoulders slumped and sobbing hysterically, trying to wipe tears off their face but only succeeding into smearing the spot into a thick black paste.

    They pulled back their hands, dropping them in their knees and letting the world go blurry, as the roaring fires died to a numbing silence.

    Everything was gone, and it was all their fault.

    View Full
  • What do you do when the person you want to escape from is yourself? When the person you hate the most is yourself?

    I think about love and loss, of a lifetime of never being enough. I fall apart over and over and over, and wonder how much grief one person can endure? Maybe there are just people who are meant to never get what they want, no matter how close it might have felt.

    Maybe I’m not meant to be any one’s great love, or closest friend, or most important. Maybe there are just placeholder people, and I am meant to be one of them.

    Every thought I have, every move I make feels wrong. I don’t know how to be okay, or even what okay felt like.

    I run until my lungs burn and my legs throb, and I still can’t outpace my demons.

    I carry myself like a zombie though the days, going through the motions just enough to get by.

    I wait for sleep that doesn’t come, and peace that seems elusive.

    I keep taking breaths, even when it feels like I am going to break with each one.

    I watch the world keep moving around me and I am just paralyzed.

    I am broken, I feel shattered and worthless and empty. And all I can to is watch everyone keep living, while all I can do is stand still in the shadows of what used to be.

    View Full
  • How am I supposed to love you, when I can’t even love myself.

    View Full
  • Depression is a hell of a thing.

    In a weird way, honestly, I wish I didn’t have my moments of feeling good. I almost wish I just constantly felt like I wanted it all to stop. Because when something happens that makes me crash again, it’s that much harder.

    Getting time off work was necessary in a way I can’t explain. Having time to go for a walk in the sun, have moments of feeling like a human being again. All of it is surreal. I wait for the rug to be yanked from under me though. I’m not used to being happy or content. They don’t last. Nothing does.

    My dreams when I do sleep are riddled with anxiety. Of my job trying to fire me. Alex finding me and sending me horrid letters. I dream of being handed a bouquet of black roses that wilt as I hold them and I think even my mourning is death. I question the reality of my world and wonder what choices I have. What choices any of us have.

    I wonder if getting that Starbucks cup would mean a single solitary thing to me. I think about it sitting on a shelf with a line of them empty as me representing my inability to focus on anything else. My obsession with being obsessed and not letting go. I think to myself if I could get the Animal Crossing Sanrio amiibos then I’d be happy. For a split second. I wonder if I had the money for the Blackmilk release if buying that onesie id wear twice, let’s be honest, would make things any better.

    I know it wouldn’t. I know I’d have a fleeting moment of peace before it came falling apart again and truly that’s the worst. Of knowing it won’t last. That it goes away. That I want to be happy for five minutes but then I call her voicemail and leave a message. I find out she corresponded with Carl Sandburg and Sophie Freud. That she has letters in the desk of a former University Dean and I think “She lived a Life”.

    In turn what have I done? I survived domestic violence and moved across the country. I dreamed of love and I fell in love hard. Chris was so much to me and I remember our moments. How I never felt anger at him. How I thought he was healing and he was good. He is good. My real and longest relationship where saying “I love you” took strength. I lived a half-life in a world of smoke and fog with nothing to show except some tattoos and shitty boyfriends. Mistakes and moves.

    I think back and wonder if my depression comes from not living. I can’t read the books I long to pick up. I want to. I see them and know they’ll feel good but the effort is powerful and I don’t have that. I have enough to watch a game get streamed and be resentful I don’t have a PS5 or that I don’t have stuff. Things. I want to be content but I feel like all I know is pain.

    I miss smiling and laughing so hard it hurts. I think it would cost less to drown myself in alcohol and weed and think of nothing except sleep. I wonder how it would feel to vanish. To disappear and become something else. Somewhere else.

    I wish I could write again. Put words on paper or a screen that I don’t immediately remove. I wish I could produce something and love it. Or accept it. I wish I could write at all.

    My heart and body hurt. My brain is fuzzy and it feels so off. I can’t remember days or hours. Minutes or seconds. It’s 7pm until it’s 1am and I’m wondering what happened with those six minutes I lost. I feel powerfully adrift and I’m watching earth from my space station manned only by myself. I’ll die out here alone, I suspect. We all do.

    They tell me to hold on to moments of happiness because that’s what life is. But I know it’s more. I know it’s hours of being more than OK, or content. I know it’s not being angry because that blue Subaru can’t fucking park. I know it’s more than this feeling of hate and sadness and feeling cold as the sun hits my skin. I know it’s opening your eyes and looking outside. Of sleeping, for just once, through the night. Of not having to sacrifice my dreams I do love for the ones I don’t.

    I know life must be something else. It must be better. I know this hole eats at me and I think one month off work can’t fix this so what can. I’ve been asking myself that a lot and losing my mother brings the question so clearly to mind. I think I may never know the answer. Not ever. I think the pain will pierce my skin as I ask “What’s next on the agenda?” Because it must get worse. It certainly doesn’t get better.

    View Full
  • We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.

    — Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire (The Mortal Instruments, #6).

    View Full
  • Funny how I slowly lose the people I want for my life in my attempt to keep them all. Maybe it’s true, you can’t have everything. Maybe it’s true, you gotta lose some to keep some. Or maybe human beings are just selfish and egoistic.

    View Full

    The last workout in the program is circuit of 4 exercises. 12 sets of 10 reps per exercise. This one killed me. Took me about 28 minutes to finish so I edited it …


    View On WordPress

    View Full
  • Things change and people change too, I’m still wrapped up in all the what if’s, is that just hope playing it’s little tricks…

    #hope#writing#words #hope fucks you up #I hate it here #yearning#love#loss
    View Full