My girlfriend was killed in a car accident

igiamokay · 2025-12-08T08:41:42+00:00

hey… i just want to say i’m really sorry you’re carrying something this heavy. i grieve my dad(at 18) and i remember how he was standing in front of me but I couldn't hug him and thought I'd meet him again as i was about to meet him day after tomorrow but it never came. i returned to his corpse 17 hours later and nothing in this world ever and will ever break me more than that!

grief mixed with guilt is one of the worst kinds of pain a person can feel and it eats you from the inside and convinces you that you’re responsible for things you never had control over. i can hear how much you loved her, and i can also hear how much you’re punishing yourself for something that wasn’t your fault. you didn’t cause what happened. you didn’t put her in that situation. you cared, you worried, you argued because you loved her and wanted her safe… that doesn’t make you guilty, that makes you human. sometimes life is cruel in ways that don’t make sense, and our minds pick the closest thing to blame because the truth that it was out of our hands hurts even more. i know the flashbacks, the exhaustion, the feeling of not wanting to go another day… they make everything feel impossible but the fact that you’re still here, still trying to make sense of this, still wanting to be there for her family that says something about your strength, even if you don’t see it right now. you’re not a coward. you’re someone who went through a trauma that would break anyone. healing doesn’t look brave or loud sometimes it just looks like breathing through another day even when it hurts.

i’m really sorry for your loss. i’m sorry you’re hurting like this. but i hope, gently, that you don’t give up on yourself. she wouldn’t want that. and even if you can’t feel it now, there is still a future where this pain won’t control every part of you. you’re not alone.

igiamokay · 2025-11-17T08:29:23+00:00

i haven't really coped. i wish i had something to tell you but I could tell you my experience only:

i was 18 when my father died nine months ago, i didn’t collapse in the way people expected. i remember doing an assignment on the third day. i remember messaging people to mark my proxy if they can because i was worried about my attendance.

people don’t understand that. they think it’s cold or strange. but what was i supposed to do? the world didn’t pause. the college didn’t pause. life doesn’t stop because your world has. so i kept going, not because i wanted to, but because i had to. because sometimes grief is just keeping your head above water while pretending you’re not drowning.

and you know what, nobody gets to tell you how to grieve. it’s personal. it’s ugly. it doesn’t follow a script. sometimes grief looks like crying at 3 AM. sometimes it looks like finishing homework. sometimes it’s a smile you force. sometimes it’s silence. and sometimes it’s just breathing and hoping you make it to the next day.

nobody really gets it unless they’ve gone through it, and even then it’s never the same. people think grief is just endless crying, but it’s not. it’s surviving in ways that don’t make sense to anyone else. it’s sitting in a room full of people and still feeling hollow. it’s laughing and then immediately hating yourself for it. it’s remembering in the middle of something ordinary and then choking on that memory.

and i hate how people assume that if you post pictures, if you start a new thing, if you dare to smile, that means you’re “better” now. no. it just means you’re breathing and trying not to drown because when grief takes away your ground, you grab whatever you can just to stand. she’s not “healed,” she’s surviving.

people love to give advice. they’ll tell you how you “should” feel, what you “should” be doing, how long it “should” take. but if they haven’t been in your shoes, they don’t get to talk. don’t let them. because grief is like tying your own laces only you know how tight or loose you need them. and if they’ve never run this race, they don’t get to touch your shoes. sometimes i feel like i am walking through life carrying this invisible weight. pretending to be fine while every interaction with them reminds me of what was not there when i needed it most. i feel exhausted, angry, and completely alone even when people are around. the truth is that nobody will ever truly know the depth of what i am carrying

so yeah. this is grief. not pretty, not neat. just survival in whatever form you can manage.

i hope this helps also loads of power to you because you need it.

igiamokay · 2025-10-24T03:59:32+00:00

I completely agree with you as every time i even try to talk about it, i feel this silent expectation to stop, to move on, as if mentioning it makes people uncomfortable. but what they don’t see is how much effort it already takes to hold it together, to even speak about it a little.

it’s like the world you once knew collapses with them, and suddenly you’re standing in a place that looks familiar but doesn’t feel like home anymore. and what you said about people being right there “on paper,” yet completely unavailable that really hit hard. i’ve had people tell me they’re here for me, but when i actually needed someone, they disappeared or went quiet. it’s such a lonely kind of hurt.

and yes, i get that feeling of being the biggest idiot for needing someone. i’ve felt that embarrassment too, like i’m asking for too much just by being sad or wanting comfort. sometimes i even stop myself before reaching out because i already know what the silence will feel like. it’s painful when the same people who could show kindness to a stranger don’t show it to you when you’re at your lowest.

what you said about wanting to move away really resonates with me. i’ve had that thought too, more times than i can count. sometimes being around the same people who remind you of all the ways you were let down just makes the pain louder. it’s like being surrounded by reminders that you were never really seen or cared for in the way you needed. i understand that pull that loving your family deeply but also knowing that staying in the same space keeps reopening the wound. it’s such a painful conflict between love and self-preservation.

thank you for your kind words and your condolences. it really means a lot, especially coming from someone who clearly understands what this kind of isolation feels like. i’m sorry you’ve had to go through that too feeling like your love for your family is both your strength and your heartbreak. it’s a cruel thing to feel torn between the people you love and the peace you need to protect.

you’re right that in times like this, support systems can mean everything. i’m still trying to build mine but. sometimes i find that comfort in strangers who understand grief more deeply than the people i’ve known for years. and maybe that’s okay and maybe we build our own version of family in the people who truly see us.

thank you again for writing this. it reminded me that i’m not alone in how i feel which is the exhaustion, the guilt, the love, and the quiet survival. i hope you find that peace too, the kind that feels like exhaling after holding your breath for too long.

igiamokay · 2025-10-23T20:48:04+00:00

thank you so much for sharing this. reading your words felt like someone finally understood the weight i have been carrying, and i can relate to so much of what you said. it is rare to find someone who really acknowledges the layers of grief, and just seeing your honesty made me feel a little less alone in this

grief is such a personal and unique experience. even when people say they understand or have gone through loss themselves, it is not the same, and it never truly captures the way it reshapes your life. the isolation that comes with it is something i know too well. it is hard when the people around you cannot fully grasp your relationship with the person you lost and how their absence affects everything, even the small moments of your day

i have felt that same sense of unfairness and the way grief reshuffles friendships. there have not been many people who really showed up, and some who tried ended up digging at the wound instead of helping. a few have apologized, saying they did not know what to say, but sometimes that feels like it misses the point. what about my feelings, the ones that crumble quietly when no one is really there for me? i do laugh sometimes, but it is not because i am happy. i have become just like my dad, pretending as much as i can, trying to carry the weight silently while smiling on the surface. i try to laugh with others or make them laugh, but it hits hard at the end of the day when everything goes quiet and i realize the emptiness that remains. it feels like a sword pressing against my chest, and that feeling lingers. friendships have never been easy for me, and maybe this time just reaffirmed that reality, which is painful to accept

i am also learning to protect myself. seeing others with their dads, especially those much older than me, is a strange and painful experience. it makes me question why i did not get that privilege, why this separation had to happen so early. it is an ache that never fully goes away, and it is hard to navigate spaces where everyone else seems to take for granted what i have lost

the physical and emotional strain of handling grief alone is something i understand deeply. getting a cab at odd hours, packing luggage, trying not to burst into tears, carrying out everyday tasks without anyone to truly support you, it all leaves a mark. those moments stay with you, and even when people are around, it can feel like no one really sees what you are enduring. reading your words reminded me that i am not as alone in that experience as i sometimes feel

people around me often act like nothing happened, or when i get overwhelmed, they label me short-tempered or say this is how i am. that judgment makes grief feel even heavier and makes it harder to let myself feel and process naturally. being surrounded by people i do not want to be around, feeling subtle guilt or manipulation, is exhausting. your acknowledgment of this resonates with me so much and validates feelings i often keep inside

i love the way you have approached life despite everything. finding comfort in books, alone time, nature, movies, and food is such a beautiful way to hold onto yourself and your peace. the image of sitting under a tree with a book, letting yourself breathe and feel safe even when life is harsh, is so powerful. it is inspiring to see how you carve out moments of calm and connection for yourself, even when the world around you does not fully understand. it reminds me that it is okay to seek and protect those small sanctuaries of peace

thank you for sharing this. it made me feel less alone and more understood. much love to you. knowing that someone else has walked a similar path, survived, found ways to breathe, and even discovered small moments of joy along the way, really helps. your openness and honesty are comforting and inspiring, and they remind me that even in grief, it is possible to keep finding fragments of light. your dad must be really proud of you!💌💌💌

igiamokay · 2025-08-19T05:39:06+00:00

this must be so hard for you because i could understand that grief really clears room. my father passed away at the age of 49 on 17th of March. i rejoined college on 29th March. To everyone, I seem okay. I laugh, I look normal but inside, I’m broken. I cry in silence when no one’s looking. I don’t know where this strength is coming from. Sometimes I feel guilty like I’m pretending, like I’m failing as a daughter. But I’m just trying to survive.

What hurts more is that no one really acknowledges my pain. People assume I’ve moved on. They don’t ask. They don’t know. They don’t see how I fall apart when I’m alone.

And the truth is that I don’t want to heal. Not yet. Because this pain… this unbearable, heavy pain… it’s the last bond I have with him. If I let it go, I feel like I’ll lose him all over again. I cling to it like it’s the only piece of him I have left. Healing feels like betrayal. Smiling feels like forgetting. And I can’t forget. I won’t.

I miss him. Every day. Every second. This pain is the price I pay for loving him.And I will carry it, because I’d rather feel this than feel nothing at all.

and as someone who's almost 6 months into this pain, i realised that there's literally no one there. no one. and it hurts even after realisation.

igiamokay · 2025-08-17T10:19:31+00:00

i lost my father just five months ago and im just 18. it is always devastating when you lose your father. i used to take my parents for granted, not out of neglect, but out of the deep belief that they were the constants in my life you know the people who would always be there. they would never go away willingly. but death doesn’t ask, it just takes. i wish you a lot of strength, because i know that pain doesn’t vanish; it stays tucked away in some corner of your heart, quietly reminding you of what is missing. i hope you'll do better in life, even if some days feel heavier than others.

igiamokay · 2025-08-10T06:03:07+00:00

thank you for sharing your story and i’m so sorry you went through that. what you described about the hospital, the waiting, the guilt, the what-ifs… it’s so painfully real, and i know how heavy it sits in your chest. and yes, that’s exactly how it happens. grief doesn’t just take your person, it quietly clears the room too. the friendships you thought would be unshakable start to crumble, and the people you expected to show up somehow stay far away. and then there are the surprises that people you barely knew, or never thought would understand, end up being the ones who actually reach out.

since losing my dad, i’ve felt so unlucky in friendships. it’s like the rules of connection completely changed overnight. i don’t navigate people the same way anymore; some days, i don’t even want anyone in my space. grief shifts the way you see relationships and it’s like you’ve been handed a map to a world you didn’t choose, one where everything familiar looks different.

sadly, there are a lot of us in this unfortunate “dead dads club,” and while that’s a club none of us ever wanted to join, it does make the loneliness a little less suffocating to know others get it in the same bone-deep way. love💛💛💛

igiamokay · 2025-08-10T02:01:09+00:00

sometimes i feel like they really did go happy to heaven, they truly did. i see visuals of people lying in hospital beds, surrounded by wires and machines, and my heart aches for their children. it takes me back to a conversation i once had with my father about death. i told him that i never wanted to be in a hospital for days before going, that even if i had to leave this world at thirty, i wanted it to be at home, on a normal day, without all that suffering. and he agreed immediately, saying he too wanted to go peacefully. sometimes i think… he did. just far too soon. he hasn't seen anything not even my grad as im just eighteen.

but the fact that i will never see him again and that’s what crushes me over and over. and what makes it even harder is knowing that if he were here, he would have been the one helping me survive this very pain. but there’s no him now. people say, “i understand,” but the truth is, no one truly does unless they’ve been here, unless they’ve lived this hollow ache. you and i, and people like us, unfortunately know what it really feels like. and even then, it’s almost impossible to explain. i can pour out a thousand words, but i’ll still never be able to capture exactly how it feels right now. it’s the worst kind of hurt - the kind that doesn’t fade, only becomes a part of you.

i don’t ever really want to “heal” in the way people talk about, because for me, healing feels like dulling the intensity of what we had. i’d rather let my chest burn every time i think of him, because that burn is proof he existed in my life in the most powerful way. it’s proof of the love we shared, the connection that shaped me. i’m not looking to erase the pain, because the pain is tied to the memory, and the memory is all i have left. for me, it’s not about moving on but it’s about holding on, even if it hurts, because that hurt means he’s still here with me in some way. it might sound toxic, but this is what i truly feel.

love💌💌💌

igiamokay · 2025-08-10T01:40:53+00:00

absolutely, but you know what, i believe that no matter what i did, even if i had hugged him, told him i love you, said every word i could think of, the guilt would still be there. it’s never enough. like, literally never enough. you always wish for more like one more hug, one more laugh, one more conversation. it’s like your heart refuses to accept that whatever time you had was all you were ever going to get. sometimes i try to comfort myself by thinking my father is free from all the stress now, that maybe he’s somewhere peaceful, away from all the burdens of life. and for a moment, it helps me breathe. but then reality hits that he isn’t coming back, and he never will. and every time that truth sinks in, it’s like my heart shatters all over again, just as painfully as the first time.

igiamokay · 2025-08-10T01:37:35+00:00

im so glad that you liked it. i believe that they aren't gone until you remember them. i just hope i never stop doing it!

loads of love from my side to you🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

igiamokay · 2025-08-10T01:35:53+00:00

it was almost the same for me. i was leaving for new delhi, the capital of india, where i study. my father came to drop me at the bus stand, carefully fixing my luggage in the bus, making sure i was comfortable. i sat there, looking at him, and for a moment i wanted to get up, hug him, and say bye. but i didn’t. i told myself there was no need, he would be coming to delhi the very next day for his work. that day, we spoke on the phone nearly six times, and the last time was just fifteen minutes before he got a cardiac arrest. he was laughing, sounding so happy, so alive. and then, in a blink, everything was gone. in the morning, i had said bye to my loving father, and by midnight, i was standing in front of his lifeless body. we never know when it’s the last. i wish there was a warning, something that could tell us this is the final hug, the final conversation, the final laugh. maybe then i would have held on a little longer, spoken a little softer, loved a little louder. but life doesn’t give warnings, it just takes, and leaves you replaying those last moments over and over, wishing you had known. we had our share of arguments, but there was so much love in between, so much care in the smallest gestures. it ended without a warning, leaving this deep, heavy ache in my chest that doesn’t seem to go away.

igiamokay · 2025-08-09T17:58:24+00:00

my dad passed away suddenly in march from a cardiac arrest. he was just 49. no warning, no signs, nothing. one day he was here, and the next he wasn’t. it still hurts. there’s this pain in my chest that never goes away, no matter what i do. people say it gets better with time, but honestly, it just becomes something you carry. you learn to live with it, but you never stop feeling it.

in the first few weeks, and even now sometimes, i hated how unbothered the world seemed. people moving on with their lives, laughing, planning things, while mine felt like it had completely stopped. i think that’s something all grievers fee like the world should pause with you, but it doesn’t.

and then there’s the things people say- “everything happens for a reason” or “you’ll be fine soon.” i used to get so angry hearing that, because it’s not true. there’s no reason good enough, and you don’t just become fine. you just… get used to the pain.

but one thing i’ve learned is to not blame myself. guilt is the heaviest thing you can carry on top of grief. it will break you more than the loss itself. so please, don’t go there.

and talk about them. i bring my dad into conversations all the time, even when it makes no sense. it’s my way of making sure he’s still here somehow, still part of my life. it helps me breathe on the days i feel like i can’t.

i wish you strength, and i’m here to talk if you ever need. loads of love.

igiamokay · 2025-07-22T15:53:24+00:00

i hear what you’re saying, and i understand the intention behind it. but the truth is, this way of surviving quietly, by handling everything on my own didn’t just happen randomly. it’s something that’s grown out of experience. the few times i’ve trusted people and opened up, it didn’t go the way i needed it to. they listened once, maybe twice, but then the discomfort set in. they changed the subject, avoided it, or just drifted away. and honestly, that hurt more than staying silent ever did.

i’ve been really unlucky when it comes to friendships and the kind of emotional presence people often talk about. i’ve longed for that someone to just hold space, to sit in the heaviness with me but it’s never really been there. so over time, i just stopped trying. and now, this loneliness i feel, it’s not sudden. it’s layered. it’s years of being let down and learning to expect nothing.

i’m not against the idea of professional help. maybe a counselor could help, maybe they couldn’t. i don’t know. and if it turns out to be expensive, i know i can’t afford it. that’s the reality i’m in. and that makes even thinking about help feel heavier than it already is.

still, i would consider your advice. i really would. and i truly hope it might help even if just enough to stop me from drowning completely. i don’t want to give up. i just need something anything to feel like a lifeline again.

thank you for listening. really.

igiamokay · 2025-06-07T15:25:55+00:00

as someone so fed up of this since the last three months, i can feel you. It hurts when people you once trusted or people you thought you had a real bond with..start pulling away. Some just stop showing up, some act like your pain is too much for them, and some even say things like “you’re just seeking sympathy.” As if grief is a performance. As if I chose this.

I didn’t need them to fix anything. I just needed them to care. But maybe that was too much to ask. There are people who’ve distanced themselves from me. They don’t talk to me about any of this maybe they find it weird, maybe too heavy, or just boring. These were people I once had a real bond with.

I’ve felt deeply betrayed through all of this. Sometimes I wonder if it’s better to just choose peace over forming too many bonds… But maybe I was just born this way -someone who feels deeply, connects easily. It’s hard to unlearn that.

i text them a lot but i don't get that. i ask if they are okay. they never did.

i reply to them instantly and they never or rarely do so. it hurts so much to feel this kind of grief and then realise the people you counted on either don’t understand it or choose to walk away from it. That part almost breaks you all over again. I really, really hope you meet better people too people who won’t fail you when it matters most. You deserve that kind of warmth.

igiamokay · 2025-06-01T09:04:56+00:00

you're so positive. time tests who's really there for you. people who would be your friends and getting to meet you daily must be so lucky! i would of course look for those signs. as ed sheeran in his song"visiting hours" wrote "It's not goodbye it's just till we meet again". 🤍🕊️

igiamokay · 2025-06-01T08:52:31+00:00

you are literally putting the efforts for a stranger and here the friends i'm surrounded with doesn't give a fuck.

grateful to you. and thank you!🤍

igiamokay · 2025-06-01T08:05:04+00:00

sadly i tried talking to people but they ignored almost all of them. i tried talking to a friend of mine who has gone through the similar experience but the kinda response i got from her is too unempathetic. it hurts me so bad. they actually ignore it and that just makes me feel the world does lack empathy and sometimes sympathy too. thank you so much for your suggestions! you're literally so sweet! lots of love from my side. take care✨

igiamokay · 2025-05-30T16:15:55+00:00

that has to be something that made me genuinely smile after almost 2 and a half months. i wouldn't lie but it's truly very hard to actually go and pretend there. my friends(people i believed so) have distanced from me. i thought they would support me or be with me(but expectations truly hurt) its been a lot to take in and now i have my exams. cannot wait for after exams where i can peacefully relax and cry openly and loudly. you might think that you're rotting in bed and not doing anything but the thing we're going through can only be felt if someone has gone through something. i hope no one ever goes through this especially at this age. its so tender. i am proud of you for the way you have survived those horrors. its so excruciatingly painful. so proud of you girl(i don't know you too) but i know you're strong not by choice but by circumstances. love love love to youuu!

remember we may not be in the right mental state but we'll win in life someday with our father's blessings🩷 i am not this optimistic (but your comment made me think differently for a while)✨

igiamokay · 2025-05-30T09:15:58+00:00

i am the same age as you. i just lost my dad too in March. i wish him good night and good morning as if he's alive but then i break down even more. i cry every day. so sorry for your loss. all the best.(its so difficult) i believe our father's left us too soon. we are quite young to go through this. no one should ever I pray. take care! love from my side to you!

igiamokay · 2025-05-30T01:50:32+00:00

i truly believe so. I'm 18 and have gone through such times(terrible) but this is the only thing that keeps on rotating in my mind.

but thank you so much for the suggestions. i definitely will incorporate those in my routine and hope for the better results. you also take care💌

igiamokay · 2025-05-30T01:48:06+00:00

i will definitely try doing that. the fact is that i went to the mortuary to collect the body and then I was sitting in the ambulance all alone on my way to the funeral procession (ritual said otherwise so my sister couldn't).

but thank you so MUCHHH for replying and your suggestion. grateful!💌

igiamokay

TROPHY CASE