10 month grief update (tw: suicide) finding a new normal.
if you want more context about everything: https://youtu.be/OeRsOtbM9ds?si=rrbHlIq4-680JnIB
wrote this 10pm on August 19th 2026:
this video was filmed in June & was supposed to posted in June/July, but my channel was gone during that time. it's my 10 month grief update & i feel ready to share. maybe this can help someone. at this point in time, it has been a year & its been hard. i might make another ramble update soon. love you all.
wrote this around June/July:
#suicideawarness #mentalhealth #dysfunctionalfamilies
I feel like my entire life has been leading up to the news of my dad's suicide. So much of my childhood was spent hoping things would get better, believing things would change; thinking that my mom would stop hoarding or my dad would finally choose a different life for himself, like finally divorcing my mom like he had vented to me thousands of times. I guess I didn't realized that was it never going to become a reality.
The biggest question I've carried my whole life is: How do you help someone who doesn't want help? How do you inspire someone to change, to ask for help, to be open to a different way of living? How do you change someone's beliefs when they don't believe anything needs to change?
I'm not trying to blame my dad. Life was hard for him. He did everything he thought he was supposed to do—he got married, had three daughters, worked two jobs, and spent his life providing for us. But somewhere along the way, he stopped taking care of himself. I don't think he knew how to rest or ask for help. It felt like he became trapped in depression, paranoia & routines so deeply that he no longer knew how to enjoy life.
For 28 years, I begged him to be open to advice, to therapy, to new ideas, to change. I'll always wonder why he couldn't hear me. I'll always wish I had one honest conversation with him; the conversation I'd wanted for years. In fact, that was the last thing I asked of him before he left this world.
So I keep coming back to that same question: How do you help someone who doesn't want it?
I think it's one of the hardest questions in the world because people usually don't change until they want to. But what happens when someone is drowning & can't even see they're drowning? Everyone around my dad could see his depression. We could see the mess he was living in. We could see what seemed like simple solutions. But to him, those solutions felt impossible.
Now I live with grief, guilt, and regret. I ask myself why I didn't do more? Why I didn't spend more time with him? Why I didn't pour every ounce of myself into trying to save him? Then I remember why.
I remember the constant fighting, yelling, hoarding, disappointment, silent treatments, paranoia, depression, anxiety, insults, accusations, and emotional abuse. I remember my parents pushing me away every time I tried to help. I remember my dad saying he would divorce my mom but never doing it.
I remember him telling me he never would have married my mom if he'd known this is what life would become. I remember him telling me to be nothing like my mom.
I remember my mom telling me to go to hell, to move out, and to leave her alone whenever I begged her to stop hoarding.
Three girls shared one bedroom until I eventually moved myself into a dusty garage surrounded by my mom's hoarded belongings, the washer & dryer, & my dad's tools because I needed somewhere to breathe, just a little space of my own.
And the last words my dad ever said to me in person were after begging him once again to get help & make some changes in his life, without looking at me & walking away, he said, "Leave me alone." And walked out my door & that was the last time I ever saw him.
So I understand why I eventually stepped back.
It wasn't because I didn't love my family. It wasn't because I didn't care enough.
It was because they didn't want to listen. They didn't want to do the painful work of changing. And I didn't want to just sit in that either. I knew there was more to life than arguing with my parents about my mom's hoarding.
They didn't want to face what was happening to our family or admit where they had failed or face the mistakes they made.
If they had, I would have forgiven them in a heartbeat. I would have stood beside them every step of the way.
But they never did. Things only got worse.
When I think back over every version of myself…the little girl, the teenager, the young adult, and now…I realize something heartbreaking.
They are all finding out & none of them are surprised by what happened.
I think that just makes it hurt so much more.
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