The weight of grief is unbearable. Losing my mother in 2020 changed everything, leaving me with a sadness that won’t fade. Success, love, and money mean nothing when the will to live is gone.
The Weight of Grief: Living Without a Will to Live
I come from a middle-class family, the kind where hard work and perseverance are the only ways forward. Life wasn’t easy for me. I was bullied throughout school, and even in college, I never truly fit in. It chipped away at my confidence, slowly eroding any sense of self-worth I had.
By the time I turned 14, the anxiety had set in. I developed a stuttering problem—one more thing for people to mock me about. Every word felt like a battle, every conversation a struggle. My self-esteem plummeted, and I learned to live in the shadows, avoiding attention, avoiding life.
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A Life That Looked Perfect on Paper
Fast forward to 2020, and despite it all, I had made it. I was earning 30 LPA, more than enough for the lifestyle I had once dreamed of. I had financial security, professional success, and, for the first time, I felt like I had control over my life.
But life has a cruel way of reminding you that no amount of money can protect you from real pain.
In September 2020, COVID took my mother away from me. That’s when everything started to fall apart.
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Losing My Shield, Losing Myself
Throughout my life, after all the bullying, all the struggles with self-worth, there was one person who always stood by me—my mother. She was my shield, my protector. No matter how broken I felt, she was there to remind me that I mattered.
She defended me when things went wrong in our family. She lifted me up when I failed. She was my home.
And then, suddenly, she was gone.
It’s been five years, but the pain hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s grown stronger, more suffocating. People told me time heals all wounds, but they lied. Some wounds never heal.
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Success Means Nothing Without Her
On the surface, everything looks fine. I’m financially stable. I’m in a good relationship. I even got married in 2023, thinking it would bring me happiness. And it did, for a while.
But the sadness never left.
It lingers, like a shadow I can’t escape. A monotonic, dull ache in my head that reminds me, every single day, that she’s gone. That no matter how much money I make, no matter how much I succeed, I will never be able to hear her voice again.
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The Miscarriage That Should Have Broken Me
Two months ago, my wife had a miscarriage. It should have devastated me. And in a way, it did. But even in that moment of loss, my mind was somewhere else—still stuck in September 2020, reliving my mother’s death over and over again.
I hate myself for feeling this way. I know I should be more affected by the miscarriage, but the truth is, my mother’s absence is the only pain I seem to recognize anymore.
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The Weight of Grief: Living Without a Will to Live
I have reached a point where nothing excites me. I don’t want to work. I don’t want to meet friends. I don’t want to go out, smile, or pretend that everything is okay.
I don’t want to live a life where this sadness is my only companion.
I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know if I even want to try.
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What Comes Next?
They say grief fades, but what if it doesn’t? What if some people are just meant to carry it forever?
I don’t have the answers. I just know that I am tired of feeling this way.
I don’t want to live a life where happiness feels like a distant memory. But I also don’t know how to find a way out.
Maybe there is no way out. Maybe this is just who I am now.
Maybe this is what grief does—it consumes you until there’s nothing left.
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