What Did I Do, Fate, That You Punish Me Like That?

The Story

For starters, hello. I've read stories here, I've given advice, but I haven't written before. I have some things I want to share. I live in not much city, if it matters, I'm 27. I lived with my father, aunt and grandmother. My mother left my dad when I was 3. And since then not a word, not a bone from her. I don't know anything about her, where she is alive, etc. When I was 10, I lived with a woman. He was happy and she always treated me well, took care of me, helped me with homework and what not. She was my mother in the true sense of the word. I was glad that my father was happy, and I was by his side. Like I said, I lived with my grandmother and aunt. In a two-storey house. Grandma and aunt downstairs and me with dad and mom (as I called her already) upstairs. Everything began to line up little by little. And suddenly everything changed. When I was 17 my mother died. Injured in an accident with a minor driver. From then on, Dad shut himself in and cursed the day he was born. It worked, but I could see it wasn't good. We talked about many other things. I got him out of this state, and he got me out. I remember the summer when I enrolled in university. I got home and told Dad. He hugged me with the words: “You are my pride and happiness, son, I will remember this day forever. "An unforgettable day ... A few days later he had a heart attack at work. I was on my way and my aunt called to tell me. I don't remember how I got home. I fell into a serious condition, apparently my aunt and grandmother were not well. I gathered strength. My aunt fell ill a few years later and she left. She was unmarried and had no children. I survived and I stayed with my grandmother, I traveled 3 times during the week so as not to leave her alone, I worked to support myself and followed. I met a girl when I thought there was no happiness for me. We were boyfriends for 1 year, we lived together in my hometown and we signed. We both worked. We started thinking about a child, after a miscarriage and a lot of grief, after 2 years she got pregnant again. We would have a boy to name after my father - Preslav. My wife died during a premature birth 1 year ago. The little one survived only a few days and he left. I've been at the bottom ever since. As long as my grandmother is alive, she takes care of me as a small child. I get up, go to work and home. Nothing else. I don't talk to anyone, I don't communicate with my friends. It may sound funny and pathetic, but I cry often. I would like you to give me purely human advice. Should I go to a psychiatrist, Grandma says to help me. But I don't think the pills he will eventually prescribe will help. I do not know. I read a lot of loss stories here and that's how I get sick. You are not alone, we all bear the losses. Be strong, which I am not. Thank you for listening to me.

Last Updated
August 10, 2020
Author:
anniekawai

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