Stuck in grief after the loss of my son

[mrob]

I lost my son in 2022 in a car accident. He was 20, deeply loved, and well known in our community. Since his passing, I’ve been living with intense and ongoing grief. What’s made it harder is that circumstances after his death left me without any of his belongings or keepsakes. I feel like I’ve been robbed of the chance to grieve properly.

In the first year, his friends were around a lot, and that helped. But over time, the group has broken up. Sometimes, they send messages, but I feel like the world is moving on without me. I remain here, trapped in my pain, while everything else continues to move forward.

I’m also trying to support my younger son, who is only 10. He’s grieving silently—I know he’s trying not to upset me, so he feels that he can’t talk about his pain. It breaks my heart to see him carry this alone. We tried counselling, but they could only get him to open up for five minutes per session.

I can’t really work anymore, although I try. I rarely sleep through the night. I can’t even visit my son’s grave. Most days, I stay at home feeling overwhelmed by sadness and disbelief, which negatively affects my health—emotionally, physically, and mentally. However, I chose to immerse myself in my studies and am currently pursuing both a bachelor’s and a master’s degree simultaneously; I found that this helps keep my mind distracted. But I will graduate from one course this year and another next year—I really need to be in a better place before I start my new career.

My therapist encouraged me to call Griefline, but I wanted to try connecting with others first. If anyone has experienced grief that’s been complicated by trauma or loss of control, I’d really appreciate hearing how you’ve coped. I’m hoping to find some understanding or support because I feel like I’m alone in this.

I also hope that by sharing my journey, I might help others who are navigating grief and trauma too. If you’re walking a similar path, I’d be honoured to walk alongside you.

Thank you for reading.

Topic

[VM_Maria B]

hi @mrob, Thank you so much for sharing your story. I’m truly sorry for the loss of your son and for all the pain you’re carrying. What you’re experiencing—the feeling of being stuck in grief while the world moves on—is something I deeply understand. Losing someone so suddenly and not having keepsakes or memories in physical form makes it even harder to process everything.
It’s beautiful and brave how you’re holding space for both your grief and your younger son’s, even when it feels overwhelming. I’ve also found that grief isn’t something you “get over,” but something you learn to carry with you in new ways. Finding even small ways to honor your son’s memory—through writing, planting something living, or sharing stories—can sometimes create little moments of peace.
You’re definitely not alone in this, even when it feels that way. If you ever want to talk or share more, you can always call GriefLine, our helpline on 1300 845 745 between the hours of 8am and 8pm, 7 days a week. You may also find some of the resources on our website helpful: https://griefline.org.au/resources/
Sending you and your family so much strength and gentle support.

[vm-Maisy]

@mrob
Hi there,
When you mentioned that the world keeps moving forward. I really felt that.
It’s hard to feel like support stops or lessens as time moves forward, almost leaving you behind.
When I lost my partner 2 years ago, I joined a support group. Not all the stories related to mine but I needed to be apart of something where people understood to weight of what I was feeling.
Griefline offers zoom support groups, I wonder if this would be something you would be interested to try. I will attach the link for the sign up and also an attachment that looks at sleep hygiene to help you get some needed rest.

Sleep help
support group

[mrob]

The main reason I returned to school was to honour my son. Over two decades ago, just six months after giving birth to him, I began studying to become a social worker. But single motherhood made it impossible to finish. Years later, I was two units away from completing a master’s in public policy when he passed away—just weeks before my final assignments were due. I deferred everything.

Now, I’m back studying both degrees simultaneously, and I’m doing it for him. I know I still have something to offer. I’ve also started exploring volunteer work and fundraising for children—it’s a bit chaotic, but it feels right for now.

One of my proudest memories is from a night out with him. He insisted I meet his homeless friend—the same man I had quietly supported after hours, just trying to do good where I could. It turned out my son had been doing the same, in his own way. That moment made me feel like I wasn’t just raising a child—I was building an army of empathy. He was everything I hoped the world could be.

I’ve always aspired to leave the world better than I found it. And in that moment, I noticed that my son had already started doing just that. I share this because I need people to know—even anonymously—how proud I was, and always will be.

Your story about your sister and your mum resonated deeply. Thank you for sharing something so personal. Grief is so isolating—I found myself turning to academic journal articles to try to understand and analyse how I should feel or make sense of what was happening. I wish I had accessed this platform earlier, because you are exceptional. And I suspect there are others here with just the right words to make this journey feel less lonely.

Each day is a challenge. Tomorrow, I’ll be attending court again—this time for a matter that has added another layer of pain to my grief. It’s been nearly three years of emotional exhaustion, disbelief, and navigating a process that has made healing even harder.

I often feel like I keep losing him—again and again—every time something new hits while I’m already down.

Thank you for holding space for stories like mine.

[VM_coco8]

I’m so sorry for your loss. Losing a child is one of the hardest things anyone can ever go through, and the grief that follows is beyond words. It’s completely normal to feel the way you’re feeling, and my heart truly goes out to you. Not having his belongings to hold onto would have felt like another loss in itself, as those keepsakes often bring comfort.
I can imagine how much it meant to have his friends around in the beginning, and how painful it must feel now that life seems to have carried them forward while you’re still in the depth of grief. It’s kind that they still reach out sometimes, but I know nothing can ever fill the absence of your son, who sounds like he was a beautiful soul, deeply loved by many.
I also hear the weight you carry in supporting your younger son. Children grieve in such different, quiet ways, and I can understand how hard it is to see him holding it in for your sake. You’re right—he is grieving too, even if it doesn’t always show.
I think it’s a real strength that you’ve continued with your studies, even though everything else feels heavy. Keeping your mind engaged is a positive step, but it doesn’t take away from the depth of your pain. Grief like this doesn’t disappear it becomes something we learn to live alongside, while holding onto the love and memory of the person we’ve lost.
You’re not alone in this, even though it often feels that way. By sharing your journey, you’re already helping others who are walking a similar path. Your therapist was right about contacting griefline, there are many people who are in the same situation as you and have lost a loved one. My sister passed away, many years ago and at the time, my parents were so deep in their own grief that, as a child, I tried to keep my pain to myself because I didn’t want to burden them. My mum could see this, though, and she always carried her own heartbreak alongside mine.
Over time, I learned to slowly live with the loss of my sister. Therapy was a big part of my healing journey it helped me work through the trauma and eventually find ways to move forward. It also gave me the strength to now walk alongside others who are experiencing grief.
For my parents, it took many years before they felt they could accept the her death. My mum eventually returned to work and began finding small moments of joy again spending time with friends and family, gardening, and talking about my sister whenever she could. Keeping her memory alive brought her comfort. We kept her photo up at home, and speaking to her out loud often helped my mum feel close to her.
Maybe one day, in your own time, finding gentle ways to honour your son’s memory whether that’s through photos, rituals, or simply talking about him when you feel able might bring moments of comfort too. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve, but sometimes holding onto those everyday connections can help us carry the love forward.

[Author]

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