When I lost my dad in June the first time I said “committed suicide” it felt so weird… but I didn’t know what else to say. My sister who has a masters in social work helped me understand that it felt weird because it really isn’t the correct thing to say and it felt like dishonoring my father but I didn’t know how to explain it. “Committed suicide” comes from when it was illegal and a crime. My father did not commit a crime. He was in pain and needed peace. I now only say “he died by suicide” “I lost him to suicide” or “he took his own life” these feel like I am not shaming or making a criminal accusation against my loving precious father. It hurts when other people say “committed” either about my dad or in this thread. I’m wondering how you all feel about keeping this thread free from the terminology “committed suicide” as best we can and if you don’t care or for some reason really desire to say that then keep using freedom of speech but please don’t comment anything negative or harsh thank you so much.
I also understand every single situation is so unique and nuanced. I do believe though most people who end their life probably don’t deserve this terminology but of course there are outliers.

In June, late June, my boyfriend unexpectedly committed suicide. Genuinely unbeknownst to anyone he was struggling with a lot more than he let on.

I struggle with a heavy guilt knowing that I failed him. I was supposed to be the person he was able to come to for support, but as it turns out, he was afraid/ashamed of his real-life struggles. I genuinely was in a sense of “La-La Land” and my partner was silently drowning while also putting up the best facade EVER, just to keep his princess happy.

I have always been a very hyper-independent individual, but I struggle with being alone now, not speaking to someone every day now. I go to therapy, I am on 4 different medications currently and I feel as if they may not be doing anything or if this is a state of placebo.

I have been stuck in a state of limbo since then, nothing has felt real, track of time, my memory, etc. I can feel the chemical imbalance but I seem to not be able to find a solution to subdue the thoughts.

Everything seems so loud, even though I spend a lot of time in the quiet. I’ve tried to motivate myself but I am struggling to find purpose. I think about ways to leave quite often and how it would affect the people around me. So many people loved him including myself, I find it hard to say the same.

I think they wouldn’t care. Any advice? or just critical ideas to think about? I just want to understand.

The way he chose to end his life haunts me. My mind can’t control its curiosity for morbidity and science.
I tend to find myself applying certain aspects to my own situation. I feel like the “white rabbit” is coming for me, sooner rather than later.

lost my sister to suicide in August. I’m falling apart. It’s not getting better. It stings a bit more daily.

I’ve tried therapy(went through 7 therapists already). That doesn’t work. Truth is I have never been someone who talks a lot so I already knew sharing all my thoughts with a stranger would be a battle.

It doesn’t feel like there’s any light. And I know I should believe it will get better I know that’s what everyone will say. There’s no one I can’t talk to. Not a spouse. Not a family member. Not a friend. I feel like nobody understands and I find that people often say the wrong things even though they have good intentions.

I’m falling a part. I find myself hoping and praying I go soon. But that my entire family goes too so nobody is left behind to suffer. I know that’s horrible but that’s what I want.

I’m not even sure why I’m making this post. I don’t know what to do. Nothing. I mean nothing has been worst than this. I wish loss on nobody. Nobody!!!

So much guilt. She was my best friend. She called me right before and I missed the call. I failed her. I failed me. How do you get beyond this????? How do you wake up and smile. Why is life so unfair?!!

I’m angry for so many reasons.i knew she was depressed. She told me she would take her life. I could have done more. I didn’t. Nobody else knew she was depressed. Nobody. Every single person she knew thought she was always happy. People are shocked she was depressed. And I’m realizing nobody knew her like I did. And I didn’t do anything. She confided in me. She was trusted me. She has helped me through so many low periods of my life when I was depressed. When I battled with childhood trauma she helped me. When it was her turn for me to help. I failed. I failed my girl. The one who loved me unconditional. The one who would do anything for me. The one who celebrated all my success as if it was hers.
When she needed me I didn’t show up like I should. I want it to end. I can’t. My mind won’t let me rest. I hate this.

I can’t help but feel mad at him and I don’t know I just don’t know how to feel. He was a beautiful soul and was the kindest guy I’ve ever known. He always reached out and I just wish he would’ve. I was always there when he needed me, I don’t know.

I (17m) lost my best friend to suicide about a year and a half ago. It took his family a long time to be ready to have a service for him but they were able to rally and had one on his birthday a few days ago.

While I was at the service I was looking around at the pictures of him and I noticed most of them were years old, only a handful could’ve been taken in the last year or two he was alive.

This could’ve been intentional. He had anorexia and had been declining in the last few years of his life but I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who ever knew about his struggles with food. If his family did know I could see it being possible that they wanted to remember him when he was happy.

The other possibility is that his family doesn’t have any recent pictures of him. He hated pictures being taken of him but I liked taking pictures of people a lot back then. He usually made me delete the pictures I took of him but I have around 50 left that nobody but me has ever seen. They’re all from the last year or two he was alive.

I’m not super close with his family and I don’t want to upset them by sending them pictures of him that were taken so close to his death but I know how much these pictures mean to me and I don’t want to keep them from his family either. Should I just go ahead and send the pictures? Should I ask first?

Update: I messaged his mom to ask if she wanted the pictures and she said yes! I sent them over just now. I honestly hope to be able to communicate with her more often, she’s very kind and it might help us both feel a bit better to talk about him

Question at bottom

I am a 25 year old guy, and I’ve been feeling a bit confused about by bereavement lately, and decided to make this account so that I could put a question forward to others going through a similar difficulty. Having said that, this is my first post from this account.

My step-father had struggled with his mental health throughout life, but only in 2025 did it take a turn for the worse due to unemployment and harassment from his previous employer. As a result, he took his life in the summer of that year following a dispute we both had over something seemingly insignificant (to me at least).

What followed from this was a series of events that left me feeling completely violated by those close to me. Obviously my mother was in complete hysterics over the situation, and yet she was met with gossip (in person/over the phone/online), unsavoury comments from family, and a general lack of support from anyone. All the responsibility of ensuring my mother was okay fell onto me and I didn’t really have anyone else to talk to about what I was experiencing.

On top of this, I was also juggling a PhD in a scientific discipline (with workplace bullying going on there). As you can imagine, the work it entails is already very mentally demanding without all of this stacked on top of it. I had a few disputes at work with colleagues over serious H&S concerns (which I was entitled to bring up) and people used my situation at the time as an excuse for their misbehaviour, and claimed that due to my situation I was “deeply mentally unwell” and shouldn’t be listened to. Obviously this made me feel violated (I try to keep work and personal life very separate) and belittled.

For a while I haven’t really allowed my mind to stray too much about my father’s death because I was dealing with a lot of stress at work and I have had to put on a bit of a brave face to take on the needs of my mother. So I don’t think I had properly attempted to process any of the situation.

I’m currently coming towards the end of the biggest chapter of my life (finishing a long term academic goal). But because the clouds of stress of my PhD are beginning to dissipate, I suddenly (and very strongly) feel the effects of losing my father. This has came on very unexpectedly.

I had been attending counselling for a mix of things, and my therapist had allowed me to talk about whatever was on my mind during sessions. Most of our conversations circulated around work stress and closing life chapters (not necessarily bereavement). I once explained that losing my father still seems very very surreal, and I don’t exactly have an angle to look at it from. She explained that sometimes our brain subconsciously prioritises dealing with different (and mostly immediate) stressors first, in my case… work and caring for my mother became the primary.

So I’d like to pose the question…

Has anyone else experienced a sudden realisation of the death of a loved one, especially after a long while from when the event happened?

I sometimes find myself in denial of the event because it still hasn’t “clicked” to me fully.

Last Wednesday my partner inflicted the wound that would kill him. He was estranged from his family, so I had to make all the arrangements to honor my guy’s wishes and then hope the absent father would consent. I was the only one at his bedside. I’m the one they call his widow.

But I can’t take bereavement leave because we weren’t living together.

This is broken and I am drowning. I can’t even take time to have my own grief because I need to answer questions and support others.

I miss him.

So im going to just lay it all out there. All the way back in 2017 i had a friend message me asking if I wanted to come have some beers. It was like a somewhat small party. Like 5 of our close friends. Everything was great. My friend who messaged me was playing the guitar. And when I fell asleep they even pranked me by throwing flower in my face. The very next day that same friend that invited me went out back of that same house and killed himself. First time I experienced that. And the fact that just a night before I was watching him play guitar and everything was fine. I was still younger. Like 20 and I was a wild one. So at the time I just drank to get over the feeling.

Let's jump to just last year 2025. Im at my house and I get a call. Another one of my friends has killed themselves. Now these days im sober. Ill have drinks but very rarely and im more of a loner. This one hit me pretty good. But I was able to move forward.

Now let's jump to just this past July. I had a friend who I knew was struggling with relationship problems. It had been going on for awhile. And I talked to him at noon and he was crying. I tried to talk to him but he doesn't like to talk like that and he hung up. I sent a text and told another friend. And thought well let me give him some time. That night at around 10pm I was told that my friend killed himself. Now this time it didn't feel like the past. This friend was like a brother brother. We have went through everything together and have lived together multiple times throughout life. And it hit me so fucking hard I was yelling your lying I was crying my back started to hurt I felt a way I never have. And I think it has all caught up with me. All of the trauma I let slide without dealing with. Since I've had bad panic attacks. I imagine the most wild stuff. And get these Erie feelings while alone. And now today I still feel the same. I honestly keep telling myself I hope I never harm myself because I dont want to. But I've heard a person say that before then go on to do it. Maybe its just not normal to have that many friends do this. But I keep trying every day to move forward. And I hope anyone else going through this keeps moving forward as well.

Losing someone so close to us via suicide is one of the most traumatic experiences we can have in this life. There's no closure, no grieving while they're still alive knowing the inevitable, no goodbyes. So much is left unfinished, and you had no idea it would be.

One thing no one tells us, be prepared to live with this grief by yourself. Some people are lucky enough to have empathetic friends and family to be there but unfortunately most dont. Others think we should be over it by now and it shouldnt bother us. Some dont know how to be present and its easier for them to not be present. Some find it easier to express concern to others rather than reach out directly. They wont remember the significance of the date.

No one has reached out to see how Im doing. No one has said, "I know this day will be hard, let me make sure you're not alone." Its a harsh reality to experience and i hope that you dont have to have this same reality. Stay strong.

"That's odd. We'll have to unpack that sometime." Was the last message I got from him 2 days prior. I had no reason to believe we wouldn't have that conversation. I miss him. Life isnt better without him. He should still be here.

Sorry this is long - I really need to talk about this

On December 3rd of last year, my uncle took his own life. I was 20, he was supposed to be turning 40 this year. I’m now 21, that was the first loss I ever experienced. Since, then I lost a distant childhood friend, and my grandpa last week to illness, it doesn’t feel the same at all. I have to be honest, over the past year I’ve felt very isolated looking online trying to find someone in my situation. I didn’t get to see him for the last year of his life, since COVID, we only saw each other at Christmas and maybe once or twice a year between that. He transitioned a few years back, and who I remember is the person he was before that, when he presented as a woman. The person I feel I’m grieving is not the one I recognise in recent photos. He would babysit me and my sister when our parents would go away, play Minecraft with us, do crafts he thought we’d enjoy. I remember one Christmas, I was about 11, he bought me lip plumping lip gloss, which I found odd then and find funny now as that was likely his attempt at trying to figure out what a little girl would enjoy as a gift, since he never felt like one when he was small. The warmth and love I felt for him when I was little, the overwhelming excitement when I knew I’d be seeing him soon has been replaced by the most confusing yearning. It feels like my grief isn’t valid because we weren’t exactly close when he passed, in my mind, he was going through a stressful period in his life and one day, when that was over, we’d sit down and talk finally as adults. He was incredibly intelligent and so funny, he was the biggest presence in any room, I can vividly hear his voice and remember how heavy his breathing would get when he was drunk with my dad and other uncle at family parties. It’s a comforting sound to me, my grandpa and dad both do that too when they drink too much. In my mind that’s when I was having the most fun as a kid. Maybe that’s also sad?? Dunno. Anyway, the point is, it feels like there’s a thick fog between me and him. I can’t see him, I can’t think of him, today is the first day I cried about this since his celebration of life in February when the tears were non stop and intense. What triggered me thinking about this was seeing a post of a woman whose husband had recently passed to suicide, asking what state of decomposition she had found him in. It brought me back to when my uncle had first passed and for weeks id be looking up the stages of decomposition, imagining how my grandparents found him in their shed, the horror, the moments following, what his skin looked like, what his neck looked like. My heart races and I start to dissociate when I give any thought to his existence. It feels like he never even existed. The last time I saw him, Christmas 2024, it felt like he wasn’t even there in the room with me when he’d speak. We only got to speak for about five minutes. I don’t understand what I’m feeling, I don’t know how to grieve him when I feel like I don’t know the person he was when he passed. It feels like this grief isn’t valid because I had and currently have a closer relationship with my other uncle. To be fair, he’s older than my late uncle, being the age my uncle was when I was born now, I can see why he didn’t have time for his little niece. I miss him so much, saying that is scary. I don’t even know how to end this because I genuinely don’t understand this. I guess I just wanted to share, I never posted before because like I said, it doesn’t feel like my grief is valid. He has left a permanent him-shaped mark on my soul and my identity, his actions have completely changed who I am now. It feels so crazy and heavy to know he will never meet who I am now, but to be honest, he would’ve never met this version of me anyway if he had stayed alive. As time goes on, it feels like more layers are being added. I miss him so much. I hate the photos of him in recent years, he looks so hollow. I feel so angry.

I have gotten to the point I cant work and my wife can. If i wasnt in the picture she would be ok. because of me trying to get a job we are 10k in debt. I cannot pay a lot of it and I almost just want to disappear and become homeless so they dont have to deal with me

I didn't mean to look up but their profile randomly appeared on my insta on suggestions. It seems like they might have been stalking me. So i looked their profile which was public, and I saw they are living a good life without any guilt. Whereas here I am still deep in depression over the loss. I might never get justice for my brother because the justice system is corrupt and sucks in my country, how do I cope?

Digame alguien cuál es mi propósito aquí en esta tierra mi esposo se suicido por mi culpa entoses mi castigo es vivir con la culpa y la tristeza asta que muera o asta que mis pensamientos me ganen que hago aquí digame si ya no soy feliz estoy sobreviviendo todos los días de mi vida poco a poco no es justo entoses que hago aquí

Hi, I’m 19 years old and this will be my first Halloween after the loss of my uncle who was my father figure. My uncle committed suicide a week after my 18th bday and I saw his body where he TW: hung him self . I struggle with chronic PTSD It’s been so hard on me . October has been triggering me so badly because people put decorations of dead bodies like that for Halloween and I can’t escape it in videos, stores, etc. I don’t know how to enjoy Halloween this year. I can’t watch horror movies or go to any Halloween events in fear I’ll see it. I don’t know what to do, but I don’t want every Halloween to be me just having to hide at home. It used to be one of my favorite holidays, the dressing up, going to haunted houses, spend time with family and friends, and now I feel so lost and alone . Please I just need anyone to respond to help me know I’m not alone. It’s so scary to go through this and I feel like I’m trapped

Edit: thank you all so much for sending support and letting me know I’m not alone. I found a lot of comfort on this community , and I hope we are all able to heal from our pain .

Two months ago my best friend ended his life. He was not only my best friend, but my partner, love, coworker, everything. We had some sort of unique and hard relationship. He was very much older than me, but it was the first time I felt I could just be me, to show my burden and just be vulnerable. We did everything together, we had similar hobbies and joys. It was the age difference and my wish to grow old together and to experience what he had already experienced that I was scared to actually be with him. We sort of stayed in a status quo position, trying to move on but not lose ourselves. And then he just ended it like that. Reading his last messages I would have act differently, but we had similar conversations often, did he wanted to kill himself everytime we talked about the same thing?
Now I feel sorry. I feel sorry for not being strong and brave enough to chose him. I feel angry at him for not sorting his life out so that maybe we could start slowly and without any troubles. I feel sorry because he was he, he was my home, my haven. There is nobody like him.
How can one except that? What is the point of everything?
I am finding myself having different thoughts, and havin easy days to having days where i dont know why am i here. I am angry at myself for wanting to have kids and normal future that we are all presented with all the time. But in the end, love is the normality we should all have.
It give me strentgh when reading all of your stories, of finding new meaning and love and joy. I am in awe of all of you.

My father died by suicide two months ago and I was the one who found his body while coming back from work. The scene was disturbing and traumatic : TW he cut himself in our family bathroom, I had to force the door open. I saw him that morning before going to work. The day before, he got me the ingredients I asked to make a cake. He told me two days before that he was going to accept a job offer he received from another company. I never expected he would do that. He was my only parent and my pillar in life, the reason I couldn't bring myself to move out because I loved him and didn't want to leave him alone.

I'm living in a small apartment in another city now. I can't bring myself to stay in this house and I don't know what will happen to it. Weeks go by and it still doesn't feel real. I feel like I'm either having a full meltdown or I'm doing good. The images of his body keep replaying in my mind when I have memories of our time together. Specialists told me to not put myself mentally in that moment because it won't bring me any good, so I keep distracting myself with other thoughts. I don't feel like I can grieve him properly. Everything is tainted by what I saw.

When I let myself feel the loss, it's crushing, overwhelming in every way. The very definition of pain. I'm stuck between wanting to move on and wanting to grieve him. I don't know what is the healthier way to go. What was your approach to continue after losing someone dear? Is it working?

I lost my brother in June. I was the last person to speak to him. I don't know how I'm supposed to deal with this. I am crippled by guilt, the anxiety is overwhelming I feel like I'm on the edge of a panic attack always.

The inquest is next week. I'm dreading it.

The week before my sister took her own life, she said that she was diagnosed with severe depression and anxiety. I said I was sorry, and that if there was anything she needed from me, she can let me know. She immediately responded that she's tried to tell me but I haven't listened, and that she couldn't rely on me.

That message has been playing on loop in my head ever since she passed. I was never the best with mental health advice, I was always scared of doing the wrong thing. So I did what I could. I always tried to talk with her after work, I asked how work was and how she's doing. I would try to listen, even if it was a complicated work issue. If she wanted me to get her food, I'd do it. If she wanted me to come with her to urgent care or the hospital, I'd do it. I tried, but my brain is telling me I'm the reason my sister died. The night before she died, I stayed at my partner's place. We had a conversation, she said she wasn't crying at work, I asked how the therapy search was going, she said she was still looking. She got us food, and lent me her bag for my overnight at my girlfriend's. She even gave me some money cause I had taxes due in a few months. I thanked her profusely, even gave her a hug. When I got back the next day, I peeked into her room, she wasn't in bed so I assumed she went to work. I messaged her a couple of times, and got concerned near the end of my work shift. I went into her room, and she was there, in a way I wouldn't have seen unless I walked into her room.

I can't get the thought out of my head that this was my fault. If I'd been better about listening the first time, she would still be here. If I'd noticed all the signs the night before, I could've stopped her. How? How do I keep going? I don't know if I can. It's all so heavy. I don't deserve to be happy. If I'd stopped my sister, if I was able to give her the help she wanted, then I do. But I don't deserve that. I don't know if I ever will.

I feel bad,
I always say yes even when I don’t want to. I’m not an only child. She died 10 years ago to suicide. But it’s easier to say yes than to say that.
I always feel bad after. Like I’m betraying her even though she isn’t here anymore.

What do you say?

This is what helped me, for my situation and I know won't fit for everyone.

Your loved one didn't pass away because they weren't loved, and they didn't pass away because you didn't do enough. They moved through to the final, fatal complication of a severe medical illness—one that they fought against with everything they had until they couldn't anymore.

As weird as that sounds, it helped me and so many of my friends move through bereavement to not only grief deeply but also recognise that our loved ones moved through real, chronic health issues that love, support couldn't fully reach and fix.

Moving forward in life I have started studying bipolar, mental health and carrying empathy a little more noticeably through this world. I like to think that his soul, light and story lives through me now.

Does anyone resonate with this? Or how are you going so far with it?

Hi sis, it’s been a while since I last messaged your old Facebook account. I want you to know that your oldest son reached out to me, he wanted to meet his auntie. He came to my house and it was like we were never separated. I took the kids to a theme park. It was so much fun.

I didn’t realise that I needed help with my grief. I’m working on processing everything, and coming to grips with your suicide. I hope you don’t mind if, one day, I don’t feel your loss too deeply.

Your youngest son has been going through a hard time accepting your loss too. I had to explain to him that you had a brain illness and didn’t know what you were really doing. He’s going to counselling, and I am his trusted confidante which is such a privilege.

I wanted you to know that your children have grown into wonderful human beings whom I cherish with all my heart. I am blessed to be an auntie to such great kids. I take my role as auntie very seriously, and if anyone hurts them, they will incur my mama bear wrath.

I still sign your name next to mine when I write cards to family members. I want to make sure that people know that you live on. My body is a portal and the dreams you had, for the future, are mine now.

You’re going to be an auntie all over again. Our younger brother is having a baby. The baby is due in November. I’m currently not speaking to our younger brother, but you know how a 20 year old is. Minor disagreements turn into immature insults.

I want you to know that I’m not angry at you. My psychiatrist told me I can have an understanding that you were ill, but that I can also be angry at the choice you made. But I can’t. I hold absolutely no anger in my heart for you. I don’t forgive you, because, in my mind, there is nothing to forgive.

I completely stopped drinking alcohol. Mummy and daddy are so proud. I have struggled with alcohol use, I even damaged my liver. Mummy said to me, “If you don’t stop drinking, we’re over.” So I made a promise to her, and I kept that promise. There’s a spark in me somewhere. And I know I’m a fighter. That’s why I always say, “Love is the most powerful emotion.” It can push us to overcome anything.

I had to take diazepam today. I had another panic attack and couldn’t regulate my nervous system on my own. But, as I get help, I’m sure I will get to a point in life where my grief will be a motivating force and not something which cripples me. Your boys are such an inspiration to me and I can learn from them.

I always associate you with bright pink tulips 🌷Too young to have matured your colours, too beautiful to be anything else other than my favourite flower.

As much as I miss you, I can’t keep letting the past intrude on everyday life. My pain is great, but history will not steal today away from me. And I hope you can forgive me for wanting to move on.

I love you so much, sis. Don’t worry about anyone in our family. We are together, and we’ve only ever known togetherness. I’ll be there for your children, celebrating each milestone for the both of us.

Lots of love,
From Missus.

I made the video I needed when I was bereaved

I hope this can help someone. 🖤

I’m so sorry that you have all gone through this. It’s been a really tough long journey and I’ve been changed forever because of it. 18 years later and it doesnt go away, but it changes.

A friend of mine, who I knew for 6 years, killed himself 3 years ago, without warning or explanation. In the immediate aftermath, denial and external responsibilities kept me busy enough not to think about it. It's only now, three years later, that I'm processing it.

He killed himself without warning or explanation, in a pretty violent and horrific manner. Sought exactly no help from anyone, as far as we know. Left no note. Nothing to explain why he did that.

As time has passed, I understand that he was probably internally struggling for a long time. It doesn't really make it any better. If anything, it kind of makes me angry. Is it weird to say that? His death caused so much grief. Was it so much more preferable to end his life and ruin the lives of the people around him, over even trying to get help? We might not have been able to fix whatever was wrong. But we sure would have wanted the chance to try.

On a deeper level, past the anger, I know that whatever drove him to do it, also probably drove him to not tell anyone. It also doesn't make me feel any better. It only makes me wish it was possible to apologize to the dead.

His funeral was hard. I took another long time friend by the arm to see the body. He was too afraid to go alone. I remember getting to the casket and looking down, and his neck was sort of bent. Guess they couldn't fix everything, you know. I had this insane urge to reach in and straighten his neck. For what? It wouldn't fix anything. But I wanted to anyways. And then our friend started crying, and I couldn't fix that either. I sat him down on a pew, and let him hide my face into my shirt as he cried. And as my shirt got soaked, I thought to myself that I couldn't fix anything, or in fact do anything at all, neither for my dead friend nor for anyone in that room, and the stone that sank into my stomach after that never really went away.

I haven't talked about it all these years. Firstly, most people are uncomfortable with grief. It's an... experience, to have to comfort someone else over your grief. I refuse to do it, so I just don't talk about it. And secondly, it's just hard. It was hard then, and it was hard after, and it's hard now. It's probably never going to be easier. If I'm honest, I'll probably never really talk about it.

I guess, on some level, I just wanted to make it real. I wanted to acknowledge what I've been avoiding all these years. He is really dead. It really wasn't anyone's fault. We all have to deal with the consequences anyways.

I wish he hadn't done that, and I miss him.

When I think about everything she went through in this life, how hard she fought, her strength, her smile, her hopes for the future and all her dreams, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I keep listening to her messages saying she’d handle things, reading her texts saying she’d be okay.
Hope is gone. At least, hope for this life. All I can do now is hope that she has finally found peace. That’s all she ever wanted, too. She wanted to find some peace in this life. She tried, but it didn’t happen.