#Death

[support]

Everything okay?

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone. There are many support services that are here to help. For 24/7 peer support and other resources, message KokoBot on Tumblr.

If you are in the United States, please try:

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline (1-800-273-8255) The Trevor Project (LGBTQ youth, ages 13-24) National Eating Disorders Association (online chat, text) RAINN (National Sexual Assault Hotline)

If you are outside the United States, visit IASP to find resources for your country.

For more resources, please visit our Counseling & Prevention Resources page for a list of services that may be able to help.

#tumblr #counseling #prevention #self harm #psa #tumblr support #tumblr help #tumblr staff #depression

[reachoutusa]

Support can make a huge difference when someone is hitting a rough patch. Why wait until then to let your friends know you'll be there? Take a stand for Mental Health Awareness and tag someone you care about to let them know you have their back. ‪

#RO2Me #reachout #mental health #SALUD MENTAL #mental health awareness #go green for mental health awareness #peer support #here for you #anxiety #depression #suicide prevention #recovery #recovery is possible #fighter #end the stigma #each mind matters

[nemfrog]

Death the Strangler, The First Outbreak of Cholera at a Masked Ball in Paris, 1831. Gustav Richard Steinbrecher. 1851. Wood engraving.

Internet Archive

#death #skeleton #allegorical art #cholera #disease #epidemic #halloween #macabre #1851 #19th century #nemfrog #costume party

[sixpenceee]

This video has a deep meaning | source

#death

[grickle14]

Always a good plan.

#grickledoodle #cats #death #perfect #plan #cartoon #art #drawing #funny

[milksockets]

catholic mummifications in memento mori: the dead among us - paul koudounaris (2015)

#my scan #death

[vastderp]

I Had A Baby Brother

My brother was found dead last tuesday in his apartment.

He died anywhere from Sunday to Monday, and his landlord got worried and checked up on him and found him on the floor with one hand over his face. There was an open jug of methanol nearby. My sister thinks he drank it, I pray he didn't. It was an ugly, fucked up death.

He was in declining health this past decade because he was a paraplegic and uncontrolled diabetic. There are systems in place to help with low income people in his condition, but they were barred from him as he was a convicted felon.

He went from learning to walk again in the physical therapy pool to drinking a gallon of vodka per day, growing more hostile and bitter as the pain got worse, until his body just gave out. He drove away his friends, he drove away his family, and then he hit the floor and never got up.

I was meant to view the body with my sister and her grown kids, but the funeral home couldn't tell us where his body had been sent, and stopped answering the phone on friday before memorial day weekend, and then we had to wait for someone to follow up on my sister's dozens of phone messages, which they finally did, to try and make their little profit.

My sister, who has been handling all of this along with my niece, selected a different funeral home for the cremation because the first one was disgraceful with my mother's death in 2007, and they're disgraceful all over again with my brother's now.

At one point today they finally established contact, and asked how my sister wanted to handle the arrangements for her "father". O how casual the not giving a fuck goes! Dude pressed to make a sale even after she told him how unhappy we were with their work.

All this to say that I have a car full of inherited possessions, unused medical gear, and the shitty fucked up remnants of my brother's shrine to Mom.

Good old Mom may have died almost 20 years ago, but her gentle, loving mission to smother her only son to death (and probably into eternity) is finally successful. Of all of us, I've often wondered who got it worst: The golden child, the scapegoat, or the parentalized invisible middle kid. Now that one of us has effectively committed suicide, I guess it's for the scapegoat and me to hash out who gets second place. My mother crippled him long before his car accident, in one long and winding but uninterrupted line of consequences from his birth to death. I consider it a murder-suicide. Which was which? They were both the killer, and both the victim. Enmeshment is a motherfucker.

I'm super bitter, really fucking sad, and incredibly proud of what's left of my family for how they're coming together now. (Except my dad, who is in another state, petting his dogs, because I don't think he can really deal with this shit).

So what's left? To go put some cologne on his corpse when they finally let us go view what's left of him. He always liked to smell nice and he probably doesn't right now.

They'll cremate him, and give us a ridiculously heavy cardboard box of ashes that we'll have to carry out, knowing it's all that's left of a lifetime of struggling and pain. Probably we're gonna mix his ashes with Mom's, and make that lifetime of enmeshment official.

I hope if they go to the same afterlife, he kicks her in the cooter. I hope she kicks him back. I hope they can see each other with eyes unclouded by trauma, and forgive each other for the choices they both made. I hope they forgive me for still being mad at them both for not being stronger. I hope I will forgive myself for a lifetime of resentment and blame. I sure got enough time for that.

Jason was funny, weird, secretly really smart but never made a point of it. He was stylish. He was a broken man who could have made better choices and didn't, who was happily fed poison until he couldn't live without it, who was basically his own whole ass Pink Floyd song. His violence sent me running into a better life. His death sent me trudging back into a damaged family with gaping holes like torn out teeth, into the arms of my sister, and we reconciled. There's just us two left now, and it's our job to make something beautiful come out of this jerry springer childhood we shared. We're doing our best.

Dozens of catheters still in the package. Leakproof bed padding in a plaid pattern. Gallons of creams, antacids, fiber supplements by the jar, pressure sore ointments, fungus treatment creams, lidocaine pads, antibiotics, antipsychotics, a hash pipe or two.

An entire apartment hoarded with moist towelettes, pressure garments, and cleaning supplies. An entire life choked with mental damages and crying relatives. I put on CeeLoo Green's "Robin Williams" and sobbed until my face felt burned. It helped.

All the usable/safe to give away medical equipment is being distributed to the other impoverished disabled people in his apartment complex, who will hopefully put it to good use. I got his old manual wheelchair because sometimes I can't walk. I'm terrified of becoming more like him, so back to phsycial therapy I go.

The rest?

The memories, the pity, the jug of methanol that I pray he never actually drank, the stain he left on his floor after a lifetime of compulsive tidiness, the shrine to the woman he killed who also killed him? All these things I will keep with me forever. I will honor him. He could have been so much more, for so much longer. He had a whole story I'll never know. He contained incredible kindness and generosity, and also a rage so deep it was fatal. He was only 41.

If you can spare a couple bucks for the gofundme my niece set up, it'd really help make the financial side of this horseshit a little more bearable while we do all the shit that comes with a death. Thank you for taking the time to read this post, for your sympathies, and for reading my fucked up family trauma dump. Rest assured there will be more.

Dear god, will there ever be more.

Send help. Send pizza. Send sad hip hop. Hail Atlantis. Hail Jai.

#death #gofundme #donate if you can #i had a baby brother

[sparklecarehospital]

*thinks about that one character death and grimaces and curls into a ball on the floor, immensely in pain*

#text #death #death mention

[quasieli]

[Image description: Eight pages from the comic Mighty Nein Origins: Caduceus Clay. The first six pages feature a young Caduceus and his mother, Constance, while the last two pages show an older Caduceus, as well as his father, Cornelius, and sister, Clarabelle.

Page 1: A wide shot of the Blooming Grove, with a beautiful stone and wood temple sat at the center of a verdant cemetery. From afar, Constance calls outs "Caduceus!"

Page 2: Constance is stood behind her son, with his head only partially in frame. The first panel shows her saying, "There you are, didn't you hear me calling?" In the second panel, she is leaning down to her son, a concerned look on her face as she says "Oh."

Page 3: A smaller panel shows Caduceus cupping a dead bird in his hands, holding it tenderly. The wider panel then shows his mother sitting down beside him, the pair sat next to a head stone. He leans his head into her shoulder as she asks, "Would you like some help?" The pair then proceed ro bury the bird.

Page 4: Constance and Caduceus are kneeling in the dirt, over the bird's burial spot. Constance asks, "Ready?, with Caduceus responding "Mh-hmm." The pair touch the ground where the bird was buried, and soon a bright orange flower magically blooms from the spot, causing Caduceus to startle.

Page 5: Constance sits beside her son, her hand gentle touching his face as she says, "Death and decay are a part of a circle, a wheel turning without a beginning or end. Death is how we nurture life, Caduceus." He looks down at the flower as he asks, "Then how comes it hurts?" Caduceus lays down in his mother's arms as she explains, "Because you loved them." A smaller panel shows a closer shot of their faces as she asks, "Do you regret that love?"

Page 6: A small panel shows a closeup shot of Caduceus, looking sad as he replies "No." Another wide shot of the Grove is shown, with the pair sat at the center, Constance continuing, "Part of love is knowing they will go, and cherishing them with your whole heart in the face of that hurt." Another small panel shows a closeup of the newly bloomed flower, with some of its loose petal blowing into the wind.

Page 7: An interior shot, a number of years in the future, showing an adult Caduceus asleep in his flower filled bedroom. He wakes upon hearing the voices of his father and sister, who are in another room, getting up to go investigate. His sister says "I just don't think it's fair that --", Cornelius interjects, "Clarabelle, please keep your voice down."

Page 8: Caduceus comes down the stairs tiredly rubbing his eyes while his father and sister continue to argue. Clarabelle says, "I will not until you--", cutting herself off as she sees her brother appear. Cornelius moves to ready some gear as Caduceus asks "You're leaving?" He responds "The corruption isn't going away on its own. Maybe... maybe your mother found something out there. I'll find her and your aunt, and find a cure." Clarabelle steps forward, declaring "It should be my turn! I'm old enough and faster than you, anyway!" To which Cornelius responds, as he begins to depart, "Clarabelle Clay, mind yourself. Stay home with your brother." End description.]

Sneak preview of Caduceus's origin comic from Polygon!

Generations of the Clay family have tended to the careful rituals in the Blooming Grove. But when corruption begins to creep in on their sacred space, the Clays depart one by one to seek answers. Soon young Caduceus and Clarabelle are the only ones left, and when a dangerous burial quest falls to Caduceus, he must leave the Grove to do the family’s work.

#Death #Animal Death #Grief #Ask To Tag #Critical Role #CR #Mighty Nein Origins #Caduceus Clay #Clay Family #Constance Clay #Clarabelle Clay #Cornelius Clay #ahhhhhhhhhh #my boyyyyyy #Im so fucking excited for this #and its so pretty 🥺 #the blooming grove is so good!!! #i cant wait to see it in full

[1five1two]

#quotes #charles bukowski #death

[bad-moodboard]

Eternal Love, Frank Kunert

#sculpture #miniatures #miniature #cemeteries #cemetery #graves #grave #gravestones #graveyards #graveyard #death #love

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

New York, magazine, NYM Corp., Dec. 27, 1976 / Jan. 3, 1977

#witches #magazines #occult #vintage #new york #special year-end issue #nym corporation #one dollar #dec. 27 1976 / jan. 3 1977 #1976 #1977 #body awareness #out-of-body trips #psychic #psychic warfare #life #death #jogging #yoga

[allthecanadianpolitics]

A White Rock, B.C., family is finally getting answers about how their mother died of a medical emergency while in an RCMP holding cell.

After eight years, the Independent Investigations Office (IIO) is releasing a report showing that stereotypes about drug issues likely played a role in Patricia Wilson’s death.

“We’re lost. We’re floating adrift trying to find closure,” Nathan Beveridge, Patricia Wilson’s son, told Global News.

“She had a profound impact on people’s lives. She was super caring, loving, amazing woman who had a major flaw and that was a disease that she had which was addiction.”

The investigation into Wilson’s death is the longest in the B.C. police watchdog’s history and the findings are startling.

“To know that’s how our mom spent her last days, hours, and minutes, is terrifying. It’s just horrible,” Beveridge said. [...]

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

#cdnpoli #White Rock #British Columbia #RCMP #police #death #police watchdog

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Self Combustion by David Demaret

#David Demaret #Self Combustion #burning #art #artwork #combustion #painting #dead #death

[dripgnoll]

someone asked abt autopsy scars,, and while i AM drawing something better for it, for now heres what i already had!

its very cool to me how the inks soaked through from the previous page over night, so when i came back to add paint, the red and brown splotches on the third image had shown up stronger

the drawing on the previous page is also sniper

#tf2 sniper #sniper #tf2 #team fortress 2 #my art #blood #stiches #medical #death

[thehauntedrocket]

Death

Art by Suspiria Vilchez

#Comics #DC Comics #Death #Suspiria Vilchez #Fantasy #Fantasy Comics #Endless #The Endless #Art #DC #Women Of DC