r/CancerFamilySupport

Im 17f and my mom 52 has cancer. She had to come to the hospital since she couldn’t be at home anymore due to her struggles with breathing. She has been tired etc but i have been able to talk to her.
Today when we came to visit her, her condition has gotten really really bad. Shes basically on drugs now and her breathing is barely working on its own. I dont recognize her at all, she doesnt talk and is just not my mom anymore.
She got some medication that made her fall asleep and the sound of her breathing will probably haunt me for the rest of my life. It sounds like shes suffocating all the time and i cant be in the room while she sounds like that, it just hurts too much.
I have never felt this kind of pain. The fact that yesterday was the last day i actually was with my mother and talked to her, because this is not her.

What advice would you give to someone in this situation, im so lost and in pain.

My mom was diagnosed with glioblastoma about 5 weeks ago. She has been taking it good for someone finding out they have terminal cancer. She says she is leaving it in gods hands and that he has a plan no matter what even if something happens. This brings her peace which is what I want. But part of me gets scared because she never wants to talk about this. She tells me even me asking her how she’s feeling causes her anxiety. She doesn’t wanna talk about it at all. I try to send her survivor stories and articles for trials but she doesn’t want those either for some reason. She just doesn’t want to like acknowledge it. She’s not in denial, she knows it’s happening and she has hope but it’s just hard because I’m only 18 and I get worried and she was who I always talk to and I feel like i can’t ask questions or try to be helpful because it makes it worse for her.

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my mom got diagnosed of breast cancer in 2021 and to keep things short ill just say she got through it because shes the strongest person i know she beat cancer

in 2025 it came back it spread to alot of places, majorly at that time in the lungs she couldnt breathe without external oxygen but being herself, the strongest woman i will ever see, she beat it again

it recurred again this year

it spread to her liver and such and caused her liver markers like bilirubin to skyrocket, shes everything to me

shes been admitted in the hospital for 9 days now, she truly believed just 2 weeks ago she was fine

now the doctors have said to take her home since they cannot do anything, no anticancer treatment can help since the liver is too dysfunctional right now to handle chemotherapy

i cannot live without her i have a 8 year old sister and the house feels so empty

today she cried on my shoulder

i wish all her suffering could be solved, shes just 42, she doesnt deserve this, she's so beautiful but watching her lose energy day by day and spend most of her day sleeping hurts like someone stabbed me in the chest

i want to spend time with her but the fact she doesn't wake up or is always sleepy hurts

i wish she could get better, i love her so much

what do i do

My terminally ill sister is very close to the end of her journey and, as of yesterday, her husband used his power of attorney to ban me and one of my siblings from visiting her at the hospital. This happened after my sibling informed the doctor of our sister's wish that her "EX" not visit her in the hospital because she no longer trusted him.

My sister can no longer communicate, so my sibling shared this with the doctor and elaborated on the multiple ways my BIL has abused his power. She went so far as to threaten legal action if the hospital didn't honor my sister's wishes, noting she had proof of these in writing.

When the doctor called my BIL to relay this, he lost it and imposed the ban.

Though my sibling had dominated that conversation in the hospital, I said some things to support her. But as her delivery became increasingly fueled by anger and frustration, I regretted being a part of it and backed away to a nearby corner.

My sister will be moved to hospice this weekend, and my BIL said he may consider letting us visit via his structured schedule - "if he's able to cool down."

Many in our family are mad at the sibling for taking things this far, saying it's made an already horrible situation worse.

I cried myself to sleep last night and all morning. I had planned to be at the hospital every day, to hold my sister's hand, show her love, and provide comfort. Instead, I have been cruelly robbed of this irreplaceable time by a heartless, manipulative man.

Thanks for listening.

Cancer survivors, please reach out to me. My mother finished radiation.

We all celebrated, me, my sister, the doctors. And then.. I could see her playing it off like it was fine. But she wasn't.. she was lost. Scared. Nothing felt the same and no one was telling her what came next - side effects and how to approach them, how and what to eat, how to move, how to stop being afraid of her own body, how to feel like a whole human again. Internet is fullllll of information.

Every programme she found was scattered. She didn't know what to believe.

I didn't know how to help her, so I started building something with leading experts in nutrition, movement and nervous system recovery after cancer treatment.

I want to talk to as many people in remission as possible. I want to build something lasting, with the people who actually need it. Let me know if you are interested to fill out a survey that I have prepared.

And if you want to talk after, I'm here.

Unfortunately, I lost my mom recently to stage IV metastatic melanoma. Watching a loved one suffer through cancer is so depressing and honestly traumatic. In her final weeks we had brought her home for at home hospice, her wishes to be in the comfort of her own home. I would have taken care of her for as long as she needed, and as much as I didn’t want to lose her, I know she was suffering badly at the end & she is at peace now. I’ve been so sad, heartbroken, angry. I know that everyone grieves differently, but does anyone have any advice on what they did after losing their mom? I feel as though I will never feel happy again. I’ve just been depressed and feeling numb. I keep thinking of all of the things she’ll never be here with me and my brother for. Our weddings, becoming a grandma. Ugh, my heart. I miss her so much

She’s been fighting metastatic breast cancer for around 11.5 years at this point. She’s one of the strongest people I’ve known. She made it to 65, so officially a senior citizen, but realistically with so much more life to live if things were fair. On one hand, I never thought she’d make it this long; on the other, I’m still somehow not ready.

I know that’s not how it works. I know you don’t magically learn how to conquer grief just because it’s spent over a decade stalking you. But realistically, knowing it can get worse at any moment still doesn’t prepare you for when it does.

She had been dealing relatively well with everything until just after Thanksgiving last year, when a gallbladder attack coincided with her latest chemo treatment not working anymore. She’s been bedridden since, but still cognizant and conversational. But she had a sudden steep downturn last evening, and although she was still aware when we left near midnight, by the time we got back today she had become more unresponsive than not. I learned what “terminal restlessness” is because she seems to be experiencing it.

But still, as we were leaving today, I kissed her on the forehead and cheek and told her that I love her so much, and heard her faint and weak voice respond “love you”.

It should feel like a gift, and it does, but it was also so, so, so completely devastating on a level I didn’t predict. I had spent the whole day trying to make my crying silent so she couldn’t hear me, but after that, I just crumpled. I was absolutely not quiet about my sobbing at all, which I feel horrible for exposing her to.

I’ve had very intense anticipatory grief the past few years, but like 20% of it was always reserved for being terrified of how my dad would react to everything. He and my mom don’t socialize much outside the home, so they were pretty much each other’s everything. He once kind of not-actually-joking “jokingly” blamed my sister and I for causing everything to spiral downwards by bringing semi-rich food over for Thanksgiving, although of course we didn’t know her gallbladder was a problem at the time. I tried not to be too hurt because he's really struggling and I know he feels some pain about not being able to be a perfect caregiver, but again, it's one of those things that's just not that easy to not feel. He’s also alluded to “not being able to promise [not to hurt himself/commit suicide]” today (not said out of the blue by him, and part of me is still just hoping there was some miscommunication involved, but still). So I can’t even just wallow in my grief because my nervous system keeps pinging that I need to do! Something!!! Danger!!!!!

I know this post is a mess. Sorry. I truly do appreciate it if you made it this far. I just feel so lost and unmoored and I know it’s only going to get worse.

But my ancient 14 yo cat who loves complaining like an old grandma let me snuggle her tight multiple times today, so that was nice.

Things are so bad right now it feels made up.

A few months ago, we rushed my mom to the hospital because we thought she was having a stroke. Turns out she has a super rare cancer in her spinal cord the doctors have never seen. After months of unsuccessful stays in the hospital, she is now partially paralyzed and lost her ability to walk and feed herself. 3 months ago she was watching my neice, gardening and going to the gym daily, now she's recovering from emergency surgery and getting intensive rehab just to be able use the bathroom. My mom is the nicest, best person in the world, and it is so hard to see her like this. My dad is crying everyday and my siblings are struggling. I feel immeasurably grateful that I get to spend this time with her, but it is so hard.

I'm crushed, and it just doesn't feel real.

In the background, my wife (mid 30's F) and I (mid 30's M)(married 2 years) have been struggling since marriage and separated a few months before my mom got sick. We dated since college (in our early 30's now) and have survived many hardships together (her mental illness, her gma dying suddenly, her family falling apart, father in law got cancer). Honestly, I hoped that getting married would help resolve some of our issues. Obviously, it didn't.

It feels worse to talk to her about my mom than to talk to no one. And in the weeks since my mom has gotten out of the hospital, my wife has picked multiple "storm out of the room" fights with me where I can't even speak without being shut down.

I've rarely felt heard or truly cared for in my relationship, but still, not being able to talk to her after coming home from crying with my paralyzed mother feels devastating in a way I didn't think possible.

Next week is our two week anniversary, and I think I just want to ask for a divorce, but how am I supposed to survive all of this?

How have you all managed a sick parent, shock, grief? How can I take advantage of this time with her and make her feel loved and cared for?

What do I say to my wife? How do I survive this?

It feels like a dream just writing this.

It was few long years. She was so independent and stubborn that she fought me taking over care to the last she could stand to.

Triple negative breast cancer.

Two rounds of chemo.

No response to chemo.

Neuropathy from the chemo... that didn't help... she suffered.

Mastectomy.

They did their best to not damage her use of her left arm, but it did. She could no longer put on regular shirts because of the limited range... it hurt... she suffered.

Radiation.

A break for other health treatments... but... it was there again already.

In her lung.

It grew. She suffered...

She did her best to suffer quietly at times. At others she would fight us over wanting more and more meds, which we could only give her so much, because they were only refilled every so often, and beg the nurses to adjust her meds when they came.

I watched her lose her ability to keep track of things. I watched her lose her ability to walk on her own. I watched her stop eating. I watched her stop being able to sit up. I watched her stop being able to swallow her meds. I watched her die...

I remember putting lotion on her arm, realizing how thin she had gotten, and keeping a straight face till I got to my room to cry.

It's been a few weeks. I do okay most of the time. Today is not one of those days. I miss my Mom.

Sorry, I don't know why I'm posting. To vent into the air since I can't just scream I guess.

I’m 37 and my mum has terminal pancreatic cancer. We’ve been told she may only have weeks left.

I’m trying to support her, my sister, my wife and my three kids, while also keeping myself functioning. Some days I can handle what needs to be done, and other days the reality of losing her hits me hard.

I’m looking for advice specifically from men who have been through something similar. I respect that grieving and crying are part of it, but I’m not really looking for the standard “just let yourself cry every day” advice. I’m looking for honest, practical, straight-shooting advice about how you accepted what was happening, stayed present for your mum, handled the responsibility, and eventually kept moving forward without the grief destroying you.

I’m not trying to avoid the pain. I just want to learn how other men have faced it and come through the other side.

Am I loosing my faith by believing that my mother will be healed (she has advanced metastatic uterine carcinosarcoma) but if it’s in God’s will no amount of praying will stop God from taking my mother?

I don't know how to deal with my mom. She has cancer. Stage 4 as of March. I haven't kept up with her chart.

I have been giving her financial assistance ever since I have been able to have a big boy job over the last 8 or so years. Even in-between jobs. About 1k a month. I paid off half of her car with my dad. I paid a recent 6.5k cancer bill. She has another.

I have been out of the job for almost a year now. I live in a city where rent is expensive. I have also been going through my own depression after a breakup with someone I was hoping for a long-term future with. I no longer have health insurance. I am only now regaining the capacity to focus on interviewing for something in a career that burned me out. I have essentially wanted to die but guilt from leaving my mom and

I have been going to Therapy on and off for about 5.5 years total generally to navigate things with myself. I have discovered that I have ADHD autism and OCD, and, after recognizing these things in myself, I am also seeing them manifest in her. The knowledge has given me understanding, but it's so hard to hold space for her because...

She is mentally 14.

She has been through a lot. She grew up poor. Her dad wasn't supportive growing up and walked out. She got divorced from my dad 10 years ago, SAHM. Highschool sweethearts so never developed an identity outside of that. At some point she had 3 jobs all retail or gig working.

My brother and I have both lost our jobs as she decides not to renew her apartment lease.

I never realized the extent to which she was incompetent. There were moments, don't get me wrong that, had shown me that she is a frustrating person. She is essentially a Karen. I always thought that that was a behavioral problem. Having been to Therapy, I now realize that it is a neurodivergent problem.

She literally isn't not understanding the social cues that she needs to function with others. In her lack of understanding, she has burned a lot of bridges with family that I could really need in supporting her. She thinks that everyone is out to get her but me and my three siblings. She hasn't told anyone outside of us about her cancer asked to keep it secret.

All three of us have only limited capacity to deal with her. There have been times when I have had to take $50 Ubers somewhere else trying to manage the rage inside of me when she disrespects my boundaries, ADHDs out, or acts entitled "because she's my mom". I understand it because her life has been shit so the title and the past is all she really has. But fuck, ever since they got divorced the parenting roles have reversed. I had a therapist and after about 3 months, they said I could let her be homeless ( in therapy talk ). I wanted to resist it, but, going to visit her mentally broke me. I basically stopped interacting with her much for a couple of months, and, unfortunately it helped.

I have the money. I'm just so fucking tired of it. I'm so fucking tired. I'm so fucking tired. I'm dealing with my own shit, I don't have kids. It just fucking sucks investing so much into my mom but not having a mom.

I told her that I wouldn't give her money unless she did what I said and told people outside of us she has cancer. She of course doesn't want to. I don't want to use the authority for evil, I just want her obedient so I don't have to waste the emotional energy to convince her. To convince her to let my doctor friend explain her chart. Convince her to reconcile with her siblings. Convince her to stop ranting at me. I'm tired.

I need help. I need critique. I need advice. Please help me.

I’m hurt. Sad. In shock. I didn’t find out till today yet he passed yesterday. I didn’t get to say goodbye . I believe his final wish was to die in peace alone and it hurts a lot . He was in a lot of pain and the cancer was spreading .

I definitely have some guilt and regret for not making more of the time, I hope he is not in pain anymore.

I’m just really sad. 😔 I think a part of me will be for the rest of my life

My husband is the perfect man. Every woman I know has told me so. I just found out why.

We met three years ago. He was everything. Attentive. Funny. Remembered the name of my childhood dog on the second date. My friends were almost annoyed at how good he was. "Nobody's that perfect," my best friend Kara said. I laughed. I should have listened.

The wedding was beautiful. The house came next. A Victorian fixer upper in a small town two hours from the city. His idea. "We need space," he said. "Away from all the noise." I agreed. I was in love. I would have agreed to anything.

The first year was good. He cooked. He cleaned. He left notes on my pillow. He planned surprise trips. He never raised his voice. He never forgot an anniversary or a birthday or a random Tuesday he'd declared "us day." My mother adored him. My coworkers envied me. Kara stopped warning me and started saying she wished she could find someone like him.

I noticed the first thing about six months ago.

It was small. So small I almost didn't register it. He was chopping vegetables and I saw him switch the knife from his right hand to his left. I said something like "I didn't know you were ambidextrous." He smiled and said "I'm full of surprises." I let it go.

But I'd known him for two and a half years at that point. I'd watched him write, eat, drive, throw a football, open jars, brush his teeth. He was right handed. He had always been right handed.

Now he was left handed. Like a switch had flipped.

I started watching.

His handwriting changed. Not dramatically. The slant was slightly different. The pressure was lighter. If you weren't looking for it you'd never notice. I was looking.

He started sleeping on the other side of the bed. He started taking his coffee black instead of with cream. He started humming songs I'd never heard him hum before. Old songs. Songs from before he was born.

Small things. Tiny things. A dozen tiny things that each meant nothing on their own.

I asked him about the coffee one morning. "Since when do you drink it black?" He looked at me with this expression I'd never seen before. Not anger. Not confusion. Something else. Something calculating. Like I'd asked a question he'd been expecting and he was deciding which answer to use.

"Trying something new," he said. "New year, new me." It was June.

I started keeping notes in a private document on my phone. A list of changes. The handedness. The handwriting. The coffee. The sleeping position. The humming. I added to it every time I noticed something. By August the list had 47 entries.

Forty seven.

I know. I know what that number means now. But I didn't then.

The dog knew first.

We have a golden retriever named Gus. I've had him since before I met my husband. Gus loved him from day one. Would sleep at his feet. Would bring him toys. Would whine when he left for work.

Around the time I started my list, Gus stopped doing any of that.

He wouldn't enter the same room as my husband. He'd freeze in doorways. He'd growl low in his throat, a sound I'd never heard him make. At night he'd press himself against my side of the bed and stare at the bedroom door. All night. Every night.

My husband said Gus was getting old. "Dogs get weird in their senior years," he said. Gus is four.

Last month I woke up at 3 AM and my husband wasn't in bed. I found him in the basement. He was standing in the dark, facing the wall, completely still. Not moving. Not speaking. Just standing there like someone had paused him.

I said his name. He turned around and his face was wrong. For just a second. Less than a second. His features were slightly off. The eyes a little too far apart. The mouth a little too wide. Like someone wearing a mask that had slipped.

Then it was gone and he was my husband again. Smiling. "Couldn't sleep," he said. "Came down here to think." He kissed my forehead and went back to bed. Then it was gone and he was my husband again. Smiling. "Couldn't sleep," he said. "Came down here to think." He kissed my forehead and went back to bed.

I stood in the basement for ten minutes after he left. Trying to convince myself I'd imagined it. Trying to unsee what I'd seen.

I couldn't.

That night I added entry 48 to my list. "Face slipped."

The next morning I called Kara. I hadn't talked to her in months. He'd slowly separated me from everyone. Not dramatically. Not with rules or demands. Just with suggestions. "Kara's kind of negative, don't you think?" "Your mom stresses you out, maybe we skip this visit." "Your coworkers don't respect you, you should look for something remote." One thread at a time until I was alone in a Victorian house two hours from anyone I knew.

Kara didn't answer. I tried my mom. No answer. I tried three other friends. Nothing. I checked my texts. My calls. My emails. I'd been reaching out. I had the sent messages to prove it. But nobody had responded in weeks.

I checked my husband's phone while he was in the shower. I found a blocked numbers list. Kara. My mom. My dad. My brother. Every friend I'd ever had. Every coworker I'd ever mentioned. Blocked. Not on my phone. On his. He'd been intercepting. He'd been responding to them as me. Telling them I needed space. Telling them I was going through something. Telling them not to contact me.

There were hundreds of messages. Months of them. He'd been both of us. The perfect husband and the wife who was pushing everyone away. Building a cage out of my own voice.

I didn't confront him. I pretended everything was normal. I smiled at dinner. I kissed him goodnight. I waited until he was asleep and then I went to the basement.

I don't know what made me look behind the water heater. Some instinct. Some part of my brain that had been putting pieces together while the rest of me was playing wife.

There was a door. Not a real door. A hole in the wall, covered by a piece of drywall that had been cut to fit. Behind it was a space. A small room. Maybe six feet by four feet. Concrete floor. No windows. A single lightbulb hanging from a wire.

And on the floor was a phone.

My phone. My old phone. The one I'd "lost" at the airport six months ago. He'd helped me look for it. He'd been so concerned. He'd bought me a replacement the next day.

The phone was still on. It was plugged into a charger that ran through the wall. The screen showed a messaging app. Open to a conversation with someone named "Collector."

The last message was from three hours ago.

"Specimen 47 is fully integrated. Subject has not detected the transition. Recommend proceeding to harvest phase. Estimated yield: 94% compatibility. Previous specimens: 46. Success rate: 100%."

Above that were photos. Dozens of photos. All of women. All taken without their knowledge. Sleeping. Showering. Reading. Crying. Living their lives while something documented them.

One of the photos was of me. From last night. Asleep in my bed. Taken from the doorway of my bedroom.

I scrolled up. The conversation went back years. There were 46 previous "specimens." Each one had a name. Each one had photos. Each one had a final message: "Harvest complete. Specimen \\\[number\\\] processed. Replacement deployed."

I looked up the names. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely type.

Every single one was a missing woman. Different states. Different years. All unsolved. All last seen with a boyfriend or husband who was described by everyone as "the perfect man."

I heard footsteps above me. He was awake.

I'm in the bathroom now. The door is locked. He's knocking. Softly. Patiently. The way he does everything.

"Babe. Come out. Let's talk about this."

His voice is exactly right. Exactly the voice I fell in love with. Warm. Concerned. Loving. But I can hear something underneath it now. Something I never noticed before. A second voice. Quieter. Behind the first one. Like two people speaking at the same time but one of them is farther away.

"Babe. I'm not going to hurt you. You know me. You know I'd never hurt you."

The door handle is turning. Slowly. The lock is holding but I don't know for how long.

I'm posting this because I need someone to know. If you're reading this and you're in a relationship with a man who's perfect. Too perfect. If he remembers everything. If he never gets angry. If he's slowly separated you from everyone you used to know. If your dog won't look at him. If you've noticed small things that don't add up.

Check his phone. Check the basement. Check behind the water heater.

And count the changes. If you've noticed exactly 47 of them.

Run.

I live on a completely different continent to the rest of my family. Have done for almost half my life now. But now my mom has brain cancer/GBM and I feel so goddamn helpless. I was able to drop everything and fly to Indonesia when the initial diagnosis happened, but now that they're in the States the time difference and the 15 hour flight from Sydney and the World Cup fucking up air travel prices are really killing me.

I feel like most people would expect me to be distant from my family, but honestly I'm in touch with my parents more than some of my friends with local family are. We are extremely close, despite the geographical distance. And not being able to be there to provide practical support fucking hurts.

I can't exactly drop the life I've built here over the last 21 years and quit my job and rush to her bedside. I feel like such a bad kid even though I'm doing everything I can.

This is shit and I hate it.

Has anyone else been in a situation like this?

What is something you guys wished you'd know before ?

What can I do to help him ? I'm very scared

I'm 31, and my mom has leukemia. I feel like I'm watching the person I love most slowly disappear right in front of me, and it's destroying me.

She has sores all over her legs. She says her entire body hurts every single day. Sometimes she's crying because the pain is so bad, and there are days she can barely walk. Seeing your own mom like that is a kind of pain I wouldn't wish on anyone.

I already lost my older brother to cancer on September 12, 2023. I still haven't fully recovered from that, and now I'm terrified I'm going to lose my mom too. I honestly don't know how much more of this I can take.

I don't know what I'm going to do if I lose her. She's the only person in my family I'm truly close to. The thought of coming home one day and her not being here makes me sick. I feel helpless because there's nothing I can do except watch someone I love suffer.

I'm super depressed. My mental health is at rock bottom, and most days I feel like I'm barely holding myself together. I just needed to get this out because I don’t really know how to hold all of this in

my father passed 3 weeks ago. he passed the day he was all set to start a clinical trial drug that would have saved his life and I am broken. he meant the world to me and was my favorite person on this planet.

I came to this group a lot and found a lot of support for different complex emotions and situations — even made 2 friends from this group who happen to be same age same city who have already lost or will lose the same parent to cancer. I like to believe that this is a gift my father’s soul planned for me before he transitioned so I would feel less alone in my pain.

keep fighting hard for your loved ones to the extent that it’s possible. I did everything humanly possible for my father to give him his best shot — that has given me a tremendous amount of peace in my darkest days since his transition. I’m thinking of you all here and I wish you all the very best ❤️ and I’m praying for a miracle for those that need it.

As above. She was diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma in January. We’re in the UK. The doctors cut out a small tumour but can’t find the primary, so she’s on immunotherapy to try and flush out her body. She was warned the side effects could include pain and exhaustion and low mood, and well, she’s getting that by the truckload.

She’s always had anxiety and depression but now it’s the worst I’ve ever seen. She spent 6 months on sick leave but has had no choice but to return to work or else face a pay cut which we can’t afford.

But her energy levels are stopping her from performing to standards - at least, she feels she’s not performing, and is convinced that work will use it as an excuse to sack her or else put her on a shitty job. She’s a civil servant.

We have health insurance and she’s making a claim but apparently they specifically don’t cover the specific type of cancer she has, so she’s not expecting any relief there.

Her entire sense of self-worth is mixed up with to the extent she feels she’s able to help others. Before she got cancer she was able to do that in her job but now she feels she’s not, and it’s making her mental health worse. It’s affecting everything she does and she says she’s constantly struggling to contain her feelings so she doesn’t explode in rage as work colleagues or our two children.

She hates herself and finds no joy in anything. She said she’s given up trying to find things to look forward to, as she has no energy or time to do anything, and she’ll likely die soon anyway. Instead she just spends her thoughts *not* wanting things.

Some people suggest stupid shit like ‘be grateful it’s not X’ or ‘just suck it up and accept the new normal’ and stuff like that and it absolutely enrages her.

I genuinely don’t know how to help her. I’m doing all I can to care for the kids and keep the house clean in between my work, but I have to travel to London at least once a week and when I come back she’s so exhausted and miserable she laps into tearful rage that she unleashes when the kids are in bed. It’s not rage at me, but I’m present when it happens and it just tears me up.

I don’t know what to do. I have nobody to talk to. She does have some she talks to - friends and her church - but I don’t think she fully opens up to anyone like she does to me - she feels safe breaking down in front of me - but it’s taking a huge toll on my own mental health. And I can only think what it could do to the kids, who are 4 and 10.