When my grandmother finally died after a long two year battle with cancer I was a mess. I didn't cry. The whole week leading up to her wake and funeral I was poppin' perc 30's, chewin' fentanyl patches, and taking every kind of benzo I could find. I was totally fucked up for the funeral and everyone in my family knew. My Dad texted my mom (they never text each other having been divorced for over 20 years) complaining about my behavior and how I "ruined my grandmothers funeral". I was so hurt I tried to kill myself. I ended up on a ventilator in the ICU after accidentally finding the text. When they woke me up and took the breathing tube and catheter out (ouch!) I finally cried for her for the first time since she died.