Let’s talk regret

Let’s talk regret

Regret is rarely about the big, dramatic things.

It’s not usually “I wish I bought the bigger house.” It’s more often:

“I wish I had said I love you more.”
“I wish I hadn’t held onto that fight.”
“I wish my family knew what I actually wanted.”

In end of life spaces, regret shows up in whispers. In hospital rooms, in waiting areas, and in adult children trying to guess what Mum would have wanted.

And here’s the hard truth: most regret isn’t about dying… it’s about not living honestly before we do.

The Three Most Common Regrets I See

1. Not Having the Conversation
Families scrambling because no one talked about preferences, values, or medical decisions. Avoidance feels easier… until it’s urgent.

2. Leaving Things Unsaid
Old arguments, unfinished forgiveness, and unexpressed pride. Silence feels safe in the moment… it becomes heavy later.

3. Confusing Legacy with Money
People think legacy is about assets and wills. It’s not. Legacy is:
• Stories
• Values
• Voice
• Clarity
• Emotional permission

Money is practical, legacy is personal.

Regret is a teacher

Regret isn’t here to shame you, it’s purely information, and it tells you what matters.

If you feel a pang when you think about:

  • Not having an Advanced Health Directive

  • Not writing letters to your kids

  • Not clarifying your wishes

  • Not repairing a relationship

That feeling isn’t morbid, it’s wisdom, and I hope you listen to that.

You Don’t Have to Wait for a Crisis

Planning your end of life doesn’t mean you’re giving up. It means you care enough to make it easier for the people you love.

It means:
“I don’t want you guessing.”
“I don’t want you fighting.”
“I don’t want you carrying uncertainty.”

That’s not dark, it’s bloody generous.

My question to you…

If something happened tomorrow, what would you regret not doing today?

Start there – that’s your first step.

If you’re ready to move from avoidance to clarity, Dead Honest Club® exists for exactly that.

Because regret is heavy, but preparation? 
That’s peace, baby!

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Anticipatory Grief is a Mindf*ck

Anticipatory Grief is a Mindf*ck

Let’s be real: Grief doesn’t wait until after someone dies to show up.

Sometimes, it creeps in while you’re still booking appointments, still making cups of tea, still watching their chest rise and fall while silently begging it not to stop. That’s anticipatory grief, the heartbreak that hits before the final goodbye.

And if you’re a carer? You’re probably drowning in it while also trying to keep everything else afloat.

So What Is Anticipatory Grief, Anyway?

It’s grief in advance.

You’re mourning what’s to come; the loss of a person, yes, but also the loss of who they were, the life you had, the future you imagined.

You might feel:

  • Numb and detached one minute, painfully emotional the next

  • Angry at the world (or at them, yep, that’s normal too)

  • Guilty for wanting it to be over, and then guilty for feeling guilty

  • Like no one understands because “they’re still alive” and “you should be grateful”

Spoiler: all of that is normal. Anticipatory grief is complex, invisible, and isolating as hell.

If You’re a Carer, You’re Probably Burnt Out and Emotionally Bankrupt.

Let’s talk straight: Caring is holy work, but it’s also hard, unrelenting, unpaid (or underpaid), and emotionally brutal. You’re holding someone else’s pain while your own world quietly cracks underneath you.

And yet? You’re expected to keep showing up. Every. Damn. Day.

So, How Do You Look After You?

Here’s some Dead Honest self-care; not spa-day fluff, but actual life-support stuff.

1. Lower the Bar

Today, success might look like brushing your teeth and sending one email. That’s enough. Let it be enough.

2. Say the Hard Things

Talk to someone. A friend, a therapist, a doula, your cat, whoever listens without fixing. Name the feelings. Rage if you need to. Cry ugly.

3. Make Space for Micro-Moments

You don’t need a weekend away. You need five minutes with the sun on your face. A song that feels like a hug. One good breath.

4. Get Support (and Say Yes to It)

Dead Honest Club isn’t just here for the dying. We’re here for you,  the one doing the quiet labour of love in the background. Book a grief chat. Come to a group. You don’t have to earn it by “falling apart.” Support is for the strong too.

5. Let It Be Messy

There’s no gold star for coping “gracefully.” Scream into a pillow. Leave the dishes. Be human.

You Deserve Support Too.

This grief you’re carrying before the end? It’s real. And it’s valid. Your care matters. And so do you.

You don’t have to be stoic. You don’t have to do it all alone. Reach out. Talk. Breathe. Cry. Laugh at something stupid. Let us walk beside you through the mess.

Need a place to offload?

Book in for a chat, a grief session, or just slide into our inbox with whatever’s on your chest.

We’re not here to fix you.
We’re here to fcking see you.*

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