My grandmother's death traumatized me

Long post, but I really, really would appreciate anyone who can give me some real advice.

My(22f) grandmother died in February in 2025. She was 86 years old and by the end of it, she was completely senile. My mother and I were both working while she was mostly home alone which terrified us because she smoked cigarettes and the possibility of her falling asleep and burning the house down while we were not around was a constant for us. Luckily, it never happened, but the stress was insane. We spend quite a few months taking care of her after she could no longer do anything by herself, she could also barely get up so we made her bedroom into an 'everything room'. She had her own bathroom, and we added some things that some of our family donated. I.e. Mini fridge, microwave, kettle etc... that we set up in her room.

Besides her death, and before she became what she was, she had always been a difficult person. So for years, it was hard for my mom(56) and I while always taking care of her. She really traumatized my mom her whole life and as she grew older, the less she did, which was not much to begin with. She was a very strange person, people liked her from the outside but it was very different from the inside. She dismissed my mother a lot, very emotionally abusive to my mom her whole life -my mother is also bipolar and she would say the worst things about my mom when she would have an episode- She didn't do anything, she was a very dirty person, she didn't have any friends, she was a hoarder, she had no hobbies or ever left the house. She would maybe sometimes go outside to smoke but that's about it. Safe to say that I don't need to get into how difficult it was to live with her. A side note, this wasn't in old age, she had been like that her whole life.

I took care of her with zero feelings, it was hard to be in a room alone with her. She always made me very uncomfortable. I still did my job, I did everything I had to do to take care of her before and after work. The truth was, I hated it. I never expressed that to her, but I did. I know my mom did too.

She died the day I quit my job (I was going to look after her full time at that point). Two weeks before, we had to take her to the hospital because of severe stomach pain & bloating, and my country's public hospitals are terrible (she didn't want to go, and she said that people go there to die) Anyways, we were there for hours, they were actually really good with her. I can't remember what they did but they told us that she shouldn't leave, but my gran refused to stay and wanted to go home. So we signed some stuff and left.

Those two weeks were the worst weeks of my life. When she came home from the hospital the first time, she was completely incontinent and had accidentally made in the uber and all over the seat and her clothes. My mom and I had to shower her while I was cleaning the bathroom because there was poop everywhere. The steam in the bathroom did not help, and it did not help when she continued pooping in the bath.

The nappies did not really help, we tried really hard but there was always some that got on the sheets and her clothes. For the most part, my mom did that, helping her wear them, which I quietly thank her for protecting me as much as she could from having to deal with the worst.

My last day of work, we finished counting stock and my mother rang me to tell me that she wasn't going to make it. I left work and went straight to the hospital (there went there for a checkup that ended in her dying.) Her organs failed, that was probably the reason why she kept on shitting herself with no control the whole time. By the time I got there, they had revived her and put her in a coma so the family could say goodbye.

I never liked her, hell I didn't love her either, but I had never cried so much in my life. The hospital was severely overcrowded and extremely hot. There was dried blood on the curtains around us and people on the outside kept bumping into us. Not to mention the one guy on drugs that kept shitting himself on the gurney(drugs?)

I remember how cold she was when I touched her hand. Her skin was blue and purple too. They had also put her on manual breathing with her mouth wide open and her tongue would stick out every time she took a 'breath'. It was awful. My mother had sent me home about three hours before she flatlined. My mother stayed with some of the family when I went home. I had to tell my brother as he got home from boarding school as well.

I have never really experienced death so close to myself, and so violent and disgusting as well. Thankfully, the dreams have stopped, but I think about it too much and it makes me feel like I will never get over this. I really don't know what to do. I need help. I have many intrusive thoughts about death and I panic about myself or any of the people I love in my life dying like that. Especially my own mother. Not even old age, I think about her dying all the time at any time. I get freaked out when she leaves the house, I get freaked out when she coughs. It can be anything.

I don't know what to do about these constant thoughts of my mother/family/me dying. Brutal or non-brutal. Even as I am typing this, I am starting to freak out. I need it to stop, I can't take it anymore. I don't deserve this constant anxiety and inner turmoil. Besides thoughts of death, the memory of my grandmother. Also horrible. The images in my mind are extremely vivid and thinking about her and the experience just comes randomly.

Life handed me a pretty shit hand my entire existence, which I have been working through... but this was... I don't even know what to say. It was the most recent I suppose. I need help getting over this. Please, if anyone has any advice, I don't know what to do. I really need help.