I have a problem. Part of me wants to tell you about it. Part of me is screaming to be heard and understood because my pain is great. But another part of me had rather keep it to myself. I don't want to share my grief with you because I am afraid of what you will say or how you will act.
I am afraid that you will feel sorry for me, and treat me like some "poor thing." That response makes me feel pathetic. I am not weak and useless; I have experienced a very tragic loss, and I am bruised and hurting.
I am afraid you will try to cheer me up. You will tell me in some subtle way to stop feeling bad, and I will hide behind my smile. But inwardly, I will feel worse and regret I have even tried to talk to you.
I am afraid you will give me an answer--quote some text of scripture or make some high- sounding pronouncement that belittles the depth of my struggles and my anguish. I am afraid you will ignore my problem. You will change the subject, talk about your own problems, tell me how bad someone else has it, or make some excuse and leave.
What I'd really like is for you to listen to me as I begin blundering through my kaleidoscope of feelings--my memories, my regrets, my anger, my gratitude, my loneliness, and my confusion. I need you to be patient for I may need to tell my story over and over again so that I can hear it and begin believing it.
What I'd really like is for you to say a word or make a motion that says, "I am with you." I don't need you to "fix" me or change me; I need you to make it safe for me to grieve.
Maybe this little poem I found will help you walk with me:
Don't tell me that you understand, Don't tell me that you know. Don't tell me that I will survive, How I will surely grow.
Don't tell me this is just a test, That I am truly blessed, That I am chosen for this task, Apart from all the rest.
Don't come at me with answers That can only come from me, Don't tell me how my grief will pass That I will soon be free.
Don't stand in pious judgment Of bonds I must untie, Don't tell me how to suffer, Don't tell me how to cry.
My life is filled with selfishness, My pain is all I see, But I need you, I need your love, Unconditionally.
Accept me in my ups and downs, I need someone to share, Just hold my hand and let me cry, And say, 'My friend, I care.'
Lovingly,
Jose
Your Bereaved Friend
