You can't win with me

If you say to me " How are you going?" with such sympathy and meaning in your voice.
I reply "I'm fine" and brush you off,
because to talk about my loss with you today is just too painful.

If you see me and don't mention the loss that is consuming my thoughts,
I think you don't care enough, or are too scared to mention it
for fear that you might upset me.
You can't win with me.

If you say "I'm sorry your baby died," it is hard for me to reply to that.
What do you expect me to say?
I want to say "I'm sorry too!" or "It's awful"
I want to scream "its not fair"
But I won't because I don't want to upset myself today, not in front of you.

So I reply "Thank-you".

That thanks means so much more than that.
It means thanks for caring, thanks for trying to help, thanks for realising that I'm still in pain.

If you don't know what to say to me that's okay because I don't know what to say to you either.
If you see me smile or laugh don't assume I must have forgotten my baby for the moment,
I haven't, I can't, I never will.

Tell me that I look good today.
I will know what you mean
I'm getting good at picking up unspoken cues from you.
If you see me and think I look upset or sad, you are probably right.
Today might be an anniversary day for me,
or some event might have triggered a wave of grief in me.

If you don't say anything I'll think you don't care about me,
but if you do say something, it might make me feel worse.
You could try asking if I want to talk, but don't be surprised if I say no.
You can't win with me.

Don't give up on me, please don't give up.
I need your attempts however feeble, however trite you might feel they are
I need your thoughts.
I need your prayers.
I need your love.
I need your persistence.

I need all that but most of all I need to be treated normally,
like it used to be before all this happened.

But I know its impossible.
That carefree, naive person is gone forever,
and I am mourning that loss too.
So you can't win with me.

Written by Jane Warland 1996