15 tcf.org.uk COMPASSION | FEATURE: IF IT WAS ME If it was me… Shared by Marie Innes “You are so brave” …“you are an inspiration” ... “If it was me, I wouldn’t be able to go on… I couldn’t even get out of bed.” I’m sure their intentions are good – they seem to be in awe of my ‘strength.’ But I feel a stab of guilt every time I hear these words. Am I not grieving enough? Should I be sadder? I am sad all of the time! But of course, they don’t know that – they don’t see what’s underneath the mask I wear. They don’t feel the ache I feel inside me even when I am outwardly smiling. The constant awareness that a huge part of me is missing and missed beyond anything I could describe. So, I don’t even try. They don’t know that my body forces me to keep moving. Others need me. So, I get up and out because I must. But I feel hopeless, anxious, overwhelmed…not brave or strong and certainly not inspirational. They are not there when I walk, alone, for miles, sobbing like I will never stop before I pull myself together enough to face the rest of the day and the ‘normal’ world. The world that I know I will never again be a part of. I am truly glad for them that they will never have to feel this way. That they will never be the one for whom others cannot find the words. To know that people have seen you but pretend not to – busy themselves with an imaginary task or cross the street in a hurry. Because to speak to you is just too difficult. Others stop to speak but choose not to acknowledge how my life, my whole being, has been devastated by my loss - because what could they say? Maybe they think they are helping me by not mentioning him -it might help me move on, get back to my old life? Or are they worried that saying his name may cause me to break down, become distressed. And then what would they do? Easiest to just pretend he never existed. If only they knew how this breaks my heart even more than it has been already - if that is even possible. So, I choose to surround myself with those who have never been afraid - of saying his name, of my tears, my rollercoaster emotions. Those who don’t try to find the right words because they know there are none. Those who don’t try to fix it for me – they know nothing ever will. They are just there. And they listen. They are the brave ones…for they had a choice.
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