Latest on Brandy

Karen Chuplis wrote:

Some people do think just that. Like it will help or something. Or
that it's not healthy and you are bottling it up. It's called,
"let's deal with it".

Yeah, sure. As though:

(1) They know what you need to do to get through this situation.

(2) They know for a fact that you are always bottling up your
feelings. How do they know you don't confide in people you trust
(ie, not them)?

You are great just how you are

No kidding! You get to deal with grief, anxiety, stress, etc, in whatever
way works best for you. Nobody has the right to try to tell you how you
should feel or how you should express those feelings.

Joyce

Karen Chuplis wrote:

Some people do think just that. Like it will help or something. Or
that it's not healthy and you are bottling it up. It's called,
"let's deal with it".

Yeah, sure. As though:

(1) They know what you need to do to get through this situation.

(2) They know for a fact that you are always bottling up your
feelings. How do they know you don't confide in people you trust
(ie, not them)?

You are great just how you are

No kidding! You get to deal with grief, anxiety, stress, etc, in whatever
way works best for you. Nobody has the right to try to tell you how you
should feel or how you should express those feelings.

Joyce

In article ,
wrote:

Karen Chuplis wrote:

Some people do think just that. Like it will help or something. Or
that it's not healthy and you are bottling it up. It's called,
"let's deal with it".

Yeah, sure. As though:

(1) They know what you need to do to get through this situation.

(2) They know for a fact that you are always bottling up your
feelings. How do they know you don't confide in people you trust
(ie, not them)?

You are great just how you are

No kidding! You get to deal with grief, anxiety, stress, etc, in whatever
way works best for you. Nobody has the right to try to tell you how you
should feel or how you should express those feelings.

These are tend to be the same people that see somebody delicately trying
to keep their balance on a slippery surface, and break their
concentration by yelling "BE CAREFUL!"

A cat, mind you, will simply demonstrate how to get across the surface.

In article ,
wrote:

Karen Chuplis wrote:

Some people do think just that. Like it will help or something. Or
that it's not healthy and you are bottling it up. It's called,
"let's deal with it".

Yeah, sure. As though:

(1) They know what you need to do to get through this situation.

(2) They know for a fact that you are always bottling up your
feelings. How do they know you don't confide in people you trust
(ie, not them)?

You are great just how you are

No kidding! You get to deal with grief, anxiety, stress, etc, in whatever
way works best for you. Nobody has the right to try to tell you how you
should feel or how you should express those feelings.

These are tend to be the same people that see somebody delicately trying
to keep their balance on a slippery surface, and break their
concentration by yelling "BE CAREFUL!"

A cat, mind you, will simply demonstrate how to get across the surface.

In article ,
wrote:

Karen Chuplis wrote:

Some people do think just that. Like it will help or something. Or
that it's not healthy and you are bottling it up. It's called,
"let's deal with it".

Yeah, sure. As though:

(1) They know what you need to do to get through this situation.

(2) They know for a fact that you are always bottling up your
feelings. How do they know you don't confide in people you trust
(ie, not them)?

You are great just how you are

No kidding! You get to deal with grief, anxiety, stress, etc, in whatever
way works best for you. Nobody has the right to try to tell you how you
should feel or how you should express those feelings.

These are tend to be the same people that see somebody delicately trying
to keep their balance on a slippery surface, and break their
concentration by yelling "BE CAREFUL!"

A cat, mind you, will simply demonstrate how to get across the surface.

"Tanada" wrote in message
ink.net...


wrote:


Oy - they were telling you how to *feel*??

Somebody always has an agenda. If you're calm, someone will think you're
unemotional. If you're upset, someone else will say you're hysterical
and can't be trusted to make important decisions. Sounds like your
response was quite reasonable to me, and probably a big relief to your
mother, who was no doubt dreading a bad reaction from you.


Some of our relatives had a fit because I was "too calm" about Rob being
sent to Desert Shield/Storm I. I guess I was supposed to have
hysterics, scream, throw a hissy fit, and go to Saudi Arabia to get him
out. Now they think I'm "too calm" about Rob's cancer. These are some
of the same people that treat us like we're poisonous. Sigh.

You struck a nerve with that one. My younger daughter has asthma, so do I.
One thing you absolutely positively have to do when dealing with a child who
is having an asthma attack is stay calm. Not easy when you are having a
pretty good attach yourself and the both of you are already on steroids.

I still bristle when I remember my mother-in-law screaming at me while I was
getting things gathered up to leave for the hospital for an emergency
admission with my daughter. I just wasn't acting excited enough about the
whole thing to suit her.

Jo

"Tanada" wrote in message
ink.net...


wrote:


Oy - they were telling you how to *feel*??

Somebody always has an agenda. If you're calm, someone will think you're
unemotional. If you're upset, someone else will say you're hysterical
and can't be trusted to make important decisions. Sounds like your
response was quite reasonable to me, and probably a big relief to your
mother, who was no doubt dreading a bad reaction from you.


Some of our relatives had a fit because I was "too calm" about Rob being
sent to Desert Shield/Storm I. I guess I was supposed to have
hysterics, scream, throw a hissy fit, and go to Saudi Arabia to get him
out. Now they think I'm "too calm" about Rob's cancer. These are some
of the same people that treat us like we're poisonous. Sigh.

You struck a nerve with that one. My younger daughter has asthma, so do I.
One thing you absolutely positively have to do when dealing with a child who
is having an asthma attack is stay calm. Not easy when you are having a
pretty good attach yourself and the both of you are already on steroids.

I still bristle when I remember my mother-in-law screaming at me while I was
getting things gathered up to leave for the hospital for an emergency
admission with my daughter. I just wasn't acting excited enough about the
whole thing to suit her.

Jo

"Tanada" wrote in message
ink.net...


wrote:


Oy - they were telling you how to *feel*??

Somebody always has an agenda. If you're calm, someone will think you're
unemotional. If you're upset, someone else will say you're hysterical
and can't be trusted to make important decisions. Sounds like your
response was quite reasonable to me, and probably a big relief to your
mother, who was no doubt dreading a bad reaction from you.


Some of our relatives had a fit because I was "too calm" about Rob being
sent to Desert Shield/Storm I. I guess I was supposed to have
hysterics, scream, throw a hissy fit, and go to Saudi Arabia to get him
out. Now they think I'm "too calm" about Rob's cancer. These are some
of the same people that treat us like we're poisonous. Sigh.

You struck a nerve with that one. My younger daughter has asthma, so do I.
One thing you absolutely positively have to do when dealing with a child who
is having an asthma attack is stay calm. Not easy when you are having a
pretty good attach yourself and the both of you are already on steroids.

I still bristle when I remember my mother-in-law screaming at me while I was
getting things gathered up to leave for the hospital for an emergency
admission with my daughter. I just wasn't acting excited enough about the
whole thing to suit her.

Jo

In the fine newsgroup "rec.pets.cats.anecdotes", Tanada
artfully composed this message within
link.net on 23
Aug 2004:

It is amazing how many people are made totally uncomfortable by
cancer. I'm not sure if it's because they think it's catching,
the operation scars can be ugly

Pam, in my experience of having lost my son, people in general
don't like to talk about horrifying things (to them) because either
they don't know what to say, or they don't want to upset you. I
read a poem on alt.support.grief that fit me totally, and it helps
to understand both why people don't say what you expect them to
say, and why we react when they either do or don't say something.
I'm going to post it, but I don't expect many to understand it.


You Can't Win With Me

by Jane Warland~1996

If you say to me,
"How are you doing?,"
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 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 son 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, "It's 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 realizing 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 son 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 of this happened.
But I know it's impossible.
That carefree, naive
person is gone forever,
And I am mourning that loss too.

So you can't win with me.



I printed this and posted it on my bulletin board in my office and
so far no one has read it/made a comment. But I hoped that if they
did, they would understand me better because this fits how I feel.
--
Cheryl
/dangit, now I have mascara in my eyes and I cant see

In the fine newsgroup "rec.pets.cats.anecdotes", Tanada
artfully composed this message within
link.net on 23
Aug 2004:

It is amazing how many people are made totally uncomfortable by
cancer. I'm not sure if it's because they think it's catching,
the operation scars can be ugly

Pam, in my experience of having lost my son, people in general
don't like to talk about horrifying things (to them) because either
they don't know what to say, or they don't want to upset you. I
read a poem on alt.support.grief that fit me totally, and it helps
to understand both why people don't say what you expect them to
say, and why we react when they either do or don't say something.
I'm going to post it, but I don't expect many to understand it.


You Can't Win With Me

by Jane Warland~1996

If you say to me,
"How are you doing?,"
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 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 son 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, "It's 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 realizing 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 son 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 of this happened.
But I know it's impossible.
That carefree, naive
person is gone forever,
And I am mourning that loss too.

So you can't win with me.



I printed this and posted it on my bulletin board in my office and
so far no one has read it/made a comment. But I hoped that if they
did, they would understand me better because this fits how I feel.
--
Cheryl
/dangit, now I have mascara in my eyes and I cant see