   I Am So Tired... I am tired of being depressed. I am tired of longing for my child. I am tired of not being happy. I am tired of telling people that my son is dead. I am tired of my son being dead. I am tired of not being able to remember what joy feels like. I am tired of being angry. I am tired of feeling guilty. I am tired of missing my son. I am tired of being told that it is a blessing to have an angel in heaven. I am tired of being misunderstood. I am tired of having to explain myself when I am depressed. Again, I am tired of being depressed. I am so tired of death. I am tired of grieving. I am tired of grief. I am tired of asking why. I am tired of not getting an answer. I am tired of having to learn to live without my son. I am tired of being indirectly told to "get over it". I am tired of re-living the morning of my son's death over and over, complete with tears and emotional upheaval. I am sooooooooo tired of not being able to remember...every moment of his life. I am tired of being tired.
Author Unknown You Can't Win With Me by Jane Warland~1996 "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. 
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