Don’t tell me not to cry.
I’ve spent my whole day, my whole week not crying.
I can’t cry in front of my son.
I can’t cry at work.
I can’t cry in public.
I’m pretty sure my wife takes enough.
So if you are one of the ones the tears come crashing down around, please do not tell me not to cry.
I know it’s instinctive, but don’t.
Ask me what’s going on in my head.
Even though the answer may be “everything”.
Ask me what you can do to help.
Even though the answer may be “nothing”.
Don’t tell me what to do and what to try.
You can’t possibly know how hard I try, and how much I blame myself.
I’m my worst judge, my own harshest jury.
The last thing I need is one more judgmental sentence to wrack around in my brain.
Don’t forget, when I’m done letting it all out, I have to pick myself back up and get on with the show.
So take a moment, let me feel the feels, and maybe help me plug it all back up again for another day.