"Grief usually announces a loss, so when it arrives with no object we assume we invented it. But some absences never had a name, and the body counts them anyway."
If this resonates with you, what follows may help you see something about yourself.
Seeker
This is going to sound stupid. I cried in the car last week over a diaper commercial. A mom holding a baby. I don’t even want kids. And I couldn’t stop for like twenty minutes.
Guide
It doesn’t sound stupid. What was it about the mom holding the baby, do you think?
Seeker
That’s the thing, I don’t know. Nothing happened to me. I wasn’t abused, my parents stayed together, we had money. So what is there to grieve? I feel like I’m mourning something that never actually existed. It makes me feel insane.
Guide
You keep reaching for the event. Like if you could find the bad thing that happened, the crying would be allowed.
Seeker
Well, yes. This is how it works, doesn’t it? You lose something, you grieve it. I didn’t lose anything.
Guide
That’s one kind of grief. There’s another kind I only figured out later, and I’m still not sure I’d have believed it if someone told me flat out. Can I say the thing I’m wondering?
Seeker
Go ahead.
Guide
When you watched that mom, I don’t think you were grieving something you lost. I think you were grieving something you watched somebody else have.
Seeker
That’s a weird thing to say. Nobody took my mom away. She was right there.
Guide
She was there. Was she with you?
Seeker
…I don’t know how to answer that. She fed us, she showed up to things. She was just kind of.. not in the room usually, even when she was in the room. I used to perform being fine so she wouldn’t have to deal with me being not fine.
Guide
That’s a very specific thing to have learned that young. How old, would you guess, when you started doing that?
Seeker
Little. Before I have real memories. I just always knew my job was to not be a problem.
Guide
So here’s what I keep landing on. You can’t picture what never happened. There’s no scene of the day she wasn’t there for you, because it wasn’t a day, it was every day, quietly. That’s why it feels like grieving nothing. It’s not nothing. It just doesn’t have a memory. Strangely, that doesn’t make it not missing.
Seeker
But that feels like an excuse. Like I’m blaming her for something she didn’t do wrong. She did her best.
Guide
I’m not putting her on trial. You can hold that she did her best and still have needed something you didn’t get. Both of those are true at the same time. The grief isn’t an accusation. It’s just your body keeping an honest count.
Seeker
An honest count. That baby was getting looked at. Like, actually looked at. And something in me went, oh, that. That’s what that is.
Guide
Say more about “that’s what that is.”
Seeker
The car thing. It’s not random. I wasn’t crying over a commercial. I was crying because I know exactly what that baby was getting and I can’t remember ever feeling it. Or maybe feeling it enough. And I’ve spent my whole life telling myself that doesn’t count because nobody did anything to me.
Guide
You just named it more cleanly than most people ever do.
Seeker
It’s strange. Saying it out loud, I feel less crazy and worse at the same time.
Guide
That makes a lot of sense. When the grief gets to be about something real, it stops feeling like a malfunction. It just feels like grief.
Seeker
I think I’ve been treating the sadness like a symptom I need to solve. Find the cause, prove it’s not justified, move on. But there’s nothing to solve. There was a thing I needed and didn’t get, and I’m allowed to be sad that it’s gone even though it was never here. I don’t fully believe that yet. But I can feel it’s closer to true than “you’re being dramatic.”
If the sadness you keep trying to explain away is actually accurate, what is it counting that you have never let yourself say you needed?
If you read back the conversation: notice where the guide quietly became the one who knows — naming things, settling them. That feels normal because it happens so often. It's also where your own sense of direction can go quiet. SelfChatter adds a second voice that just makes those moments visible, so the direction stays yours.