When colleagues don't know what to say

People at work will say the wrong thing. It's not a matter of if — it's when, and how often, and how badly.

They'll say "I know how you feel" (they don't). They'll say "at least they're not suffering anymore" (you might want to throw something). They'll say "you're so brave" as if coming to work is an act of heroism rather than financial necessity.

Or they'll say nothing at all. They'll look away when you walk past. They'll change the subject when someone mentions your name. They'll send emails instead of coming to your desk because they literally cannot figure out how to talk to you.

Here's what's happening: they're scared. Not of you — of grief. Of saying the wrong thing. Of making you cry. Of being confronted with the reality that someone can die by suicide and it can happen to anyone. Their awkwardness isn't about you. It's about their own fear and inadequacy.

That doesn't make it hurt less. Understanding why someone crosses the hallway to avoid you doesn't fix the sting of being avoided. But it can shift it from "something is wrong with me" to "something is hard for them."

The people who get it right are usually the ones who say the simplest thing. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say, but I'm here." That's it. That's the whole script. The people who try too hard — the platitudes, the spiritual reassurances, the unsolicited advice — are the ones who cause the most damage.

You don't owe anyone a gracious response to a bad platitude. You can say "thank you" and walk away. You can say "I'd rather not talk about it at work." You can say nothing at all. Managing your colleagues' discomfort is not your job right now.