Idk, I find it intensely uncomfortable to be 'known' or anyone to know details that could elicit pity- because pity is an ugly emotion to me: not love, not empathy, not- what's the word?- respectable? Useful? So self-pity is- :wtf:.
But, by the same token, no one can escape grief, even one's self grieving for others.
I might be wrong but I believe grief is about loss, and like
@Neverthesame said the re-living is not intentional but inevitable with ptsd. So I see no point in feeding either, because the grief never leaves, like the repetitive feeling after the same nightmare over and over.
But just as equally, I see others' battles
all as greater than my own; that they deserve the empathy or support I do not. Especially if their concerns are in the present and mine are not. So even struggles, albeit non-intentional, fill me with guilt: eg, struggle with SI, people are struggling to live. Granted I do help people struggling to live, but I wish I could change places with them. Especially if they are of value or valuable/ loved/ needed by others and I am not. 'What' (rather than even who) am I to reveal past or present struggles or losses or experiences to others, or think of them in that way even to myself.
And guilt if they are suffering if I am not, or guilt my sufferings are not worth empathy as others' are (their's are profound, mine are irrelevant).
I suppose I feel expendable so any trial seems unworthy of grief, and any trial survived seems unworthy of empathy, that I caused it myself. Or it doesn't matter.
I also feel like @frieda my heart cannot bear the pain of acknowledging more sorrow. But no, it never feels justified. I feel like I am just deficient, heart-wise. Weak doesn't begin to describe it.
Yikes, -long winded I'm sorry. Idk the answer. I'm sorry if that doesn't make good sense.