I was an asshole, but so were they
My grandma died today. My last grandparent. I never got to interact with her as much as I wanted to because I we were oceans apart since I was little, and Moscow's fucking internet crackdown made even Telegram calls unfeasible.
I found out on the family chat. In the middle of the fucking work day. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that? It wasn't like I could leave - I don't get paid if I'm not there, and I'm not exactly big on savings. I couldn't step away either, not for long anyways. I couldn't afford to break down there.
I was already upset by the news, but the fact that they just had to tell me right in the middle of the fucking work day, when I couldn't afford to get emotional just made it worse, and since I couldn't afford to grieve, I got angry. I snapped in the family chat, let them know that I didn't appreciate such news in this situation.
It was cruel, I know, but so was telling me when all I could do was bottle it up. I had two hours left on the shift. I've had to do this before, and I hated that I had to.
That message got deleted. No nothing, just gone. That just felt like twisting the knife. I tore into them, explaining how fucking inconsiderate dropping this on me when I still had to get through the work day and get home was.
Of course that also got deleted, and I got a dm from my dad, telling me to stop posting in the family chat. No "I get you're hurting, but can you please not?" no offer to talk, nothing. Just a demand that I shut up.
I remembered then why I'd come to be good at bottling up and hiding my feelings. My feelings were an inconvenience ever since I was 8, when my brother was born, and they were just too fucking tired to give a shit about my emotional well being. Why the fuck was I expecting anything else at this point?
I told him how that callousness hurt. I gave him several minutes to say something, anything. Nothing came. So I blocked him. I muted the family chat. I sucked it up best I could and went on with my day.
Someone noticed me coping, asked what was wrong. Gave me a hug. Brought me some chocolate. This person who barely knows me showed me more concern than my own fucking father. That small act of kindness that I could not expect from my own family broke me for a moment.
Oh I'm sure he's comforting my mother. He's always had time for her emotional needs when I was lucky to just be an afterthought.
I made it through the day. I barely managed to make it to my car before breaking down. I broke down again when I got home.
I've muted my phone, got a beer - she'd hate that, but it helps - I don't deal with strong emotions well on my own. I'm not answering any communication attempts, any invitations. I will wall off in my own apartment and tend to my own emotional wellbeing myself, because I need it too. I will drink my beer, I will cuddle with my pets, I will watch a goofy show where people care about one another with my friend, because my feelings are valid too, damn it. I'm fucking done looking for compassion from a man with the emotional intelligence of a rock.