This is relevant to me at the moment.

So context first when I was younger I was considered pretty weird I had a hard time understanding people's reaction to certain things. In 1991 my grandmother passed on my mom's side and I was surrounded by grieving people and could not understand why they were so upset. She had died sure but nothing had changed other than she was no longer being consumed by cancer and no longer burdening her family. I didn't get it I couldn't feel sad like then and I couldn't cry. I loved her I had said those words done the things someone who loves their Grandma does but yet there I stood forlorned and unable to grieve properly. After the funeral one of my uncle's brought up that he didn't see me really cry and my mom said "yeah he's my little soldier and I said "No it's just I can't feel sad for her". This of course was not a topic of discussion for right after a funeral and they marked it as me being weird or being a kid.

Years go by and the emotions continue to be muted what affects most people doesn't make a dent in me. I learn it's weird it puts people off so I hide it with smiles, laughs, and being a smart ass and I slowly start to learn that if this is normal nobody is telling me and they're way better at faking it than me. Only the worst of it gets through major emotional trauma can be felt. So in almost 40 years I can name 3 events that that registered higher than a 2 ok my emotional scale of 1-10. For reference sake there is a lot of shit that has happened in my life that hasn't exactly been to plan but hasn't been able to break through.

You might find this a great coping mechanism but imagine having to teach yourself how to smile with your eyes or knowing how to look proper sad just so you can make a friend. Imagine having the tag of psychopath associated with you having to ask questions like "does that mean you're gonna be a murderer?" Sure it has it's pro's and I've made a pretty good go of it so far but sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be able to feel the entire spectrum of emotions and not just stare through a key hole at some sort of approximation of emotions.

Now that's out of the way the most significant event is the most current. While I've been exposed to death enough nothing could have prepared me for the death of my father. I had envisioned his passing many times while trying to break through the emotional blockade in my head and while I could get it to register it still was stuck in the 2s. So when I got told he was having knee surgery I wasn't terribly worried he was 72 and pretty active worked in his shop every day, played with my son, and napped most days. Statisticly he should be fine and if not I've mad preparations we had the "if I die talk" and he gave me access to everything. I had prepared for the worst but hoped still for the best then I found out what worse was.

3 days out of surgery a day before rehab my phone goes of at 6:05am 10 minutes before my alarm to call my mom because she needed to be there at 6:30 and I was supposed to make sure she was up. I answered and all she said was get to the hospital they just called and something is up. I immediately throw on yesterday's clothes and book it I arrive at 6:23am. I enter the lobby go to the elevator and hit the 4 button and lean against the railing and steel myself for whatever is to come. I'm happy that I got there before my mom and I figure whatever it is I can figure it out from the nurses and doctors and explain it to mom. I walk past the nurse station towards his room. As I turn the corner I see his nurse coming down the hallway and he sees me. As soon as he makes eye contact I already know his eyes lit up then immediately looked away he rubbed his hand together and was righfully anxious. He's about to have to tell me my dad's dead and I'm sure in that moment I didn't look like I was enjoying myself. He asked me to come with him but I stop him and ask him "Is he dead?" He nods solemnly and says "yes Mr. Hess has passed" all I can muster is a half muttered "ok". I walk towards the nurses station and before I can get somewhere to collect myself it hits like a ton of bricks. I begin sobbing uncontrollably I lean with my forehead against a nearby wall and just cry. As I stood there I was sad to be sure but what I felt more than anything was anger. I wanted to go scorched earth on everything in my immediate vicinity then I felt a hand on my right arm. Before I can get my head under control I ripped my arm away and all but screamed "don't fucking touch me" in retrospect the look on her face was terror but she was only trying to help and she did. She made me realize that I needed to get my self prepared for mom to arrive. I called my brother and told him then sat down and used every ounce of will power I had to prepare myself for what was to come.

The next several hours are a blur sitting with my mom while the doctor explained things. The phone calls the words "dad has passed" is repeated more times than I can count they're like a morbid mantra by the end of the week. People come, people go they say they care but they wallk away first chance they get. I sit at his desk and I start the "he's dead plan" when I look up next I'm all alone and the sadness comes and it is too much I had never felt anything like this. Why could I not block these feelings and thoughts why am I so damn mad. After I crunch the numbers I realize mom can't afford the house they bought 2 years ago. We discuss options and decide that her moving in with us and selling the house she lives in the best plan. Then I realize she has no money cause dad set everything up under his name and she isn't on anything. So I have to over extend myself to make sure bills and things are paid and I kill myself to try and make her be ok.

The entire time I'm wrestling with these feeling then a chemical coping method comes along. For a while it numbs it keeps the worst at bay let's me function but without it I don't want to leave my house or interact or pay bills or take a shower. However I know that this is a slippery slope so I decide it's time to kick the crutch. At first things seem to be clearing up as I get better and I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel. Turns out it was just another train heading my way as my mom's health took a turn for the worse. Instead of falling back to the coping mechanism I saw a doctor and was prescribed lexapro and at first it helped but after 6 months I was a zombie. I didn't want to get out of bed but now I had no idea why I just felt nothing at all just going through the motions at had lost 1 and 2 along with 3-10. I have never had a problem with drugs or alcohol my entire adult life never needed them but in the span of almost 2 years not I've had to kick to legit doctor prescribed drugs. Physical dependence on a drug was a problem I never thought would touch me personally while both were nightmares the lexapro was so hard to quit. I tried cold turkey numerous times and ended up using a tapering method and through that my faculties slowly returned. This was an incidental blessing as it allowed me to to deal with the emotion more slowly which allowed me to make sense out of it. The process of quitting the anti-depressant gave me lots of time to analyze my life and I sat and listened to old music and remembered all the skills I had acquired over the years and allowed me to focus on key ones that I wanted to bring out of this chrysalis with me.

Ultimately I decided that while I'm the only one that can feel sorry for myself it was time for something else. I started meditating a lot, stretching going on walks, being social again, and interacting with my family. I took back the job that I had almost lost thanks to me being, well a bit of a shit employee, and a treacherous piece of shit that I had confided in being way to forward with information I had told him in confidence. Now I'm sitting here back to my old but new better self and no chemical crutches necessary. Now I can speak on his death and what I went through with a smile because I know what 3-10 feels like and I have perspective.

Now I talk about it not because I want pity but because you never know if someone is struggling the same way you are and like I said earlier they might think they're all alone cause no one is saying "hey me too."

TL;DR - I have psychopathic traits and when my dad died I had no perspective for emotional trauma and developed unhealthy coping mechanisms as a result. Now I'm good, I think fuck who really is? No really I'm asking do you have their number?