The Definition of Insanity

Everything Went To The Dogs

May 12, 2020

Alright so today’s entry is more personal and less light hearted then a bloody funeral, so if that is not your delicious cup of tea then my friends, I suggest you slip out the back. Now that that is done, why don’t we start eh?

Last night I received a text from Kat that basically told me she couldn’t do it anymore; where it meant our friendship and anything beyond that. She told me she’d try again when she is better. So without getting that much into it, I left her a voicemail, counting on the fact that her voicemail is always set up and never full, and one text in reply. I told her I’d wait as long as she needed, or never if that’s what she thinks is best.

The thing about it though isn’t the text itself. It’s that I didn’t care. I had no emotion towards it; towards my best friend basically telling me she was leaving. I know she’ll come back, depression can’t keep her down, but still. I should have felt something, whether it be sadness or empathy, but not emptiness.

Which brings me to this other topic. My grandmother, my mother’s mom, fell recently. She is now bed bound and considering she already has a hard time walking, won’t be doing much. And that means my older brother will be coming back to my mother’s; and that itself brings a whole case of other problems.

My brother is only a few years older than me, so if he didn’t have what he has and COVID wasn’t here, he would be off at college soon. Except, COVID is here and he does have problems. He has Aspergers as well as IED, which is a neurological disorder that affects how he reacts to things, but in worse ways than Aspergers. Now, he is still wicked smart, just sucks with his emotions sometimes

He’s just as normal as you and I, he just needs certain things we don’t. Ugh, I hate the word normal. It stems from fear; the notion that because a person is not like us, they must be weird. Ergo, normal is utter bull crap. But I digress. Things will be different once he gets here, and that’s the part I hate.

See, the only thing I can focus on is him being back. My mind glosses over the fact that my grandmother is hurt and if this is when death comes to collect her, I will not have gotten to say my goodbyes. No, it doesn’t see that as a problem. It is just a fact, something that will happen and not worth getting upset over. This is why I loathe my response to things. I didn’t get upset over Kat, or my family member being hurt, instead, I just accepted it.

I am numb, yet, I can’t seem to figure out how to come out of it. Because not caring means I don’t have to cry over them, it means I don’t have to do anything but look at the logistics, and eventually, come out unscathed.

But if it is keeping me from breaking, is it all bad?