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The people who man the phones are trained to believe that you are a lying sack of scum-sucking toilet brisket, and they really don't care what you say if it's not confirming how much you'll pay and when you'll pay it. You could be on fire while you're on the phone and screaming in pain, and a bill collector will just try to work out a system of communication consisting of one shriek for full payment, two shrieks for partial payment.

This is extremely jarring when you first encounter it and apt to be quite upsetting for most of us, because the last thing you need is someone billing a dead loved one for services they no longer require, but few businesses advertise their inability to apply common sense to everyday occurrences, and that's why most of us get blindsided by this douchebaggery when it happens.

But at least you know about it now if you hadn't heard of it before, so if it does happen to you, feel free to tell the assholes you're on the phone with that Felix Clay says they need to secure their own head in their ass and make themselves into a shithead tumbleweed so they can roll on out of the building and never return. Someone I was close to once died in an accident. I found out about it when they were in the hospital.

I had missed any opportunity to see them again, alive, but I wanted to go and be there, for my friends and the family that were present. I never made it there that night because I was stuck at trying to decide how to get ready to go. Should I just go with what I had on? Do you wear a tie? A dress shirt? I had shorts on, did I need long pants? Long pants are respectful. A tie is respectful. But it's not a funeral, not yet. I didn't need to change yet, did I?

Who the fuck spends this much time deciding on a wardrobe?

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An hour had passed. A whole hour, just looking at my collection of novelty T-shirts and colorful silk ties and accomplishing nothing. This didn't even take into account my internal debate about picking up coffee and doughnuts. Nothing I focused on that night meant anything. It was bullshit in the most extreme way, but it's where my mind went. Tiny, pointless details.

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What if I did bring doughnuts -- would people think I was awful for making a stop and not rushing over? But what if they'd been there for hours? They'd be hungry, and I'd be thoughtful. No jelly doughnuts, you can't have red stuff squishing out. Can you eat in a hospital, or is it unsanitary? Boston cream looks like pus, that's horrible. While the potential existed that I had briefly lost my mind and spiraled into a bizarre OCD fit of T-shirts and baked goods, I've noticed since then that this kind of behavior, as much as I can tell from the external behavior of others, is not all that uncommon.

When you're really affected by a death, when it really hits home, you need a distraction, and your brain will run hog wild trying to find one. I once watched my mom, after her own mother's funeral, rearrange sandwiches on a tray about a hundred times, and she wouldn't let me take one because it would mess up the pattern she had made. I stole a few later, but for a while there I was really hungry and it was pretty tragic. I've heard some people get all horny and have sex. It's an odd time in a person's life. Focusing on tiny, pointless details is clearly a coping mechanism.

My friend died and I'm not sad, am I crazy/a bad person/a psychopath : ENFP

It's probably helpful in its way. Don't freak out, and don't second guess doughnuts, because doughnuts are great. You have to acknowledge that as appropriate as tears may be for loss, so too is laughter. Maybe not the actual act of a person dying -- if you find yourself chuckling over car wrecks and leprosy, you may want to seek professional help, because you're a bit of a creepy ghoulie, aren't you?

However, it's worth noting that you don't need to deal with death by becoming an emotional wreck. In times of stress, I become almost unbearably goofy. I enrage others in tense situations due to my tenuous grasp on seriousness that becomes more and more ephemeral the angrier people get with me until the point where I either get hit or have to hit someone else.

Why are we sad when someone dies?

I'm not proud of it, but it happens. I will smile like a drunken Cheshire Cat making it rain at a strip club when the shit hits the fan and have little to no ability to somber up for the sake of maintaining decorum. It's not necessarily that I think it's funny if someone died, or you lost your job, or the city is being locked down due to the presence of mutant isopods -- it's just my natural reaction. I suppose on some level even my writing is an outlet for that, for my desire to make people laugh. I enjoy it, I want to be entertaining on a basic level, and, even when wholly inappropriate, I still try to do it.

Ideally, all of our loved ones, and eventually ourselves, will be together. This seems more than likely, because how many places could they go? Many people consider my lack of tears a lack of grieving. I have been grieving the loss of my grandfather for over seven years now. He was not the same man after my grandmother got sick and died, and watching him go through that was worse than anything that death could involve—I watched his heartbreak.

On that note, now I can only feel relief. I have been preparing myself for this time, and on numerous occasions, I thought, "This is it. Now, just because I am not sad doesn't mean others don't have the right to be. I understand that many people need their time to grieve and be sad, which is perfectly okay.

Not everyone is going to be okay one hundred percent of the time. What is important, however, is making sure that we are there to support them through the tough times so that they will be ready for happy times to come once again. People react to loss in many different ways, which in many cases are expressly unique to them. We cannot continue expecting people to feel a certain way, especially when they may be repressing their true thoughts.

The emotional numbness sometimes experienced in grief can feel especially disturbing because after a death you expect to feel so much. Or a robot?!? Give it a read, and maybe check out the rest of the site as well. At all. No other emotions. It grieving… My grandfather is about to die and I literally feel nothing.

I know he is dying.


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I knew he was going to die- well… sort of. Sounds familiar my grandparent died unexpedtly last month and when my mom called me and told me i felt nothing i was actually trying to sound sad over the phone but that was about it. Even at the wake and funeral i didnt cry or feel sad i just relfected upon the awesome shit my grandfather had done with his life and i felt happy for him.

I feel the exact same way Soletchka. Same thing here. I still try so hard to feel sad or anything but i just feel nothing. Am i a cold parson …………….. I know how you feel.. My mother died and I was not even mentioned as one of the surviving children. I read about it online, as I am the black sheep of the family and did everything I could to help my parents, but I was always the outcast.


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