Hm. When my Grandmother died a few years ago, I cried for days.
Nothing else has quite moved me since then.
I remember hate and disgust for the way certain employees at the jobcenter treat people. Punctuality apparently is an important thing in Germany, a basic courtesy. Which seems to not be necessary if you're dealing with the the lowly unemployed though.
I remember hate and disgust for someone skipping line at the checkout in a shop. Them avoiding my gaze, or, if spoken to, justifiying their actions with some weird, self-serving bullshit logic.
And I remember adrenalin-fuelled, brief rushes of extreme satisfaction, culminating in a cry of victory and a face that felt like an ugly mask when unexpectedly besting opponents in War Thunder.
Disgust, hatred and the satisfaction of, what amounts to, the destruction of somebody else. Everything else doesn't seem to call any interrupts in my head.
When I'm not tanking with a friend, I try going outside more often to find places where there's no people around. Just my old camera and nature. That's something I can take home with me to remind me that there's other stuff to feel than just rage. Maybe the feels come back, it's worth trying. A mossy patch on a fallen, dead tree is so much more acceptable company than most people.
