I ran and blocked my colleagues' numbers

I have relatives in Ukraine, friends. Some of them cut off contact with me, even though I didn’t do anything to them.

In April, I had a nervous breakdown and a suicide attempt. Everything went off the rails in all areas of my life at once. So many things affecting people close to me, and I can’t help with any of it.

It feels like Putin has a list of my plans, and he’s slowly checking off boxes for where to mess things up for me. As soon as I have an idea or a plan, as soon as a business starts taking shape, something happens again.

The day the mobilization was announced, other female employees [at the post office]: “Oh, they announced a mobilization. Oh, what is it, what’s going on?” These are people who read “Argumenty i Fakty” and “Moskovsky Komsomolets.”

I delivered those newspapers and read the headlines — it’s absolute madness. People watch Channel One, watch Solovyov and believe him. I’d say something to them, but it’s useless — the response: “let them go kill the nationalists,” “let them fight NATO.”

The people who work at the post office couldn’t care less about anything. They’re in their comfort zone. Some have been working there for twenty years.

These are embittered women working 16–17 hours because there aren’t enough people — everyone keeps quitting. One guy came in for training, and by day seven a female employee was beating him with newspapers.

Women who are 70 years old work as mail carriers, night operators, and cleaners. The roof leaks, it’s either freezing or boiling. Maybe that kind of madness only happened at my branch — I don’t know.

The boss is an apathetic guy, about 37–40. He couldn’t care less what’s happening in his team. The only thing that matters to him is that his district meets its quota.

To meet the quota, employees have to buy the post office’s products themselves. Because nobody buys them there — it’s cheaper to walk to a store. I refused right away — you end up paying more than you earn. But because I refused, the entire department’s chance of getting a bonus dropped, and they started viciously bullying me.

When the mobilization was announced, I panicked. My husband fits category A — he served in the engineering corps, then in the marines. According to his military ID, he’s a driver.

I couldn’t do anything, couldn’t really work. The boss said: “What happened to you?” And I: “Do you see what’s happening in the country?” But he doesn’t care. He’s got a large family, and besides, all post office employees have a deferment.

[Actually, ] draft summonses started appearing at the post office even before the official mobilization announcement.

And it wasn’t draft season — it started in the summer. Supposedly we were inviting the person to the commissariat to verify their information. But I’d leave them at the post office and never delivered them.

[After the mobilization was announced, ] I came to work, and there was a note on every mail carrier’s desk. According to it, we were now required to deliver draft summonses that arrived from the commissariats.

There were a lot of summonses — including for women. The mail carriers were also told: “If you weren’t able to deliver a summons, you’ll need to come back to that apartment later.” I didn’t deliver a single one.

The mail carriers weren’t exactly thrilled. But there were no debates — they said: “What are we supposed to do? We were told to deliver them, so we will.” Everyone there supports what Putin does. The only thing they didn’t support was the pension age extension, but [in the end]: “whatever, we can live with it.”

I’d tell them: “They’re already sending prisoners to war — our army looks absolutely ridiculous.” And one woman started: “What, are convicts not people? My son is in prison. They might take him and send him.” — “And what will you do?” — “Nothing.”

I didn’t have thoughts of looking for a summons addressed to my husband and throwing it away if I found one. He’s registered at a different address, and it’s not my route. But the female employees did look for their relatives': they found a summons for one woman’s son. I don’t know what she did, but she’s the pro-Russian type. So her son almost certainly went.

I delivered the pensions, and then I was supposed to deliver the summonses. It all happened in the moment: I grabbed my bag, gathered my things, and said: “I’ll go have a smoke.” I stepped out, called my husband, and said: “I think I’m about to quit.” He says: “Yes, write a resignation — I’ve been telling you this for ages.” “No, I’m just leaving right now. I can’t do it anymore.” “Are you sure?” “I literally don’t care.”

I literally ran. And simultaneously blocked all my bosses' and colleagues' numbers on WhatsApp and my phone.

My employment record book is still at the post office. But I don’t really need it — I work as a self-employed freelancer. A few days later, colleagues managed to reach me from an unknown number, but I declined the call and blocked it. I’m surprised: they actually sent me some money [for the month I worked].

On top of everything, I’m terrified that an iron curtain will come down. Being stuck in Russia for me means I did something truly awful in a past life.

I was posting anti-war content until the very end, until my husband told me that we’re planning to leave and I’d better stop for now. We’d been planning to leave since the start of the war, but the mobilization severely wrecked our plans.

I have a share in an old apartment inherited from relatives. We planned to sell that share and leave. But with the mobilization, people started fleeing — nobody needs that apartment now.

We have a child, he’s in third grade, and they’ve introduced “conversations about important things.” I wrote that my child won’t be attending Monday first-period classes for family reasons.

The compulsory homeroom session under the banner “I Am a Citizen of Russia” is enough for me. I don’t want this propaganda in a child’s brain. I explain everything about the war to my son — he’s against it and declares it loudly everywhere.

We told him not to talk about it at school. Because some of the parents are also unhinged.

We’ll leave no matter what. I’ll put all my effort into it — if only because I don’t want my child being indoctrinated with all of this.