I'm don't really grieve, is something wrong with me

This isn't really lgbtq+ related, and this is probably more mental health than physical or sexual, but I don't really know where to go, because I meant to ask my counselor about it but didn't really know how to bring it up.

So long story short, beginning of June, my foster brother who had been with us for about 3 years (he is three and a half) ended up having to go to a different family because he was part Native American and my family's white and because of ICWA (Indian Child Welfare Act) laws he had to be placed in another family. Again, it's a long complicated story. So the thing is the hearing was in my last week of school (right before finals, whoop-dee-doo anxiety) on June 4, and the judge said he had to go to the other family because of ICWA laws. My younger sister and I left for a two week camp on the 9th, the 10th was my littler sister's 10th birthday, and he left on the 11th. (Also, this is around the time the dysphoria started to get really bad where I couldn't ignore it anymore, and when I came out to my friends/accepted myself).

But I was over it in less than two weeks. I only like really cried once, when I was explaining it to my teachers in an email, but other than that I didn't really cry. I teared up saying good bye to him before camp, the day he left (like that night at camp when I was thinking about it), and then on the family visit day. I feel awful though, because like I said, in not even two weeks I had just accepted the fact that my brother was gone. When my parents would talk to me about my brother I would say I'm fine. Once when my mom was talking to me about it though, she said "it's okay to feel sad about it" and I said "I know" and she said something along the lines of "in fact if you don't feel anything that's not normal" and that just deepened my worries that something's wrong with me.

I've also reacted similarly when (another long story) my dad went to the hospital. When my mom told me he's in the hospital I was just like "ok." The first major time (over Halloween) the thing I was most worried about was trick-or-treaters asking me why we weren't as decorated and stuff as in the past (granted I didn't find out till afterwards he almost died). The second time my mom picked me up from school (cuz I "missed the bus" *cough* was at the GSA meeting *cough*) and told me my dad had to be transported to the Madison hospital (3 ish hours away) and I felt no emotions. Didn't start to get worried until I was given more details and found out he was unconscious for the first few days down there, and later when I found out it was more than just liver problems this time. This time he had had a golf ball sized cyst in his lower back that had burst and got a blood infection. It is a miracle he survived, he was in the Madison hospital for 3 weeks and missed Christmas (we got to finally visit him though on Christmas) for the first time in 20 years that my parents had known each other, through military deployments and all.

Sorry that was so long, I was originally just going to talk about my brother and this turned out longer than I expected. I know I sound like a broken record, but I'm really worried that there's something wrong with me, and I don't know what to do or where to go.

 

I meant to title that "I don't really grieve, is something wrong with me" but i changed it around multiple and forgot to fix that first part... whoops, oh well