How was it to live in the Soviet Union just after it had collapsed

The USSR disappeared legally in December, 1991. But it was dying for quite some time before and after that date. Not quite as long as Rome did, but it was not an overnight event either. I think we started to feel it soon after Gorbachev introduced his “reforms”. We did not know about the country’s dependency on oil. Neither did we know that oil prices had dropped. That’s why only Gorbachev’s actions marked for us the timeline. The shock from published revelations about behind the scenes dealings came next. Then came the take over attempt in August 1991, followed by Communist Party ban, USSR legal disappearance, inflation (I lived in the Ukraine then and saw it rocketing up to 3000% a year – all life savings have gone) and finally criminal elements taking over “legally” – that was the end of the USSR.

How was it? Shock, disbelief, utter desperation, sense of betrayal, denial, anger, depression – all stages of grief and loss, except bargaining (with whom? nobody even listened) and acceptance (that would mean dying, at least for me). People committed suicide – physical and spiritual. There were many neurosis. I know personally somebody who was shocked by the change so bad that barely could walk for a year and does not remember that year at all. Even today, when I write it, my fists tend to clench, my heart rate goes up and my eyes become moist.

Our life, as we knew it, was robbed from us. We were thrown away like garbage, casually, without a moment of a thought or hesitation, without even a glimpse of attention – the most insulting way. Those, who had called us to sacrifice for the great and noble cause during Soviet times, were the first to turn coats and to take advantage of us, ordinary people, who toiled all their lives. These people, who took the biggest hit, had not taken advantage of the Soviet system, did not steal, did not cheat, but worked hard for the benefits of the others first, then for the family second.

Imagine during the war an army takes losses and pushes into enemies trenches. You are wounded, but continue fighting, helping your friends. Then suddenly your commander starts shaking hands with the enemy brasses and orders you to lay down your weapon and strip naked, so they could sell your weapon and your uniform for their – joint with former enemy – advantage. You ask, “What about me?” But they do not bother to answer. They even do not try to listen. They don’t care, preoccupied with their own insatiable desire to acquire more stuff, grabbing everything in sight, pulling the peg leg from a beggar in the street, if they thought they could sell it too (the medals for his war heroism or peace time achievements this beggar had sold and drank away already, darn it!). You are shoved away casually like a nuisance, unless there is something else they can take from you, of course. Are you dying? Good! We can sell your corpse for parts. There are many buyers abroad.

That’s how it was to live in the Soviet Union just after it had collapsed.

First published on Quora

This and other themes are treated in more details in the following books: