Over the past months, through the Warm Hearts Nuseirat campaign, your support has helped thousands of families and children in my camp survive the winter and its hardships.

I know the world loves heroic Gazan stories. That's why I'm sharing this one.

Today, I had a near-death experience, but I successfully rescued a child from drowning.

Can you tell, from this photo, who is the one carrying a large scar across her abdomen?

Today marks the day 945 of the genocide. It's too dark out there, and I hear explosions in the distance. I'm stuck in hell.

A Gazan baby survived, not to face abandonment all over again.

Cowards. They thought that unleashing an overwhelming force on a baby, cutting her open with their missiles, and leave her lying in a hospital bed with her bowels outside her body, waiting for hours without a surgeon to save her, only for her to survive into a life of endless suffering and injustice

I have been living through a genocide. My entire life has been a war. Even though my homeland no longer feels fit for human life, and the world keeps moving on no matter what happens to me, I continue to endure.

It's very busy at the hospital. Do you know why? The occupation started shooting randomly everywhere, and many people were crossing the street, Some on carts. That's all I can report for now.

Sometimes, being logical makes you seem difficult, or not fun, not because you are, but because you're not living inside the same "easy" reality others are.

Choosing to be gentle, to think with mercy about what is said and done, by others and by yourself, isn't weakness. It's necessary if you want to feel alive.

I think the reason I'm running out of energy is that so much of it is spent chasing every word and every action, everything said or done, by others and by myself. Trying to make sense of things that don't make sense.

I just wanted to ask people who worry about me and about how I feel to stop doing so. That's because I am doing nearly okay with staying a sane “human", just feeling tired and sad all the time.

I went to the sea with my friends, Aboud and Moaz, but I couldn't connect with it. I don't think I can feel the pleasure of being by the sea anymore.

I used to think it was easy to distinguish between someone who is simply sad and someone who is seriously ill.

I used to think it was easy to distinguish between someone who is simply sad and someone who is seriously ill. But that line is becoming confusing. In moments when multiple cases arrive at once, I sometimes find myself uncertain, should I treat a psychological trauma response, or consider a possible cardiac event?

What scares me is the thought that I may never feel like myself again. Life doesn't feel real to me anymore, yet I keep holding on to it.

Thank you to everyone who has helped me survive the unimaginable so far, with your support and empathy. It once made me feel alive. These days, I wish it still could. I still feel alone, even with you, because whatever strength I find is quickly consumed by the reality l'm living in.

I've just been busy being tortured, physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally, under the weight of the most powerful militaries in the world.

It is not surprising how the U.S. military was able to save two of its own soldiers after their warplane was attacked, in an extremely dangerous place, against a powerful enemy. What is also not surprising is how they claimed it was impossible to save even a single child in Gaza, while tens of thousands were left to be killed, and while policies were enabled that left over a million children suffering through famine.

I cannot believe that after all the suffering and torture they have endured, they may be hanged in the end, and that it would be considered legal, while the world continues to remain silent. Two hundred lsraeli prisoners kept the world's attention. As for the approximately 9,500 Palestinian detainees, they are treated as if they are nothing to care about. But for us, this is sheer inhumanity. This is absolute injustice.

These days, I am haunted by nightmares; and once, I had four in a single sleep. I see the occupation chasing me, to kill me or to torture me. In one dream, I was fighting it. In two dreams, I dreamed that I was killed.

What will happen to us?

It's been raining heavily, and it's very cold. It is hurting all the way down to the bone and soul.

Last night, I cared for a deeply distressed patient. He was convinced he was having a heart attack, describing a burning sensation in his face and left arm. Clinically, everything was normal, except for his psychological suffering.

I said today that the emergency room felt like a conflict Zone, so many injured children, along with others suffering from traffic accidents and physical trauma

They targeted schools. We did too.

But they came with bombs. We came with hope and care.

They left behind dead children and broken hearts. We left children feeling a little more alive, with happier hearts.