Speak up!
Living through days no human should ever have to endure, then moving into days that are less horrible, and then suddenly falling back into horror again, confuses the mind.
Is it okay to feel okay on the better days? Is it okay to feel broken on the worst ones? When I felt lighter, did that mean I forgot my losses? Or on the dark days, do I torture myself by overthinking, as if peace is a betrayal? Did I survive by allowing myself to dream of peace? And when war returned, did that mean I was stupid?
Sometimes I wonder if the only way to stop missing life is to convince myself there is no life waiting for me at all. But that feels like another kind of death. It is inhumane for us to dream of peace.
It feels heavier now than when the war was only against US. Now I feel even more trapped, and as I watch my enemy destroying other nations, I realize how deeply connected everything is to Our cause. This has cost me everything, physically and emotionally.
My enemy feels like an enemy of humanity itself, willing to torture and silence anything or anyone who stands ready to help me.
What has been done to me, in different forms and degrees, is being done to countless others across the world. The scale of suffering feels overwhelming, growing more merciless each day, not only here, but everywhere.
Countless innocents across the world are destined to lose their lives because of Zionism, and an imperialism. Children are being killed, every day, to protect someone who raped children.
Entire communities are being torn apart. This is the worst part of it.
At times, it feels as though we are waiting for nothing but God's mercy.
I feel this weight most during my shifts in the emergency department. My mind becomes as exhausted as my patients' bodies, yet I still have to stay steady and think clearly. I have to make decisions, to act, to fix what can be fixed. If I fail, I fear I will be failing not only as a doctor, but as a human being.
There are people who would help me rest my mind and body, who would help me feel human again. But, they can only reach me through words.
I didn't think our cause was a humanitarian one, but rather a religious one. Yet I know that human lives matter. Every life lost is not just a single death, it is the loss of countless possibilities for families, friends, and entire communities.
I cannot understand how anyone can reach a point where they stop caring about human life. I saw this kind of endless moral collapse in The Walking Dead series, and even as fiction, it was hard to comprehend, killing for pleasure or for resources in a world that has enough to provide for everyone. Yet the killers deserve nothing less than a just and severe punishment, and hell, with extra flames for their hearts.
It no longer feels like anger. It feels like profound anxiety in the face of complete darkness. It feels like witnessing all the ugliness in the world pour itself onto already wounded hearts and minds.
It feels as though human knowledge and intelligence, and everything meant to improve life, are being used instead to expand misery. Each day seems to bring new horrors into the lives of people who are already exhausted and trapped.
Sometimes I simply wish for real rest. And sometimes I wish I could carry this burden alone, absorb the pain, and somehow return the weight of suffering to where it belongs.
