11:30 pm
I didn’t plan to write anything tonight.
But to be honest night is the worst time for me.
My routine for the last 7 days looks the same:
I come back from a walk, hoping to distract myself.
Evening always brings the darkest thoughts.
I try to talk to someone, anyone, to escape them.
Then, when I feel tired enough, I take a shower and drink calming tea.
Then a pill.
Valerian root.
Then music.
Then lying in silence for hours, without even the desire to sleep.
I’ve gotten used to shaheds.
To missiles.
But I can’t get used to sleeping after the kidnapping.
Every time I close my eyes, I feel it again.
See it again.
It comes back like a wave that drowns me.
After 2 a.m., I usually manage to fall into some kind of nap
One or two hours, no more.
Then another nightmare wakes me up.
An eternal circle of hell.
This is how I live right now.
And during the day, without real sleep, I’m filled with nervous energy.
I can’t sit still.
I need to do something but I can’t focus.
I try to work. I sit down, hoping to be productive.
But then I realize I’m too exhausted.
Too drained.
You’d think that would help me sleep after
But no.
My heart beats like it’s trying to escape my chest.
So I chase some illusion of normal life.
Pretend like things are okay.
But I can’t lie to myself. Not anymore.
Some days, I think about ending it.
Other days, I feel like I’m floating in a fog, detached from everything.
My childhood was deeply traumatic too.
Maybe one day I’ll have the courage to tell you about it.
Spoiler: it might be even more shocking than what happened recently.
But this
This day with the kidnapping
It somehow feels even worse than the day the full-scale war began.
I’ll never forget it.
And I believe justice will come. One day.
For now, I’m healing. Slowly.
Too slowly.
But I’m trying my best.
I’m strong.
And nothing will break me.