A year of war in Ukraine
It's been a year.
A year of fear and uncertainty. Also a year of guilt for feeling fear. And uncertainty. And apathy. And panic. And adrenaline. And helplessness. And the pride of victories. And the tragedy of failure. And faith in a quick end. And the hopelessness of undefined end.
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Railway station in Przemyśl, the first refugees from the attacked Ukraine arrive.
A year of guilt for not being a real victim. A year of justifying my feelings. A year of shame and embarrassment, but also a sense of relief, even some shameful joy, thanks to being far away and safe.
A year of being an emotional cheater and a hustler. A year of emotional constipation everyday, but braveness when facing no challenges what so ever. A year of courage against threats that do not affect me. A year of fear that one day I will have to choose between becoming a refugee and staying falsely heroic.
It's been a year of pragmatic, convenient choices that erase the possibility of making choices as real as they are impossible. Choices, that would become a failed test of character. Choices, in which it is easy to support someone, but for which it is even easier to condemn, and which I do not even allow myself to consciously analyse. All that for maintaining self-respect so that I don't have to face my weakness. For continuing to deal with being a victim of only my own convenience, my ability to always explain the privilege, and above all, the victim of desperately believing in these excuses.
It's only been a year.
They say there will be more. For me, it means pages full of petty whimper over the lightness of everyday that's never lost, over a comfortable life, over easy choices. For them, it means another year filled with hunger, cold, suffering, death and hopelessness. Everything that seems easily imaginable but truly isn't. For the sake of our mental stability.
First signs of support for Ukraine.
We are guilty and we do not deserve absolution. Guilty of being born on the safe side of the border, during safe times. We're guilty of arranging our lives so that it's nice, comfortable and good. Guilty of seeking happiness despite knowing the evil. Guilty of all this suffering and trauma, but also guilty of help, warmth and support that we gave so generously.
We are guilty, but our only fault is being humans. We don't need any absolution. Instead, let's look for strength in ourselves and in others. Strength to endure, peace to persevere, love so it won't perish, courage to live with weaknesses, sensitivity towards ourselves and other people.
Understanding, for yourself.
Peace, for everyone.
Living. Not only existing.
Slava Ukraini! 💪
Wero 💙💛
