When a person is born into a family in which there are victims of war, and the father was left disabled, he himself indirectly becomes a victim of war. Since childhood, I was afraid of war, I was afraid of the nation with which we have a conflict. Do you know what my worst dreamwas? Until the age of 22, I wore glasses, my eyesight was minus five. Then, I had laser eye surgery. Before that, I always had nightmares where Azerbaijanis attack us, reach our houses and try to kill us (actually, not so far from reality, remember Hadrut a few days ago). Every morning I woke up and tried to find loopholes, how could I escape them in that case. But the worst thing was that I was afraid to fall, drop my glasses, and that someone would step on them in a hurry (I saw this once in the movie “The Mummy”). And what would I do then? I would lie and not see where to go… It was the worst nightmare of my childhood, and even after. After I had my eye surgery at 22, my happiness was not only because of my eyesight. I thought – even if the war starts, I will be able to see where to run to… What I want to say is that we are born into trauma.
I really miss my simple days. Most of all – sleeping in pajamas. For 20 days, we have been sleeping in clothes we can escape in from the shelter, in the event of a bombing. Although, where would we escape from the shelter? When these sounds disturb us again, we want to get up and run to a safer place. And then you realize – oh, this is a safe place. Now, I don’t even move. I miss my bed, my room, the big Teddy bear…
I dropped by our home, at least to see what I miss. I sat down in the room, I looked. Everything is so valuable for me, everything is so mine. I look at a bookcase, candles and candlesticks, a photograph, a travel map on the wall, paintings, a graphic tablet (which I received as a gift, but I never had a chance to learn how to use it), an easel … I can imagine that this war would end differently. I have only one version in my head, and everything that happens has just a way to it. It’s a long way, really … The April war is called the four-day war (though it lasted longer), but I want this one to be called the 20-day war, and that it ends today…
About animals. And even today the fish seem to be reborn. I remember when I took them from the office, they were very sad, did not move. And today they were having a party in the aquarium. It made me very happy. And my dog – Bima. When I walked into our yard, he went crazy. He misses us very much, especially my brother and sister. And they miss him as well. Every time my brother calls from the front line, the second question is – how is Bima? We love him very much. I sat with him, took a picture of him, played, had some fun.
Today, I was told that my father will also join the army. He had already gone through this when he was 20-21 years old. We are very worried, because several years ago he had a heart attack and has heart problems. And he worries about us, how we can cope without him. We ate together, were silent, no one uttered a word. He took me back to the shelter, hugged me, said goodbye with a smile. When the car disappeared from sight, the tears did not obey me…
About the good: Today I was pleased with a crepe. We ate it with condensed milk. It was a really great surprise during these difficult times. Friends asked – what to send? I said that there is no need for anything, send only Nutella. I am very sorry that I often denied myself sweets. If I knew that everything would be like this, I would eat Nutella and Pringles to glory! Back then, we restrained ourselves, but ther is only one life. These are the thoughts today.
And right now they started to bomb Stepanakert again.
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