Losing my mind in Gaza!

*Dalia Elnajjar is a 20-year-old Palestinian living in Gaza

I think I lost it. I can’t take it anymore. I can’t handle this situation. I’m really tired, grief-stricken and filled with sorrow. Yesterday, I had an anger attack, I cried a lot, I even smashed my cell phone.  Then, I paused thinking of how lame I’m being. I was crying at my bed. I thought that at least I still have a bed, though I don’t use it anymore for sleeping. I still have a  family to share my sadness and fears with. Many others had lost everything, their house, their family, or even both.

I feel ashamed to complain about my suffering because it’s nothing compared to others. Each story I hear, each picture I see, each cry I hear reminds me that I’m doing way better than others.

I’ve been trying to write an article for a couple of days, but I couldn’t because I can’t put others’ suffering in words. As one of the survivors told me today, “You will never understand it til it happens to you.”

She’s from Kuzaa (a neighborhood in Gaza), and she managed to get out 2 days ago. ”The Israeli soldiers ordered us (herself and some other women) to grovel on the ground and then they started to shoot above our heads” she said bitterly. I looked in her eyes and I drowned in her ocean of anguish. ”I really wished to die then,” she added. “There’s no words to describe what we have been through, then the bastards told us that we can leave the town. We were scared that they will shoot us in the back, as they did before to some group of men and youth. Many were killed that day, but they didn’t shoot us. We were running, waiting for death, but God protected us.”

I opened my mouth, but the words didn’t come out.  The tears in my eyes were killing me. She interrupted my heartbreak by saying, “Don’t worry, we will rebuild Gaza again, and your children will play in the new Gaza. It’s going to be fine as long as God with us.”

I smiled the saddest smile ever. Then I moved to see my grandmother. She looked very pale, each wrinkle of her face telling a story of pain and anguish. Her nieces are missing in Kuzaa. All of her brothers and sisters become homeless, and she is carrying a huge load of worry on her weak shoulders. I told her how she’s a strong woman, how she taught us how to be patient, how she should hold on, how all this will be over soon. Both of us knew that I was lying.

I’m eagerly waiting for the day in which the world will say in one voice, “We don’t want to fight anymore! No more wars! No more massacres!”  I’m looking for a beautiful world, full of love and peace for our children.

Please! To the world… STOP USING VIOLENCE! DOWN WITH HATE! Make it a better place for us and for the next generations.

*A version of this article originally appeared on Dalia’s blog.