On February 24, I woke up to the sounds of flying aircraft over the house. It was our military plane. The first days passed in a blur. I don’t even remember it well now. I have never experienced such a level of fear and knocked the ground out from under my feet. I slept dressed, with a phone in my hands. Jumped up from the sound of the refrigerator turning on. I cried a lot. I always left the house with a backpack with everything I needed (even to the store): all the money, documents, a change of clothes, a toothbrush… I didn’t know if I could come home.
The most difficult thing was to decide whether to stay or leave. I didn’t want to leave. But what if I can save my family with this? How then not to blame yourself for not taking out your relatives, if suddenly one of them will be gone. It became calmer when I decided that I was staying. It’s my choice.
Now I think it’s right.
I’m 31. I’m not married. There are no children.
Often in my life there were situations when I said to myself: “Nastya, it’s good that at least you don’t have children. Otherwise, you definitely wouldn’t have done it.”
Now I repeat these words to myself again. I do not know what would happen to me if I had a child. And I don’t know how to decide in the future, because any day a war may start, and I may turn out to be that pregnant woman from Mariupol, which did not survive. Or that mom who lost her two-month-old baby.
Everything fades. Stable life, dreams.
All the supports are knocked out. The state of uncertainty is terrifying. Today is the 43rd day of the war. Three-thirty in the morning. The siren is again outside the window.
Damn all the universal evil, wars, stupidity and lies.