Since October 7th…
I have been caught up in—and at times overwhelmed by—an inescapable pall of grief that is intricately woven into all aspects of life in Israel. We are a society in a perpetual state of mourning.
I’ve been unable to listen to music, a pastime in which I’ve been able to find great solace during other mourning periods in my life. If I do choose to play music, the only genre I can really bear to listen to is classical, primarily from the Baroque period. On the mornings when I drive into work, there’s one radio station where the music is mellow enough to handle, but not so quiet that it depresses me. I can’t listen to upbeat music.
I haven’t been sleeping well. It’s a miracle if I sleep past 5:30am, and more often than not, I wake up before that – even though I’ve already woken up several times during the night. This morning I woke up at 4am, after having woken the first time at around 2am. I’ve also started to have dreams about antisemitism, which isn’t really the break from real life that I hope for during the nighttime hours. I’m perpetually exhausted.
My chosen wardrobe color palette has narrowed even further. Wearing bright colors or prints feels inappropriate. These days, I’m wearing even more black than usual, or dark, earthy solids. I don’t actually own any light-colored clothing, so it’s not one of my choices.
I’ve been binge-watching ER because the only television shows I find thoroughly distracting are cop/detective shows, hospital shows, or shows about lawyers/law firms, and I’m waiting for new seasons to drop with all of my regular shows. Sometimes I’ll throw a familiar movie into the mix, but I haven’t been able to watch comedies other than Israeli satire shows.
Watching the news makes me agitated, and I can usually only put up with it for a few moments before putting on something – anything – else. These days, I prefer reading it to watching it. This has never happened to me before.
I’ve lost some friendships and been disappointed in others. In a few instances, it broke my heart. With that, I’ve also found unexpected strength and joy in other friendships and made new connections.
I’ve been far too preoccupied by the reactions around the world to what’s happening here, and allow myself to become too invested in the actions of those who are hateful, ignorant, or stupid. Getting involved and allowing it to get to me deplete my energy and depress me daily. I know it’s not good for me.
I have been moved to tears by acts of kindness and words of support too many times to count – but I haven’t been able to cry even once.
I’ve felt blessed to have so many articulate people in my circles, individuals who often expressed what I was feeling when I was unable to find the words on my own, even though I desperately needed to release the thoughts screaming in my head. Sometimes, there are simply too many thoughts and not enough words.
I’ve seen my son twice, each time for less than 24 hours. And I consider myself fortunate, because other parents have not been so lucky. I miss him.
