It’s so surreal to me that this is the life some people are living. Literally driving by dead bodies to go make some more or become one yourself. I don’t know how people even exist in that world.
I watched hocus pocus with my kids last night and my greatest worry was about some juice they spilled on the floor.
Count your blessings
When it’s you, on the winning side, it’s thrilling. It’s the same feeling as when you’re on a football team and you start blowing out your school’s rival team, after the game was close at the half. The fear is there but I can’t imagine a greater high.
It just sucks when the adrenaline and dopamine start to fade. Then the memory of all the smells, sounds, and feel of everything you touched becomes both more and less detailed. It’s just something you do until you aren’t doing it anymore. The positive progress is a fuel, keeping morale and willpower high. The nightmares and chronic anxiety happen when it’s all over and you feel safe enough to try to let your guard down. The depression comes when your brain can’t get the same chemical high from the fighting.
Another fuel is that they’re fighting for their lives. Putin’s treatment of Chechnya, another country that totally resisted him, proves that completely succumbing to Russia is a fate worse than dying on a battlefield. All of these people will have PTSD. For the Ukrainians it will be worth it.