Submitted by Cape Town’s Glenda Mark, this piece of writing expresses the feelings of a British-Israeli woman, worn down by the ongoing war.
Putting your thoughts down on paper can sometimes help you find coping mechanisms, especially when it feels like your heart is constantly racing at a pace it shouldn’t be. Until now, I have only loved my country and been incredibly proud of my husband, who has been on Miluim since October 7th. I have been strong, supportive, and managing on my own with three kids, with the help of friends and the community. But enough is enough. I am exhausted. I’m not asking for pity, but this cannot continue. What was once abnormal has now become normal.
I’m tired. I’m doing my best to hold on to my optimism, to keep loving my country, but it’s getting harder. The weight of it all is starting to break through. It’s like I’m stuck in a loop of trying to survive, yet I’m not really living. I’m just rushing from one thing to the next, barely keeping up.
I realise how much I’m rushing through everything – trying to juggle my family, my work, my responsibilities – but it’s not helping. Instead, it’s just making things worse. I’m doing everything I can, but in trying to get through it all, I’m missing something. I’m losing sight of the small moments, the connections, and that feeling of purpose that keeps you going. I’m missing out on watching my kids grow up – those little moments when they laugh at something silly or when I can sit down with each of them individually, really seeing them and connecting. I’m not just exhausted from my own struggles, but I can feel the weight of their lives passing by, and I can’t help but feel like I’m missing it.
And yet, while I feel my own exhaustion, I know my kids are suffering too in their own way. Their world has changed, and I can see the strain on their faces. They’re coping, but they’re missing the stability and joy that they should be able to have at this age.
This isn’t just about me – it’s about all the other miluim families trying to manage the weight of it all.
This is a reminder not to forget the families who are enduring this, often silently. We’re not just going through a battle on the front lines; we’re battling the quiet suffering of being apart, the exhaustion, the anxiety, and the grief that comes with not knowing when it will end. ●
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