That day marked the beginning of my syndrome of not wanting to wake up. You go to bed at night happy to sleep, happy that you can escape, even if only for a little while, from this reality that you don’t want to accept. And then you wake up in the morning and from the very first second you realize what reality you have woken up to. On the other hand, the new reality seemed to sober me up, and the nighttime computer sessions and daytime sleep were gone 🙂
In fact, I have, and always have had, a sincere desire to help Ukraine. But when you imagine a reality in which my daughter’s father returns “in pieces,” or without some “pieces.” And then you see, as if in frames from a movie, what kind of life awaits her, a life without a father, or a life with a disabled father. And then you realize that you don’t want to let that happen.
At that time, everyone already knew that at that moment in Ukraine, there were simply no people unfit for military service. Everyone was fit. But! There were those who were fit for service in the rear. And that gave me great hope. It was like a way out, like salvation. And it became the light at the end of the tunnel. After talking to my friends, I came to the conclusion that my eyesight could make me fit for service in the rear. Yes, indeed, without glasses I could see normally for about 1-2 meters, but beyond that everything became very blurry. That was the truth. Even before COVID, my friends were offended by me. They were offended because I could walk 2-3 meters away from them and not say hello. Yes, I really did walk by and not say hello. But it wasn’t because I didn’t want to. I just didn’t recognize them; they, like others, were blurry silhouettes to me. We also remembered my childhood migraines, as well as the fact that I am afraid of direct sunlight, and that there were times when I lost consciousness after spending some time in the sun.
So I decided to spend the weekend preparing to find doctors to see for an examination on Monday.
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