On Enduring a War -- How Hard Times Change a Man

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I am a young, a-social man who endured far more than the average person has ever endured. My hardships built me to become fearless, strong and brave. In solitude I coped and recovered from my many traumas and ailments, both inflicted by the world and self-inflicted as well. I grew strong, mentally strong and ascetic. My traumas broke me and built me to become truly strong, giving up on weakness. My spirit is unyielding, my will unbreakable.

I do not fear this war for I came to it mentally prepared. The sound of rocket alarms, which I hear often daily, do not intimidate me. The news of torn-down buildings and death do not intimidate me.

For many, war is an era of sorrow. For me, it's just another Tuesday.

In war, people die. That's just how war is. It's inevitable that in war people die. I made peace with that fact. I made peace with the fact that I was born to a nation of unrelenting survivors, and as such have become an unrelenting survivor myself, in my own methods.

In solitude, I survive better than most people would. I purposefully isolate myself to endure and to stay safe. I rarely go out. I rarely talk to people. Ever since I was a child, I knew I was too sensitive, and therefore I have built and designed myself for toughness in solitude.

And thus, as people scream, mourn their dead and lose their homes, I endure in silence like I always endured life. Life was already tough for me before the days of war. Ever since I saved my grandmother all I knew in life immense mental pain. Immense pain and sorrow under the veil of amnesia. Furthermore, I already realized that the world is going to be more dystopian, which casted an additional veil of depression on me as a child. But that depression is gone. Instead, came acceptance of reality as it is, alongside with my desire to rectify the world via Philosocom.

I am not a social man. I am a solitary creature who endures the pains of 2020's Middle East in silence, alongside my own PTSD. My pain is my drive and my reality. I shall endure this pain until there will be peace, and even after there shall be peace (who knows when), I shall be left with enduring my personal pains heroically.

I have endured much. I do not fear this world. I did many brave things, during this war, like daring to love, daring to save and help people that would otherwise be left alone, giving them a voice and giving them hope, even for a little bit. Independently, during the war, I redeemed myself from my darkness, and let my inner light shine.

A survivor of a failed world is what I am. The education system didn't prepare me for war. I prepared myself. I do not fear what I cannot control. I bravely live, day after day, in a war-torn country, as I recover from my many traumas, inflicted by an incompetent world, and by myself, purposefully.

Much of my hard life has built me up for strength most people just don't have. I saved my grandmother, then guarded a then-unstable mother for 17 years, starting at 10. At 10, most people still have their childhoods. For me, I saw my grandmother screaming that the world had forsaken her, and observed her grabbing a knife and stabbing herself.

Had I not been there, she would twist the knife deeper. I still have flashbacks to this very day, to that cursed event, but I am able to endure alone, no psychologists, no help to my mind other than medication.

My life had been defined by relentless survival of trauma. This war means less to me, as a result. My pathway in life is unique, for the education system failed preparing me to the real world. I often feel like a solitary navigator, having no choice but to carve his own path in adulthood, enduring PTSD and ailments mainly by myself.

Those who know me more know that I am a hero. That I am brave and strong. Life was hard for me before the war, life is hard for me during the war. For me, it is a different hardship, but a hardship nonetheless, and hardships are something I am used to.

It was the very grandmother I saved that taught me better than the entire education system. She raised me to be, in her mad words, the "ultimate moral soldier", designed to rectify this world, and make sure my mother is safe. I already did a lot in her name, in the form of helping people. Helping people is what rectifies myself from my darkness, and makes me a happier being, even during war.

I'm keeping on Philosocom as a promise to her, to do my best to be a moral man that helps people.

Life matured me long before the war, but this war matures me even more. I don't have the ego I used to, just a year and a half ago. I don't have the need to appear in person online. I live independently, standing tall on my own two feet, with no support network, after I saved several people from sacrificial despair, and after helping the needy, and after getting love, and breaking my monastic vow.

Seeing my dear one smile is what keeps me going in life at this point, after 14 years of my life where I was in great despair myself.

Life. Life was always hard, but life built me. My pain was always invisible, and writing is how I let go of much of my pain.

Even being born was traumatizing for me. I grew up to an unstable mother and grandmother, to divorced parents, in a criminal, poverty neighborhood. I always sheltered myself from the world, and always saw the world as hostile, because that was the life I was given. These were the cards I was dealt with, in addition to seeing my grandmother stab herself, which only added to the trauma.

This war is just another hardship for me, as a result. The war doesn't excite me, as a result, for life was always hard. It is simply a new breed of hardship I've never experienced before, but I came mentally prepared for it.

It is said that hard times create great men, and it is correct. Had my beloved not wished me to be safe, I would stay to endure seeing rockets above me. One day I felt like I would die, and indeed, one time a rocket exploded so near to me I just knew I would've died had I not ran away.

I endured much, suffered much, but there is a lifetime still ahead of me. In solitude, I grow from my traumas and live life casually in a war-torn country, alone. No one to help me but myself, by choice.

I always chose the hard paths in life, because the hard paths are what build you. It was always obvious to me, and as such I went, as a teenager, to hours-long walks, to build a self-ruthless self. I already made my life hard on purpose long before the war. This is why, for me, this war is just another hardship.

But still, it changes me. It makes me stronger than I ever was before. I choose to live a largely-solitary life to spare people. Most people are not as tough as I am, so I deem it fit to spare people from my brutally honest way of communicating. I don't want to cause pain to anyone, I refuse to derive joy from causing pain, it is not what my late grandmother would've wanted.

I've long accepted the fact that this war might last long. I do not fear it. The suffering of my nation doesn't bring me down.

Even amongst war, I manage to find happiness. The happiness of love, specifically. I no longer live for myself. I live for two people, me and her.

And I vow to stay strong. I vow to remain unbreakable and fearless. I vow to resume enduring anything that life shall put in my way.

I already endured much, and I can endure more. I do not fear, for I have developed myself to be fearless. It is just I want to keep sparing the world from the likes of me, because you either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain.

And my aim in life is to die a hero, and get rid of my darkness for good by helping people through Philosocom.

Love and ruling this site with a helping hand is what keeps me going, what keeps me happy, what helps me not succumb.

I want people to learn from my example. I want my life to be a tale of bravery and strength. I want to inspire. I want to help people not give up. I want to help people, through my writings, to choose life, despite the hardships that life may throw at you.

Sacrificial despair is only for the weak. When you are as strong as me, nothing can break you. When nothing can break you, your perception changes. Even the longest of wars can be but Tuesdays to you.

So don't give up just yet. Believe in yourself. Believe in yourself and don't let down those who are dear to you and those whom you are dear to them. You are important, you are valuable.

Sometimes, it's these little moments that help me move on in life, like the smile of someone special to you. Find someone to love, find someone to cherish, even if that someone would be yourself.

Endure the pain, endure the suffering, and march, march on.