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The black day has come
For the last six months I have been working as a family doctor in Dresden.
There are many Ukrainians among my patients.
Today, for example, a young woman came in.
For example, Mrs. K.
I have no complaints, I just came to make an appointment, waited in line for 5 hours just to know that there is a family doctor in case of emergency.
While I was collecting her vegetative history, I found out that she had insomnia, no appetite, labile mood and chronic cystitis.
«But these are hardly complaints,» says Mrs K. "We are well fed, it is warm at home, and there is no noise anywhere.
Yes, she has all her limbs in place, she doesn't sleep in the trench and even went to Lviv last week with her child to meet her husband there. That's why I have cystitis. As our urology teacher used to say, «cystitis of lovers».
«But my cystitis is a problem for white people, I made cranberry juice, it will go away, and in general I feel good, this inflammation is like a memory.».
Collage: Oleksandra Kulikovska
It is a common tendency to devalue one's pain because the all-Ukrainian pain rating is updated every day. But pain is subjective, and if someone has a painful nail, for example, it hurts regardless of how much better or worse it is for others.
Another woman, Mrs L., asked me today if I could prescribe antidepressants. Because wine is expensive and she is tired of crying all the time.
«When was the last time you felt joy?» I asked, "under what circumstances?"
«My daughter and I went to Disneyland,» Mrs L replied, «don't think it was a low-cost flight, I was cleaning my neighbour's house and had saved some money,» she began to justify herself for some reason, "we went for her birthday, we were riding and laughing all the time, it was good, but to be happy..."
«But what?»
«But we went in May, before Kherson was taken back, all our people are in Mykolaiv, there is no water, they are bombing, and we are in Disneyland...»
«Do you feel guilty for enjoying life?» I asked.
But not her, myself.
Because Ms L. is not the only one.
Recently, I went to a gallery for the first time in a long time. I was surprised by my surprise, because I had forgotten how to do something just for fun, because it brings me joy.
And then I realised. There is no «not in time».
On the contrary, war is a good time to turn «Guilty pleasure» into a manifesto. To turn the pleasure of life, any joy from small to large, into a manifesto. To contrast chthonic meat horror with vitality. Minutes of refined happiness to hours of anxiety.
Hey, people, the rainy day has come. There's no need to put it off.
I swear, I make the most honest, sincere promise to little Ira from my past, who lives at 102 Bazarna Street in Odesa, that no box of expensive chocolates will ever expire again. Everyone will be eaten. You can do it!
If instead of a bright future there is a black day, you need to live before nightfall.
The rainy day has come, which means it's time to light candles because we need light.
And everyone has their own candles.
It doesn't matter what gives you strength: cigarettes, stupid videos, weaving nets or intrigues, creepy sexual liaisons or childhood songs that you listen to with a treacherous longing for youth and a bit of self-loathing.
It doesn't matter if it's volunteering or endless visits to doctors, art or sports.
It doesn't matter if it's pink hair, a quarrel in the queue with an inadequate devil or soaking in a hot bath.
It doesn't matter whether it's valerian or halo-peridol, cuddles with your mother or an unauthorised crush that helps.
What does it matter if it works?
Do what fills you up, what gives you strength.
This war will not last for long, a year has already passed, and rage and asceticism will not hold out.
You cannot be ashamed of a candle that gives light.
Because light dispels darkness, and you can never return from darkness.
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