Heartbroken

I went to bed yesterday so heartbroken. I was having a final scroll through Facebook when I reached the headline “Attack in London”. My heart sank to the floor. That makes 3 terrorist attacks since I started my final semester here in England. So many deaths, so many injuries and so many traumatised people I can’t stop to think about it for too long. I know that logically speaking we have a higher chance of dying by accident, like by sliding off the road in a car into a ditch or having a heart attack, but there is something so cruel and aggravating about leaving this world because someone else thought you didn’t deserve to be here anymore. How do families who have lost someone to a terrorist deal with their pain? It wasn’t an accident, it was the workings of an actual motivated human being. A stranger to most definitely most. How do you find peace with that sort of death?

I’m without words. I can’t even enter into a mind of someone who could do something like that. How are there so many of them? Why are there so many people who want to cause harm and trauma?

I’m sick of feeling so powerless. I am sick of people saying we shouldn’t “let them win” or show that this has affected us. “Keep calm and carry on” is getting old. We are supposed to carry on with our lives and “prove to the terrorist we are not defeated”, like we are some sort of emotionless chess pieces in a board game centred around a power struggle. I never asked to be apart of this damn board game.

Have they not “won”?. I can safely say I am affected. I am sad. I am angry. I am scared. I find myself constantly on edge now when I travel through big cities and airports. When I am there I am constantly eyeing out people I think look dodgy or shifty. I chose to sit in places I think would be less targeted. Is this really an ongoing fight over who is “winning” between “us” and “them”? People have DIED. They can never come back. Those families who have lost someone will never be able to live a normal life again. Let’s acknowledge that before we whack out our pride again and pretend we are still strong and determined to carry on. Nobody wins, there are deaths and trauma on both sides.

I am sick of religion. All religion. I am sick of people “worshipping” and not thinking for themselves. I am sick of weak people who can’t think for themselves being brainwashed by other people who have been brainwashed themselves or by people who manipulate religion to gain power. I am sick that some people are so weak they can’t see how fucking pointless and embarrassing killing in the name of Allah or God or Thor is.

Yesterday I cried. I am afraid to say I cried for selfish reasons. It hurts to think of innocent people dying, but it ripped my chest open thinking about my brother moving to London in a few months to study there for three years. I guess imagining yourself in their shoes is one way of showing empathy to those actually affected. My brain started to conjure up a reality where my brother was one of them, and it hurt my chest so much thinking about it I couldn’t help but cry. My brother and I fight like cats on heat, but I love him with all my heart, and the thought of loosing him is terrifying. I saw how broken it would have made my parents, how completely fucking broken they looked.

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