Mom Held On Until The End, She Died Three Days Before We Evacuated.

This is the post I want you all to spread as much as you can. Do anything but I want it to be seen as much as possible. I don't care for any of my other posts as much as for this one. IF I DIE I WANT THIS POST TO BE SEEN. I WANT THE WORLD TO HEAR.

This is the memory of a 16 year old girl Katya from Mariupol. I translated it to English and I cried while translating. Please read this. Don't scroll. Don't be ignorant and indifferent.

Do you know the feeling of pain? Once I fell in love with a boy but he didn't love me back, and I thought that it was painful. Turned out that the real pain is to see your mother dying with your own eyes. And to see your brother coming to her again and again, asking her: "Mommy, please, don't sleep, you'll freeze". And we'll never visit her grave. She got left in the cold and dark basement.

We peed, slept and ate our last portions of food in the same basement.

Once uncle Kolya caught a pigeon, I think on the fifth or sixth day, and we fried it and we ate it. And then we all puked.

Mom held on until the end, she died three days before we evacuated.

I told my brother that she's sleeping deeply and that we shouldn't wake her up. But, I think, he understood everything. He understood back then when our lady neighbor died and we couldn't put her outside and she started smelling. And then it became quiet for awhile, uncle Kolya put her outside and got blown up by a hidden grenade (my note, this word "rastyajka" means a grenade with a string attached to it, not a stray bomb. It was put to kill civilians coming out from the basements). Mom cried a lot. After Dad's death, uncle Kolya was the closest person to us.

The dead bodies stink so much.

They were everywhere. I closed my brother's eyes with Mom's scarf so he didn't have to see it. When we were running I almost threw up several times.

I don't believe in your god anymore.

If he existed, we wouldn't have had to suffer so much. My Mother never, you hear me, NEVER did anything bad. She never even left uncle Kolya in another room until she got married. She went to church and confessed often, and so did I. Uncle Kolya gave up smoking so Mom wouldn't worry about him sinning. And your god took her away. The pastor told me something about her helping god there, but it would be so much better for her to help god here, by bringing us up.

I hate russia.

My own uncle is there. Do you know what he said to me today on the phone? "Katya? Which Katya? Girl, I don't know you. What war, which Katya?". And then he wrote me from a different number: "Katya, don't write me. It's dangerous for me and my family. And your mom won't come back".

I hate them! It was his own sister?! How possibly can a person do this???

You know what? I think I'm going to come back to Mariupol. And I'm gonna live on the same place as before. And everyday come into the basement of the new building to put flowers.

It's also scary when the kids cry when it's forbidden. It's forbidden because we needed to not be heard.

These monsters found people in the basements and killed them. Those, who survived, told us that the russian soldiers could rape kids, the elderly and even dead bodies.

If there is a god, why does he let it happen?

I don't want to live anymore. We may be separated now, I suppose. I may not ever see my brother again. And why? Why did this putin "save" us? We lived so well, we even bought a car. Uncle Kolya promised to teach me how to drive. And they even burned the car. And our flat is no more. I want to die and I can't.

Please, hug your kids! Otherwise when you die, they might not remember your smell. If I handle it all and have kids, — I'm going to hug them 24/7.

***

This is it. Now it's time for you to do your part. Do a tag game, tag all your mutuals, do EVERYTHING BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS IMPORTANT. THIS IS MY HONEST HUMAN SCREAM TO YOU AND I SCREAM TO YOU TO SPREAD THIS MEMORY. THIS IS THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS, NOT OSCARS, NOT MEMES, NOT EVERYDAY LIFE. EVERY DAY OF WAR, EVERY DAY WE DON'T GET OUR VICTORY IS THE DAY WE LOST MORE OF OUR INNOCENT PEOPLE. MAKE A GODDAMN CHANGE, PEOPLE!!!

Yours truly

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8 months ago

I think that more fanfiction should be written with the aim to tackle the original meaning of hanahaki. Because when the concept of hanahaki disease was originally created, it was intended to be a metaphor for suppressing one’s feelings.

Your feelings are this beautiful garden of flora inside of your chest. When you express how you feel honestly, you allow for it to grow freely. But when you hide how you feel out of fear of rejection, and try to make it smaller and smaller, the flowers become cramped inside of you, until you choke on your own feelings. Every flower you cough up is something you’ve felt, but refused to say.

The whole “dying” thing is intended to be more symbolic especially. You’re killing off bits and pieces of yourself and how you feel, because you’re afraid to express yourself.

It’s not really supposed to be, “The one I love doesn’t love me back, and I’m dying from it.” Rather, it’s more along the lines of, “Repressing your emotions is bad for you, and it’s better and healthier to express them freely, even when it’s scary.”

Which is to say that, one, the cure for the disease should be telling the person that you are in love with how you feel. How the other person feels about the person afflicted should have nothing to do with it, as the trope is meant to be about feeling your emotions unapologetically.

And that, two, it’s not an inherently romantic trope. Obviously, it has romantic applications, but it can be written for any situation where a character is hiding how they truly feel. This can include a refusal to address a specific trauma, a desire to indulge in something that they’re ashamed of, and even really practical things, like wanting to ask one’s boss for a higher position.

Although (as an aromantic person myself) I don’t agree with this conclusion about the trope, this application would also avoid people calling it arophobic. When the thing killing the character is a refusal to be honest with themselves, rather than an unrequited love, it’s on nobody’s hands but their own to save their life.

There are a ton of ways that this interpretation of the hanahaki disease could be applied in new and interesting ways in fanfiction, and I’d love to read what things people could come up with!

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