Life and Illness in the Shadow of War

Since the Israeli attack on Iran on June 13, 2025, I have been waiting for another war every single day. Trump’s ultimatums, along with the enthusiasm of pro-war voices both inside and outside Iran, have made me brace myself for the sound of explosions at any moment. As the year draws to a close, this anticipation only intensifies.

At every loud noise, I jump:
“Was that an explosion? Did they attack?”

Others try to calm me:
“No, it’s construction noise… thunder… a car door… a motorcycle… the refrigerator… someone knocking.”

This constant anticipation, mixed with fear, has disrupted my sleep. My bed is right under the window. Every night, I pull the blanket over my head, thinking that if an attack comes and the glass shatters, at least I might be protected. It is the extent of my safety preparation.

In the mornings, when I wake up and see that my body is still intact, that I am unharmed, I take a deep breath and whisper:
“Thank God… it seems calm.”