My name is David, I am a Belarussian who recently returned from Ukraine. I was recently diagnosed with clinical depression and am currently being treated in a psychiatric hospital. I would like to tell you how it happened that a young guy doesn't want to live and almost did the worst thing in his life.
Even before the protests, my life wasn't sugar and I dreamt about death quite often, but I always stopped myself and didn't let that rather scary dream come true. August 2020 came and, much to my surprise, I got very involved in politics. I was fired up with the idea of overthrowing a dictatorial regime, and even though I was scared in the early days of the protests, I still went out and tried to do my best. As time went on, the protests continued, and I became more and more inspired by it. Then October came and I learned that they were coming for me soon because of the criminal case against me.
After much deliberation, I decided to flee Belarus. Three days later I was already safe in another country. Even though I left, I did not stop fighting against the regime, but I tried to take part in all activities and helped everyone I could. But as time passed, the protests began to fade, and the agenda began to change. Then came the most terrible date of all — February 24, 2022.
On that day, my morning in Kiev began very early. At 5:44 a.m. I was awakened by my friends, whom I was visiting. Without thinking too much, we got ready and, to the sound of sirens, went to the store to buy supplies for the first time and think about what to do next. At first we thought about trying to leave, but were faced with the fact that there were already a huge line at the train station, and that the cars were stuck in heavy traffic on the way out of town. We decided to wait in the Metro for a couple of days until there were fewer people and it was possible to leave. We stayed in Kiev for six very long days. We went home during the day and always spent the night in the subway because Kiev was bombed very heavily at night.
Those six days imprinted itself heavily in my life, although we were not hit by heavy shelling, but we suffered a lot. On the sixth day of the war we decided to try to leave by train. Fortunately, when we arrived at the station, the train to Kovel arrived at 12:23. We thought our adventure would be over very soon, but it turned out that the train wouldn't leave the platform until 9pm. As soon as we sat down — the train went to the depot, where we sat without lights and with the curtains closed and waited for the train to depart.
At nine o'clock the train arrived at the station, which was full of people. Within a couple of minutes our carriage resembled a can of sardines. After 15 hours, we arrived in Kovel, from where we headed for the border, which we were very lucky to pass in a few hours.
After that I went to Lithuania and my friends stayed in Poland. Here I found a psychotherapist and a psychiatrist to deal with my condition. At first I was getting better, but then I got depressed and after a month it turned clinical. The pills I was taking didn't help me. So it happened that I started cutting my arm, and every day my cuts got deeper and deeper. When I went to my therapist — she and I made the decision to put me in a psychiatric hospital for treatment.
After I recovered, I would need money to pay for the room I was renting, as well as the expensive medications I was prescribed. I would be very grateful to anyone who would express their support during this period and help me get back on my feet.
How much is needed?
1000 € — to pay my rent and utilities, to buy medicines that were prescribed by the hospital, to buy food for the first time.