It’s hard to comprehend that, even today, in modern times, people resort to wars to settle disagreements. Fighting for borders, religious purposes, natural resources. Whatever the causes, one thing is certain. Each war inevitably produces an army of refugees, millions of displaced persons. And, it takes much longer than the war itself for these people to get their lives on track afterwards.

I remember the civil war that tore apart ex-Yugoslavia. I’ll never forget it. Not because I can’t, but because it changed my life forever. For only one day.

Most of us remember the days of glorious Yugoslavia, the prosperity and beauty of life it offered. It was one of the most economically developed countries in Europe. Every citizen, at the time probably not aware of its strength and integrity, could be proud to live in such an advanced and stable country. So, how came that everything collapsed in a single day? What did people fight for? From this prospective – for nothing. Even those who believed it was for a noble reason regretted it later. The conflict passed, but the consequences never will.

There is no point in proving who is to blame. Let’s finally learn the lesson. No war is ever a solution, it is the worst way to claim anything. And its effects never diminish, as long as there are people who were struck by it. Unfortunately, I am one of those people. There are probably worse scenarios, but mine was pretty bad. I don’t want to tell my life story or lament over my destiny, it would lead to writing a novel. Hard one to digest. I just want to explain how hard it is to get back to, at least, zero position and start from the scratch.

Luckily, I recovered from the terror. I don’t hate. It’s a miracle. Even if I did, no one could blame me.

In my view, armed conflict are the ultimate expression of primitivism. Particularly religious ones. At the time, it was hard for me to accept that I didn’t have negative feelings towards “the nation” that ruined my life. It was even more incredible to hear that “my nation” was responsible for the atrocities and sufferings. I can’t perceive things that way. And I’m probably one of the few.

In many situations it was a curse and a blessing at the same time. It would have been easier to blame, and direct all those negative emotions towards people you consider responsible for your misfortune. However, I haven’t developed that kind of hatred. I interpret happenings in a broader context. This is why I can write these lines without feeling desolate. But, it took almost 20 years.

There are lots of stages in accepting your faith and moving on. If you skip or get stuck in any of them, there’s no help. You can never fully recover.

Shock and disbelief

You’re leaving your home, and all your life behind. People are fleeing from chaos. All of a sudden, you find yourself in a completely new environment. In the “middle” of nothing. No yesterday, no life you led, no tomorrow. No future. Only gloomy reality. Fear, insecurity, misery. Urge to carry on, but don’t know how. Living like in a haze, in a bad dream that must soon pass. Wake up! Wake up! You’re just having a bad dream.

It’s not just a bad dream, it’s a living nightmare

Living in poverty, nothing can remind you of the life you’ve recently lost. You can barely remember how great it was. You didn’t appreciate it enough until you lost everything. People are dying. Your closest ones. This nightmare will never end.

Accepting the reality

There you are. A miserable refugee. Even worse, a refugee who was bereaved of your loved ones. Some are killed, some disappeared and no trace of them. Agony. For years. You live from the help you used to give before to those in need. But, being destitute is easier than being tortured by constant fear for your loved ones. You can’t help it. You suffer your loss, you blame destiny. God, why are you punishing me so hard? Mom help me. Mom’s face looks unpromising.

Growing up before time

An old man although you’re young. You’re never mature enough for such things. But, I was just a child. Grew up too soon. No childhood wishes, no desires. You have to suppress them to prevent further sufferings. If I am punished by this bloody war, why to provoke further sufferings by wanting unattainable.

Redirected train

If you get on a wrong train, every next stop is wrong. I didn’t choose to get on that train, I was pushed inside. And now, every choice you have to make is made out of necessity, not out of your free will. Soon, you stop thinking what you’d like, there’s no chance to choose, you think of the best choice in a given moment, out of scarce ‘opportunities’. It kills your creativity, your true self, your essence. No opportunities, try to invent some. Impossible.

Show must go on

Years have passed. You believe you’ve accepted your ‘new self’. Combined with crushed wishes and unfulfilled dreams. Reborn in a worse version of yourself. But resilient. I know who I was, I know what I wanted. I know who I am indeed. I’m a fighter, and I’m wiser now. Ordinary people look so naive. Even shallow. They know nothing, no big truths life enforced upon them. New friends, eccentric ones, with disturbed lives as well. They’ve been forced to grasp that truth, they’re endowed with the same wisdom, and we can have more than a profane conversation. Ordinary people are too boring, and nothing has been ordinary for too long in my life. Hard to imagine that I will ever again lead an ordinary life, am I able to after all?

Try to mingle

Ten years have passed. Enough. Or not. Nevertheless, it’s time to become part of the mass. Trying hard. It’s not easy, not at all. Perfecting in everything I do, but still feeling strange. Will this feeling ever pass? It did about this period. Connections are made, life seems normal on the surface. Ability to make choices. But, do I know how to make ‘real’ choices instead of ‘forced’ ones? Choices are made, wait to see the outcomes.

Seemingly settled

Fifteen years later, nothing can tell me apart from other, ‘ordinary’ people of my age. I know my truth, I have that ‘inner wisdom’. I don’t know what to do with it, but it’s there. People approach me to ask for advice. I have ‘that’ something to help and reassure them. Compassion, understanding, ability to accept all sorts of feelings, never judging. However trivial or unrealistic the cause may be, if someone is in agony, I can understand. I know how it feels to see no way out.

PTSD or Post-traumatic stress disorder

It’s probably unavoidable. It must catch up on you at some point, and when you least expect it. My family lost direction meanwhile, everybody made their own choices. There was no anchor to hold on. Although already grown up. But, at the time when you naturally need support in making choices, I was left to myself when I most needed it. And now the time has come to make new choices, more serious ones. I got lost. Couldn’t choose direction. And boom! Depression! Real one. Medical condition. All those bottled up emotions had to leak out somewhere. What a hard battle! Being aware of everything, but can’t help myself. Black hole. Lack of energy. Lack of hopes for the future. The feeling that you always have to fight multiple times harder than average persons to produce mediocre results. Because you still lack elementary things. Couldn’t shed that feeling away. I was tired of everything. So tired. If it hadn’t been to war, with such efforts I would be brilliant. Asking myself again why? WHY? Outcast on a lonely island. Living in a dormitory, about to graduate after years of studying in poor conditions, not having family basis, no place to call home.  And, it’s time to plan my future. I’m almost 25. And I don’t know how to carry on, because we are still refugees. God how long are you going to punish me, and for what? Why do I need to feel this way? Give me something to hold on. Please.

Resettlement

New phase again. Graduating from the faculty and reuniting with my family, instead of separating from them. This is the time in life when you naturally leave your family nest to become independent and make your own choices, under the condition that you previously had a solid basis at home. I was deprived of it because of the war. I’m trying to forget how it perverted my life, but I can’t. I am still under its influence.  Now, I’m learning again to live in a family union, finally settled in a new home, our home. After years of being separated, with my own frustrations, with frustrations of my family members. All of us nerve racks. But fighters, never giving up. Oh, it’s so demanding to stay ‘normal’.

Getting back on the track

Whatever you’ve been through, it’s in human nature to survive and strive for more. Ok, I have to invest triple efforts, but I’ve learned it has to be that way. People admired my efforts. I myself didn’t. I just had to, it wasn’t my choice. I am not a person to give up, but many would. I was afraid that I would lose that precious energy for the things that were yet to come. I was still tired but successful in what I did. Average. Finally, I stopped thinking how much I would have had if there had been no war. At least, I didn’t stick out. I probably never had, but now I no longer felt that way.

I’m now wiser, older, and realistic. Moreover, I had no worries over things that troubled most other people. I’d been troubled so much before, I got used to it. I could relieve from the feeling of insecurity and change. Those around me were in panic over ordinary, everyday things and changes.

Light at the end of the tunnel

Two things coincided that helped me erase negative experiences from my ‘previous’ life or lives. I became a mum and got my home. The one I created. My family, the one I made. Such a blessing!

This time, I was truly reborn. I married a man who used to be a refugee too, who lost someone dear to him. Was it a coincidence? I don’t think so. I needed someone who had that kind of understanding, who has been through the same like me. Who knows how it feels to be lost. We struggled harder than many average people, we made something out of nothing. We almost succumbed to the pressure. But we made it.

I love my new life, I enjoy every single second of it. It’s ordinary, at last. I don’t have a dream job, actually only freelance one, twenty-year-old car. Many would be probably desperate with what I have. But I live a life of abundance.  I do have roof over my head and my healthy family inside, and that’s all I need. I am a regular citizen with permanent address.

Sometimes, only sometimes, bad memories loom, out of fear that something bad may happen. At the thought I’m afraid I’d collapse. That’s what the war endowed me with – the fear that everything can change in just one day.

On the other hand, I believe I’m able to enjoy more than other common people. I’m excited about small, simple things. I don’t complain, I don’t hate or blame. I’m blessed! I thank God for my new life.

New life is possible if you let your emotions ‘explode’, if you let them go. The process is painful, never ending, but you need to accept your faith after all. And, everything new you create is your piece of art, a masterpiece you cherish and admire.

I would never choose this wisdom on purpose, but I’ve learned to appreciate it after all.

*This article was written by a journalist Lana Ristic.