I’m Sick and Tired of Writing about the Israeli War

I’m a compulsive writer. I’ve always admitted it. But ever since October 7, I can’t stop writing about the massacre and the war. And yet--

I’m sick of writing about burnt babies.

I worry if and how hostages will be released.

I worry whether Hezbollah will strike out.

I worry about my friends who live in Israel.

I’m sick of writing about the barbarians at Israel’s gates.

I’m sick thinking about the number of people who will ultimately die.

I’m sick with worry about will happen when the war is over.

I’m sick with worry whether Netanyahu may yield to outside pressures.

I worry how many children will suffer psychologically after the war.

I worry how Israel will survive economically.

I’m sick with worry about how anti-Semitism will continue to emerge in our country.

I’m sick in my heart about the people who have allowed themselves to be brainwashed about Hamas.

I’m sick that so many people refuse to learn the truth about the situation in Israel.

I’m sick that so many are condemning all Jews, not just Israelis.

And I try not to let this “sickness” take over my everyday life. I have other thoughts and activities, but the war hangs over me like a dark cloud. I know that worry is an unproductive emotion, but I can't seem to break free from it.

It’s difficult to let it go. I try to think of other topics to write about. Their significance seems to pale in comparison to the war. Chastising Republicans, criticizing Biden, reading about neo-Marxists do not put me in a good frame of mind.

Surprisingly, though, I’m bearing up pretty well. I enjoyed doing early cooking with my husband today. Looking at the old recipes that I used to prepare with my Mom made me smile. Jerry and I each have our favorite dishes that we prepare: I make homemade cranberry sauce and the early prep for the stuffing; Jerry makes the mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie. We both know when to jump in to help the other. It is enormously satisfying and comforting. We finished with no mishaps (unless you describe the sticky kitchen floor).

But that’s all done for now. The lanai has been swept, the kitchen floor has been washed in preparation for the bigger mess tomorrow, and I’m looking forward to the joy we will be sharing with others; the table has been set with colorful placemats and dishes.

And the war creeps back into my psyche. I don’t know if I actually want to rid myself of it anyway. I choose to be attentive to what is happening in Israel, what decisions are being made, lies that are being told, lives that are cut short. I want to think my thoughts are an ongoing prayer.

Others will write about the other topics that need to be read.

If people get tired of my continual writing about Israel, they aren’t obligated to read what I’ve written.

But I hope they will understand.