It Won’t Last

Even The NY Times, a notoriously anti-Israel paper, has to admit every so often, that hamas is horrible, they are terrorists and what happened in Israel is horrendous. Still, the paper cranks out endless articles about damage – personal and property – in Gaza and blames Israel. That’s like saying Ukraine is at fault for being invaded by Russia.

After 9/11, the United States blew up two countries, Iraq and Afghanistan. We were given excuses. Rescue Christian missionaries. Find weapons of mass destruction. Make money for Halliburton. But no one blamed the United States for retaliating against a vicious terrorist attack. The United States sent an elite team into Pakistan and killed Osama bin Laden. But all of that is okay. If you believe what the United States has done is permissible and righteous, you can’t criticize Israel for retaliating against a terrorist attack orchestrated by a deranged man who says his purpose is to wipe out Israel and kill Jews.

We’re having a semester break right now. I don’t have to worry about what the hate criminal will do next. I don’t have to wonder if I’m safe on campus. Actually, I never have to wonder that. I’m not safe on campus. I don’t have to worry about surviving a physical attack long enough for the police to arrive. I don’t have to check my pockets to make sure I have my pepper gel and stun gun before getting into the car to drive to school because we’re having a semester break. This more or less calm won’t last. It will disappear the instant I park on campus when. the spring semester starts.

During this uneasy time out, I’m battling bone-crushing depression. I have to force myself to brush my teeth. I have to force myself to take a shower. I have to force myself to put on clean underwear. Every few days, I have to take a double dose of my antidepressant in order to function for a couple days. I can’t keep taking a double dose because after two, or at best three, days, I become a zombie. I have jewelry photographed, but I haven’t found the energy to list the jewelry in my on-line store http://www.DebThumanArt.com. I have two bras half made, but I don’t have the energy to finish them. At least I’m not suicidal, which is the happiest thing I can say.

I’ve been thinking about what I want to paint in the spring semester. Frida Kahlo said she wasn’t a surrealist; she painted her own reality. I’ll be painting my own reality. It won’t be pretty art. My art never is.

This is the sketch for a series of self portraits I want to paint. I have no mouth because no one in academic administration hears me. I’m alone. There is no chapter of Hillel. There is no chapter of Chabad. The Anti-Defamation League is spread so thin, they don’t have the resources to help me. I’m alone, scared, armed and voiceless. I have to decide if I want to keep the painting flat like the sketch, or if I want to give some dimension to the face and shoulders. I’ve been considering making the sketch into a quilt, but I’m so far behind on sewing, I am worried I’d never get it finished.

Am Yisrael Chai

The People of Israel Live