- THREAD -
I am not #Armenia|n. The war and the unspeakable cruelties my friends in #Artsakh experience are thousands of miles away from me. Yet, the last 2 1/2 months have changed me and have taken their toll on me. Thus, I was off Twitter for over a week now. I'm sorry.

Sadly, stories of death, wars, suffering, deportations and hate are eve present. I grew up with my grandma's story about the end of WWII. I know hundreds of people, personally, who fought wars and shared their stories. My dad is a soldier. Yet, this feeling is different.

All these stories were history. A thing of the past. Even when my own dad cries after another sleepless night full of nightmares about his time in Somalia, I can be strong for him, but don't feel his pain. It's distant and dark shadows of a past.

We all saw kids starving to death in Yemen or Somalia, wars in Iraq, Syria or South Sudan on TV. It's awful and it's making me angry, but it's also distant and we all got perversely used to the suffering. It's horrible to think about, but we don't think about it a lot.

Now, #Artsakh to me was and is different. Every video I saw from this war showed a place or even a person I know. Something or someone dear to me, very personally. I had great times in those places and with people whose smiley are gone.

This isn't about me. Some friends asked me, if #Artsakh is so much on my mind, as I think that I could have hit me last year. No, I'm not afraid of my well-being, suddenly. I just feel the pain much more direct than ever before. It's eating me up from the inside.

I haven't slept for days, if not weeks. I still struggle to sleep. I can barely concentrate, as my first and last thought of the day is "what can I do?". I've tried doing things. I've pro-bono helped at least 5 articles/TV pieces to highlight the horrors...

I've raised well over 2000€ and I've donated a lion share of my own salary to civilians in need.

But with every additional picture of cities full of hate graffiti and with every additional torture video from #Azerbaijan, I realise that I can't do anything.

That's painful. And it must be even worse for my friends in #Artsakh and #Armenia and the diaspora, of course. After all, they are in the centre of a genocidal crosshair, not me. I can't not think about their pain anymore. I want to help them. But I can't.

There are no words to describe the imagery I've seen. There is no way to list all the people I know who perished,are missing or lost their homes. Every single of these tragedy is on my mind, 24/7. My boss, thankfully, allowed me to rest my day job, as I wasn't able to do it.

I've left Twitter for a while now, as I had to reset my brain. I needed a week without beheadings, at least. It didn't work, I'm still the same, naturally. I still feel the same. But I did gather some strength. I was able to he proud of what I've tried to do...

To be humble about the many people who contacted me to try to help as well. It's reassuring me that humanity isn't dead, when this friend from Zimbabwe calls me and asks what he could possibly do, although he does a wealth of issues himself. Thank you

I might not be #Armenia|n and I never experienced war in my life. But I got a better understanding of what this trauma is doing to millions now. And I won't keep quiet about it. Maybe for a week, here or there, but never for long. You all deserve peace, not just absence of war.

So I'm sorry if some of you have felt being let down by me lately. I know you well see the loud silence of the world. Be rest assured, I was just collecting new strength and not looking to escape by turning a blind eye