SeroTonyX

you’re not in the wrong, even if more than one of your family members saying you’re in the wrong.

especially if more people actively taking your side, like your friends, partners, ect.

abusive family will gaslight you. it’s their intention, to you to think “they’re both saying i’m bad… maybe i am bad”.

don’t. listen. to. this. crap.

they want to make you obedient and you to do everything they say.

find the safe space and stay strong.

i believe in you.

I am Inas, a mother of two young children: Muhammad, 7 years old, and Hala, 5 years old. They should have been living their childhood like all children—safe and warm in the embrace of their father. But the war has stolen that dream from us😭😭😭

Six months ago, my husband Anas, a kind-hearted man who endured a life of poverty, was killed by a random shell while on his way to work as a taxi driver. Since that tragic day, I’ve been left to carry the unbearable weight of life alone.

I held a diploma in international secretarial studies and was about to start a job to help support my family. But the war shattered not only our home but also my hopes and dreams. We’ve been displaced six times and now live in a tent that offers no shelter from the bitter cold or the ever-looming fear.

My young children face relentless hunger that weakens their fragile bodies and a cold that knows no mercy for their small hearts. Each day, their cries for warmth and food grow louder, and each day, I feel more helpless to provide them with even the basics of life💔😭😭

I appeal to your humanity, to your compassion. We need your help to survive, to find a safe shelter, and to feed my children. Your generosity could be the reason Muhammad and Hala continue to live and find hope amidst this darkness🥹

Please, help me keep the light of these innocent children from being extinguished by this cruel world

Donation Link

The world says the war is “over,” but tell me how is it over when my mother still wakes up gasping for breath? When every night I pray she survives until morning because I can’t afford the device that keeps her heart alive?

We lost our home. We lost everything. And now I’m watching the person who gave me life slowly fade in front of me —because we have nothing left but hope.

She needs a new heart device — $35,000 — to live. I’m begging you: don’t scroll past this like it’s just another post. Please donate, reblog, or share anything. Your act of kindness could literally save a life tonight.

hmm.. lars… you’ll have to forgive me it’s 5am and this isn’t my best, maybe i’ll draw him better one day ✌️

Hello, my name is Nadin. I’m from Gaza. I’m a graphic design graduate, a wife—and now, a mother.

I finished my design studies just before the war began. I had dreams of starting a small studio, of creating art that told stories. I used to think about colors and fonts and the future.

Then, the war came. And the future became something we tried to hold onto, moment by moment.

On October 22, 2023, I learned I was pregnant when a missile destroyed my husband’s family home, killing 25 members—his mother, siblings, nieces and nephews—entire branches of our family in seconds.

We were displaced twice. Everything was gone—home, safety, routine, rest.

A few weeks later, I gave birth to our daughter. There was no crib, no celebration—not even stillness. But she arrived, quietly and beautifully. In her eyes I saw something I hadn’t felt in weeks: life that still wanted to grow.

Now, our days are shaped by decisions that could dismantle the future we are trying to build together.

Today, Israel’s government is discussing plans for a full military occupation of the Gaza Strip, including Gaza City and southern regions. The stated aim: to eliminate Hamas and later hand governing control to allied Arab forces—not Israel—but with no clear path to peace or normalcy.

The humanitarian fallout is devastating. More than 61,000 Palestinians have died in this war; hunger and malnutrition are rising sharply. Hospitals in north Gaza have shut down, and 193 people have now died of starvation, nearly half of them children.

Aid remains blocked, water is scarce, and many risk dying of hunger or disease long before future promises arrive.

We Don’t Know What Comes Next There’s no clear path forward—only uncertainty for our daughter’s life and our ability to survive another day.

How You Can Help I’m asking for support—not for comfort, but for survival:

Help us meet basic needs so we can breathe, heal, and preserve a world for our daughter.

Support us as I try to stand again on my own feet—even a glimmer of stability matters.