Karin, psychologist : “Whenever the sky erupts in flames, it takes time for me to reclaim my role as therapist…”
Karin, psychologist : “Whenever the sky erupts in flames, it takes time for me to reclaim my role as therapist…”
Karin Keydar, clinical psychologist residing mere kilometers from Gaza’s shadowed border, navigates a daily rhythm of dread and defiant vitality. The Levant blazes anew. America and Israel unleash their fury. Tehran counters with a barrage of missiles and drones raining upon Israel and Gulf realms. In Ashkelon’s southern embrace, sirens pierce the air once more, their wail ushering the thunder of blasts and the chill of terror into every hearth.
Karin Keydar (*) tends to adults and probes the enigmas of trauma therapy. Her home harbors the « mamad » — that armored sanctum etched into family lore.
“That morning dawned with a shrill cry. Phones shuddered under the Home Front Command’s decree: ‘Huddle by your shelter.’ We bolted the steel door, breath held in communal hush. Soon, word arrived: a military thrust underway. Two hours on, Iranian warheads scarred the heavens. Our city escaped unscathed, yet Tel Aviv’s footage seared the soul — a missile carving ruin through a sleeping neighborhood. Such visions draw the abyss perilously near.”
Solitude of a mother at war’s edge
“Yehuda, my husband, commands as reserve officer and company head. Since October 7, he’s logged over 300 days in the fray — North, then Gaza. For me, it’s a labyrinth of solitude, emblematic of Israel’s hidden legions: ‘wives and kin of reservists,’ a tribe unto itself. Purim that day promised revelry; costumes draped in anticipation, children alight with joy. Then sirens shattered the mirth. Festivity folded into the bunker’s stifled vigil.”
Therapist amid the fracture
“Whenever the sky erupts in flames, it takes time for me to reclaim my role as therapist. My patients dwell border-close; some mourn homes razed, kin vanished, nights forever fractured. We tend wounds without horizon — raw, relentless. Trauma here pulses endlessly, flaring with each salvo, each headline’s glare. My trial as healer? I stand not aloof but immersed — sirens my chorus too, my own fledglings to safe haven. This mutual fragility reshapes the consulting room, demanding unyielding guardianship of borders and the self’s fragile flame.”
War’s shadow, resilience’s spark
“Since Iran’s Supreme Guide, Ali Khamenei, slipped into dust, the spirals unchecked. Whispers abound that it props Netanyahu’s throne of survival. Yet nationwide, I feel a countercurrent — spurning venom, courting whispers of accord, however frail. Peace? Not tomorrow. But mending? Yes. Each hand extended over a fist charts a divergent dawn.”
In the hush after sirens
“Resilience wears no fanfare here, no caped heroism. It whispers, teeters at times. Yet persists — in the quiet vow to embrace life anew, though trust lies in shards.”
Gathered by Jean-Claude Djian
*Karin Keydar, PhD, clinical psychologist and supervisor, specializes in adults, delving into psychotherapy, PTSD, anxiety, OCD, and the ache of isolation. From Ashkelon — Gaza a scant ten kilometers south — she cherishes husband and two children.
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