Beirut (AP) – Joana Dagher lay unconscious and hemorrhaging under a pile of rubble in her apartment after the heavy explosion in the port of Beirut in August, on the verge of death.
She survived because of the courage of her husband who took her out, the kindness of a stranger who transported her in her damaged car and the help of her sisters during the chaos in the crowded hospital.
But Dagher doesn’t remember any of this: the mother of two, 33, lost her memory for two whole months with the trauma she suffered from the explosion, including a brain injury and brain injuries.
“I lost my life on August 4,” said Dagher. “I lost my home, I lost my memory, I lost two friends,” she added, referring to the neighbors killed in the explosion. “I lost my mental health, so I lost everything.”
The Beirut explosion, which killed more than 200 people and injured more than 6,000, caused wounds on an even greater scale in the mental health of those who lived it.
Dagher is gradually recovering his memory. But another type of pain persists.
Although therapy now helps, she said she no longer feels the same. Dagher is generally a calm and independent person, said his sister Jihane. Now she experiences outbursts of anger and stress, turning off emotionally and sometimes becoming aggressive – all signs of post-traumatic stress disorder, according to experts.
“The past 6 months have been purgatory,” said Jihane. “When you see someone you love suffering so much, everyone suffers from him, you are helpless.”
The explosion was caused by a fire that ignited about 3,000 tons of ammonium nitrate stored in a port warehouse. One of the biggest non-nuclear explosions ever recorded, the force tore through the city, sending people flying across rooms and cutting them off with flying glass. Windows and doors exploded miles away from the epicenter.
Even in a country that has seen many wars and bombings, never have so many people – tens of thousands – directly experienced the same traumatic event at the same time.
This came in addition to the stress Lebanese were already experiencing due to multiple crises, including an unprecedented economic collapse, the coronavirus pandemic and a feeling of helplessness after protests across the country against corruption that failed to achieve their goals.
“There are very high levels of anxiety and concern in the population,” said Mia Atwi, a psychologist and president of Embrace, an organization that works with mental health awareness and support. “There is a low mood that borders on clinical depression for the majority of the population.”
Demand for therapists has increased, making it difficult to find treatment, especially as many qualified specialists are leaving the country.
Embrace expanded its clinic after the explosion and still has a waiting list of 60 people. Provided support to 750 people since the explosion. Most are experiencing post-explosion symptoms, depression and anxiety, said Atwi. In the Embrace helpline, 67% of the calls since August are from people in emotional distress and 28% had thoughts of suicide.
The explosion left mental wounds even in those it didn’t hurt physically.
Najla Fadel, 33, was miraculously scratched when the explosion shattered her home’s glass windows, seriously injuring her son’s nanny. In the final months of her second son’s pregnancy, Fadel transported the bleeding woman to the hospital alone.
Since then, she has struggled with nightmares. She always wakes up, with a racing heart, thinking that the explosion has happened again.
“I jump with any sound and start looking for shelter,” she says.
The worst, she said, are the storms and the sound of Israeli warplanes that regularly violate and fly low in Lebanon’s airspace.
“A few nights ago, when the planes flew over Beirut, I slept in the hall,” she said. “So, I’m halfway to my kids’ room, I can grab them faster and run for the case.”
Fadel consulted a therapist for a while. Many others do not get help.
“There are too many people neglecting their mental health or they don’t know what to do,” said Souraya Frem, president and co-founder of Cenacle De Lumiere, an organization that after the explosion started offering free mental health support in Beirut.
“People are struggling with poverty, how to survive, and so they don’t see mental health as a priority,” said Frem.
From Perth, Australia, where she moved after the explosion, Sarah Copland said she has consulted two therapists to deal with her loss.
In the explosion, a shard of glass tore at the tiny chest of his 2-year-old son, Isaac, ending his short life. That day, she said, her life stopped.
“My last image of my son is something that a mother should never see,” she said. “It comes to my mind when I least expect it – we’re going to do something and it happens. It is very distressing. ”
At the time, Copland was a UN official in Beirut. Thousands of kilometers from Lebanon, memory haunts you.
“The sight or sound of broken glass makes me anxious,” she said. “Lying in bed at night, I hear the wind hitting the windows and it really scares me. I freeze because it reminds me of the howling sound when the explosion came through our windows. ”
Copland’s 2-month-old son Ethan keeps her going, she said, but the pain is deep. “Hearing the screams of children, even with joy, takes me back to the hospital, to Isaac and to the children’s screams of pain”.
Now in a temporary apartment outside Beirut, Joana Dagher decided to stay in Lebanon, despite the thousands who are leaving.
“I want to be close to the one I love, my family and I will not let these politicians take me from my home or my country, I will stay here to see justice,” she said.
But, like most survivors of that horrible day, there is a fear that never leaves. “The fear of losing those I love is stronger than ever.”