BEIRUT (AP) – Joana Dagher was lying unconscious and bleeding from a pile of rubble in her apartment after the massive explosion of 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 his damaged car and the help of her sisters during the chaos in the overwhelmed hospital.
But Dagher doesn’t remember any of this: the 33-year-old mother of two lost her memory for two whole months from the trauma she suffered in the blast, including a concussion and brain damage.
“I lost my life on August 4,” Dagher said. “I lost my house, I lost my memory, I lost two friends,” she added, referring to neighbors killed in the blast. “I lost my mental health and that’s how I lost everything.”
Beirut explosion, which killed more than 200 people and injured more than 6,000, caused even greater damage to the mental health of those who experienced it.
Dagher gradually regained his memory. But another kind of pain persists.
Although the therapy is helping now, she said she no longer feels the same. Dagher is usually a calm and independent person, said her sister Jihane. Now, she is experiencing outbursts of anger and stress, stopping emotionally and sometimes becoming aggressive – all signs of a post-traumatic stress disorder, according to experts.
“The last 6 months have been a purgatory,” Jihane said. “When you see someone you love suffer so much, everyone suffers with him, you are helpless.”
The blast was caused by a fire that ignited nearly 3,000 tons of ammonium nitrate stored in a port warehouse. One of the largest non-nuclear explosions ever recorded, the force broke into the city, sending people flying through the rooms and cutting them with flying glass.. The windows and doors were blown a few kilometers away from the epicenter.
Even in a country that has experienced many wars and bombings, never before have so many people – tens of thousands – directly experienced the same traumatic event at the same time.
It came in addition to the stress that the Lebanese were already feeling due to the multiple crises, including an unprecedented economic crisis, the coronavirus pandemic and a sense of helplessness after nationwide protests against corruption that failed to achieve their goals.
“There is a population with very high levels of anxiety and worry,” said Mia Atwi, a psychologist and president of Embrace, an organization that works to raise awareness and support mental health. “There is a low mood that limits clinical depression for the majority of the population.”
The demand for therapists has increased, which makes it difficult to find treatment, especially since many qualified experts are leaving the country.
Embrace has expanded its clinic after the explosion and still has a waiting list of 60 people. Since the explosion, it has provided support for 750 people. Most face post-explosive symptoms, depression and anxiety, Atwi said. On Embrace’s helpline, 67% of August phone calls came from people in emotional distress, and 28% had suicidal thoughts.
The blast left mental injuries even in those he did not physically injure.
Najla Fadel, 33, was miraculously scratch-free when the blast shattered the glass windows of her home, seriously injuring her child’s babysitter. In the last months of her pregnancy with her second child, Fadel carried the bleeding woman alone.
He has been battling nightmares ever since. He often wakes up, his heart pounding, thinking the explosion has happened again.
“I jump at any sound and start looking for shelter,” she says.
The worst, she said, is the storms and the sound of Israeli warplanes that regularly violate and fly down Lebanon’s airspace.
“A few nights ago, when the planes were flying over Beirut, I slept in the corridor,” she said. “That way, I’m halfway between my kids’ room, they can grab them faster, and they can run just in case.”
Fadel saw a therapist for a while. Many others do not receive help.
“There are a lot of people who neglect their mental health or don’t know what to do,” said Souraya Frem, president and co-founder of Cenacle De Lumiere, an organization that, after the blast, began offering free mental health support in Beirut. .
“People are struggling with poverty, how to get to the end, and so they don’t think mental health is a priority,” Frem said.
From Perth, Australia, where she moved after the explosion, Sarah Copland said she saw two therapists to deal with her loss.
In the explosion, a piece of glass tore through the small chest of her 2-year-old son, Isaac, ending his short life. That day, she said, her life stopped.
“My last picture of my little boy is something a mother should never see,” she said. “That comes to mind when I least expect it – we’ll do something and it will come. It is very painful. ”
At the time, Copland was a UN employee in Beirut. Thousands of miles from Lebanon, the memory haunts her.
“The sight or sound of broken glass gives me anxiety,” she said. “When I go to bed at night, I hear the wind on the windows and that scares me. I freeze because it reminds me of the desired sound when the explosion came through our windows. ”
Ethan, Copland’s 2-month-old son, keeps her, she says, but the pain is deep. “Hearing the children scream, even though he’s excited, takes me back to the hospital, to Isaac, and to the children screaming in pain.”
Now, in a temporary apartment outside Beirut, Joana Dagher has decided to stay in Lebanon, despite the thousands leaving.
“I want to be close to those I love, to my family and I will not let those politicians take me away from home or my country, I will stay here to see justice,” she said.
But like most survivors of that terrible day, there is a fear that never leaves her. “The fear of losing those I love is stronger than ever.”