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Clare Dubois's picture
August 31, 2022
by Clare Dubois

My mind has sprung a leak.

I'm on a long media fast - trying to stay off and away from anything that removes me from the present moment as I try to heal from burn out, but bits show up when I pick up my phone.

Pakistan. Oh my God. I'm so so sorry....overwhelmed actually and thinking in circles.

What to do? The scale, the scale, the scale...the likelihood that this could become a new norm as our beloved planet's ability to regulate where rainfall is distributed, starts to fail completely and it's major drought here and deluge there - wherever 'here' and 'there' are going to be (which is becoming anywhere and everywhere.)

We think it's bad now but we're right at the beginning of what we've consciously set up for ourselves when it comes to climate change. This is the scale I've been fearing, and now it's here I literally can't get my head around it.

75% of the country flood affected. 33 million people displaced.

33 million.

Where do 33 million people go when there is no shelter, no clean water or food, sewage and god knows what covering everything? Where is comfort in that living hell that we are all utterly unprepared for?

Millions of homes destroyed. Over 3500 miles of roads gone. Gone. Over a thousand dead - but that number will rise with cholera and the impossible suffering they are now living in with no end in sight.

Mark and I sat up in bed last night trying to take this in, trying to put ourselves in that situation, taking journeys down social and ecological rabbit holes. The overwhelming enormity of damage to electrical and water infrastructure, the sewage and disease, the loss of basic survival needs, the competition for aid and the desperation and fear. Then the stuff you don't think about - like the millions of destroyed cars and roads - no ability to just 'get out' - no quick fix anywhere. All so difficult in a country that now has to rebuild.

Then the millions of farm animals and livelihoods swept away, then the vast loss of biodiversity and soil swept away, the trash swept away, the poisons and plastics in the oceans....on and on we went. My mind literally couldn't manage it. It still can't. Yet.

Then worst of all. How do you rebuild knowing that this or worse could happen again with monsoon next year, or the year after?

This is the worst form of climate PTSD - certainly...

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