My grandfather sat in the yard confused and silent, and my husband walked around completely stunned. And I didn't know what to do next, I couldn't speak to anyone because of the poor connection. There was a dead silence around me after the shelling.

Since I have realized that I lost Mariupol, I don't miss Kharkiv. And I have also realized what roots mean. You can dislike the city where you were born, but the roots still give you their impulses. And you will never confuse what you have lost when you lose it.

The shelling wouldn't stop: when I went outside, my ears popped. The temperature was -8°C... The military guy called me again to ask where to pick us up, and then the shooting started on the other end of the line. I could hear him swearing, and the connection went off…

I carried 20 guinea pigs from Sloviansk to Kharkiv. There was no public transport then, the bridges were destroyed. My dad drove us to Barvinkove, and from there a shuttle bus went to Kharkiv. I took a plasma box, made shelves for the pigs and they sat there like sprats — there was no other option. Then they got out, and I had to catch them on the bus.

I have not come to terms with the fact that my house continues to be shelled. But I'm ready to go back to Izium. And it doesn't matter what it looks like. I'll be fine, spend a few years there, do something. The main thing is that it should be territory under the control of Ukraine. The way home for me will not be blocked by the IDP certificate.

It took us a while to adapt to life. The emotional state was a strange one. Work had kept us distracted from all the stress of the war, and we felt a lot of fatigue. And when we arrived and were able to exhale a bit, the stress came back like a spring. Everything that we experienced during the three weeks of volunteering came crashing down, and we could not do anything. Going to a store became incredibly difficult, and speaking to people  — even more so.