I think this little post will explain why I can't imagine, or sympathize as much as I want to.
The people living in this camps were in an unbearable situation. They literally had no rites. Upon entering the camp they were all made to look the same and given numbers - so that one would only be different from your neighbour by the fact that you had a different digit. It's just a position in which you have no hope. Every single day you don't want to wake up because you know that nothing good is going to happen to you that day. It doesn't matter if it rains, snows or is sunny.
When I fall asleep every night I find that my mind shifts to things that I wish to dream about, or that I hope will happen to me in the future, and I find myself thinking of comfortable feelings...rainbows, puppies, and etc. What did these people dream of before they fell asleep - boy I hope I get food tomorrow, or I hope that I don't get hit tomorrow.
Everything that makes people human spirit wise was gone from this camp, and this was all done deliberately.
You are made to always be alone - but never alone. You were crowded into bunks, three or four people to a bed made for one. Talking among prisoners was probably not allowed in front of the guards, and so you were stuck with your thoughts all day. I mentioned in one of the previous posts that one of the punishments was being alone in a box. I would actually go crazy. What can you think about for that long. And you have no mental stimulation to keep you active. You know how sometimes you overreact to something and your train of thought goes super crazy. Imagine dealing with that for four months. I feel like in that situation you just simply question everything. Studies have shown (I'm not making this up despite the way I started this sentence) that after 15 minutes alone you start to show signs of mental weakening. People need stimulation to keep their brain active.
I imagine that a common feeling among prisoners was that of apathy and restrained anger. There were so many of them, but everything was taken away from them, and they became slaves to the state which was in the form of prison guards. They were there solely to serve. They were no longer there for themselves. They couldn't go as they pleased. They had no choice in anything, except you can die now or later. Rumors I feel were also a huge part of the camp life which likely led to some form of hope. These tiny glimmers of a saviour coming to rescue them perhaps was something that drove hope of survivors. Or maybe they felt that staying alive was one way they could defy their captors.
Many people committed suicide by running and jumping into the electric barbed wire fences. I really don't know if it is worse to live through this, or die early. Often we consider suicide the way out for people that are to weak to face the world. But I know this is a little weird, we can learn from harry potter that there are worse things than death. They are no longer living in fear every day.
These people are likely so desensitized from seeing so much tragedy around them that being alive or dead doesn't make a real difference for them. Every morning for role call the dead bodies needed to be brought out so that all could be accounted for, but everyone was probably just used to it.
Perhaps I am dehumanizing these people too much by saying they didn't have feelings - but it's probably just something that everyone eventually got used to. If you don't care - nothing matters anymore.
But there are stories of hope, of prisoners bonding together. I wonder what the biggest thing keeping the prisoners from actually turning on the guards was. While they were still strong they should have turned on the guards. If I knew that I was going to die anyways I think that I'd be willing to go for it. The inmates vastly outnumbered the guards. It's nice to know however that they were able to bond int heir hatred, and I think there are many untold stories of people not competing with each other for resources, but lending help to a fellow brother.
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