The writer is a journalist in Yangon Region who is receiving support from The Kite Tales to write these diaries. 

I noticed recently that I've started having nightmares again, similar to the crazy, scary ones I used to have in the immediate aftermath of the February 2021 coup. At that time, the army and the police used rubber bullets, tear gas, sound bombs, as well as live bullets, to disperse demonstrators who had gathered to show their opposition to military rule. 

While many people in ethnic areas had long experience of this military violence, this was probably the first time that everyone in the country, including those in the former capital Yangon, in towns and in the countryside, experienced together the sounds and fury of these bombs and bullets. 

I was also present at the protests as a reporter and the result was that after I came home and it was time to rest, violence haunted my sleep. I would dream of running in a blind panic, having to hide and fighting back against the soldiers. I later discovered online that many others suffered from similar nightmares.  

Now those anxious, foreboding dreams have returned. Some nights I dream that I'm in a place where there are military clashes and I'm running and hiding as the fighting rages, or I have been left alone and separated from my group in the middle of a battle. In these dreams I am scared. Sometimes, I am crouched in between homes or climbing over walls to get away from soldiers, in places I do not recognise. When I wake up, my whole body is numb and my mind is disturbed.

Actually, I have never been to a liberated area, nor have I ever joined a revolutionary group. My only job has been as a reporter. I can't imagine why I dream of places I've never been.

I wonder about the real refugees who are sheltering in these places and the PDF (People’s Defence Force) youths who are taking part in these battles. I am saddened to think of the countless dreams like these – and the daily realities - that are tormenting them. I wonder how much it would affect the people who were crouching in bomb shelters as military planes bombed them. They must be suffering from traumatic insecurities that are difficult for others to comprehend.Even after the current situation is over, the scars of such trauma will remain. 

I'm a reporter, so I always have my ear on the ground to know what's happening on a daily basis. From the time of the military coup, the news has been of death and destruction. Of battles. Of whole villages being burned down. Of killings. That’s all we hear everyday. 

For example, let's say I am writing an article about the burning of villages, I have to call relevant sources in that area. I repeatedly hear the painful stories of how they had to run for their lives when the army entered the village, how everything they owned burned, how they had to stand and watch their food crops and livestock turned into ash. How much pain must they feel, to have lost everything they have? When I speak to them, I also feel their loss. Their sobs torment me.

The anguished voices of the resistant forces who have lost their comrades in battle, the cries and discomfort of the people whose possessions were lost to flames, the grief and the pain of a father whose son was killed for no reason, the terror of the people fleeing for their lives when their refugee camp was bombed, the agony of the family members whose kin were unjustly arrested. Exposure to these tragedies, even as an observer, has taken its toll. I feel despondent every time I finish an interview.  

Throughout my career as a reporter, I have tried my best not to be emotional. But the truth is that after the military coup, the news has become more emotional than before. I spend days and nights doing this job and I think this is why these dreams are haunting me. 

I have seen and heard of situations where being a journalist puts your family in danger. Groups that support the military, such as Pyu Saw Htee, are talking about killing journalists' families. 

But when after an interview, people tell me that they are grateful for the opportunity to share their stories, I am both sad and happy. At the very least, with this work, I can stand by the people who are oppressed unjustly and help them. I will continue my journey with this mind and this strength. 

So let the nightmares come. I will conquer them. 

The artwork is by an anonymous illustrator who is receiving support from The Kite Tales to produce illustrations.