My trauma, living in defenseless Kyiv
A joint reporter's notebook that documents the changing nature of Russian attacks and why they’ve gotten more devastating as time goes on.
At the bottom of this page: Latest news at this hour
The U.S. Senate passes Graham sanctions against Russia… FSB hardliners playing a more central role in Russia’s politics… Russia puts stake in its largest airport up for sale amid budget deficit… Dismissed defmin pushes to expand Starlink for strikes on Russia… Kim Jong-Un earned $14 billion from his alliance with Russia…
OUR LEAD STORY:
KYIV, Ukraine – When the sound of a blast rips through my head, as though my skull were being crushed with a sledgehammer, it’s already too late.
I leap out of bed before I’m fully awake, grabbing the slippers and things I left by the apartment door the night before in preparation for a quick getaway once the explosions engulf the city. It is too late. Too late to run downstairs. Too late to grab the chair I had planned to take for a night in the shelter. Too late to even throw a shirt over my body. The paralysis hits in the hallway as I count how many times the sky caves in.
My phone keeps lighting up with alerts. I send my loved ones another meme of a cow with the caption, ‘Just wondering how much longer I can endure this,’ to let them know I am still alive. I ask myself this question every time Russians interrupt my sleep with dozens of ballistic missiles. Because the question has already been carved into my mind. I send this stupid cow dozens of times throughout the night.
How much longer can I endure this?
In early July, U.S. President Donald Trump teased the idea of granting Ukraine a license to produce its own Patriot interceptors — the U.S.-made air defense system capable of defending Ukrainian skies against Russian missiles. Weeks later, he reversed course, leaving Ukraine dependent on a dwindling supply of interceptors just as Russia escalated its ballistic missile campaign, especially on the capital.
Russia launched a wartime-record 126 ballistic missiles in July alone, according to The New York Times, and President Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s advisers now warn they are capable of launching close to that number each month. At the same time, Patriot systems have increasingly been diverted to protect U.S. forces in the Middle East amidst America’s war in Iran.
Figures cited in news articles tell you Ukraine is running out of Patriot interceptors in a matter-of-fact manner. But we are here to share with you what cold, faceless numbers can’t: what it actually feels like each night.
Mariana Lastovyria: I’ve never related to ‘Tom and Jerry’ more
“Alisa and I bought tourniquets. Tomorrow we’ll get respirators too,” my neighbor told me. During every attack, she sits beside me near the elevator on the first floor of our building with her 10-year-old daughter, waiting for the explosions to stop. I now only make it there at my own risk — either during the short pauses between attacks or when, after calculating the missile’s speed, I realize I have about 40 seconds to get into the elevator.
I look at her daughter, who is reading aloud from Telegram channels what kind of weapon is flying toward our city. And suddenly, I feel an overwhelming sadness for all of us. Because this 10-year-old girl knows the difference between Zircon missiles and S-300s. Among her fairy-tale books and the toy fox she tucks into her backpack at night, she carries a flashlight and will soon add a respirator, just in case we find ourselves buried under the rubble.
People are no longer thinking about packing passports, documents, or valuables. They are turning to basics: a whistle to call rescuers; a respirator to breathe through dust and smoke after a strike; wet wipes and water to clean yourself.
This month, I have not had a single truly restful night. Either explosions rip you out of sleep, or you lie awake until 3 a.m., waiting for the next attack.
No one is surprised anymore that Russia has weaponized sleep. But being jolted awake by the blast of a ballistic missile every other night adds an entirely new layer of horror. Your body has no chance to brace for the danger, yet it is never given the opportunity to relax and process the trauma either. I feel as though I’m living in a constant state of alert, bolting into the hallway at every sudden noise in the night, even when it’s just a passing car or a train rolling beneath my window.
If I could weigh the amount of exhaustion accumulated over this month, it would outweigh a black hole. And I imagine millions of Ukrainians are carrying the same weight.
I know that these days, news of yet another attack on Kyiv doesn’t get much attention. But I am so frustrated that the validity of our war trauma is now measured by the number of missiles launched at the city. As if 30 ballistic missiles are something we should have learned to accept as normal. As if 20 bodies ripped apart are somehow less tragic than a hundred.
Life in Kyiv now feels like we are under thousands of spotlights — watched, exposed, yet ignored until the picture becomes horrific enough that no one can look away.
Jackie Cole: From the vantage point of an American in Kyiv
If you’re reading this outside of Ukraine, and especially if you have a loved one inside the country, the nights that make international headlines are likely etched into your brain. Maybe you remember Tuesday night of last week, when Russia launched the deadliest strike on Kyiv this year. Indeed, it’s often the superlatives that make headlines. The largest-ever attack over a 24-hour period or the most drones used in a single night.
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“U stayin safe over there?” a friend texted the day after a record number of Kyiv residents flooded the metro. “Reading about these threats from Russia.”
He wasn’t wrong to worry. I will never acclimate, as some said I would, to hiding underground while missiles rain down and take civilian lives, steal childhoods, and chip away at the sanity of those lucky enough to survive.
But, living in Kyiv for a few months, I’ve also learned that the shorter, “smaller” attacks carve a different kind of emotional scar. Those headline-making nights are also the ones Ukraine and its allies have intelligence to predict. Hours before the first launch, I plug in a portable battery, pack water and a chocolate bar, and sleep in proper pajamas for the public shelter nearby. Yes, the dread builds long before the missiles arrive, but it’s a productive kind of dread when you’re privileged enough to have time, and a shelter, to prepare.
Back in May, on a night without advanced warning of a large-scale combined attack, a siren at 3 a.m. often blended into the background of a vivid dream. I’d squint my eyes open just enough to scroll through Telegram and learn which Russian weapons were flying and in which direction. I had time to understand the threat and act which, sometimes, meant rolling over and dozing back to sleep.
Also, back then, the crescendo of a siren was often coupled with strangely comforting ‘booms,’ a signal that Ukrainian air defenses were at work to keep us safe.
Two months later, ballistic missiles, once relatively rare and mostly used to target energy infrastructure, became commonplace in Kyiv.
The warning time disappeared with the defenses. Now, when 30 ballistic missiles streak toward the capital without the usual heads-up of a drone barrage to first overwhelm Ukraine’s interceptors, there may be only seconds of warning, if any at all. With no time to reach shelter, I race to the hallway and crouch between the two walls with my roommate, singing Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen to drown out the blasts shaking our bedroom doors.
Mariana Stadnyk: Who’s faster, me or the missile?
Each time there is a ballistic attack I am faced with a dilemma: Should I run to the shelter or stay at home since the missiles are already on their way? If a missile hits my home, I will likely die. If a missile hits nearby while I’m outside, I will also likely die.
It is much more dangerous to be outside, running to shelter during the attack — there’s nothing to stop shrapnel and debris from flying towards you. During Russia’s attack on August 1, seven people died while trying to get to a shelter less than 50 meters from their house.
Yet I feel much safer in the shelter. So when there are no warnings of new missiles, I run out.
“Will I be faster than the next missile or is the missile faster than me?” I try to calculate each time before exiting my apartment building.
I know that playing a racing game against a missile isn’t the wisest. There was one time when the missile was faster: I heard a loud click and an even louder explosion while I was outside and nothing could protect me. I am lucky the missile didn’t hit nearby.
A building or a basic shelter (like basements, ground-floor areas of buildings, underground parking garages and underground walkways) can save you from debris, but not from a direct hit.
In Kyiv, out of more than 4,300 registered protective structures, only 512 are legally classified as shelters: sealed structures designed for people to stay in for an extended period of time in the event of an emergency. However, some of them are accessible only to certain categories of citizens, like employees of specific enterprises. The school basement where I usually stay during the attacks is a basic shelter — not the best option — but a wave of relief still washes over me every time I run down the stairs.
This sprint towards the shelter, not the sound of explosions — as some may think — is the scariest part of the attack for me. Although my body reacts to explosions — my heart races and I shudder with every new sound — they actually calm me down. When you hear an explosion, it means that it’s over: the missile hit somewhere else, but I’m safe.
Interested in more coverage about the mental state of our team during wartime? Take a look at these stories:
How mothers explain war to our children
We’re approaching our breaking point
Overnight in the subway, thanks to Russian bombings
Editor’s Note:
You’ve likely seen the headlines — Ukraine is out of Patriot interceptors. Russia has begun to play a game of ballistic war, and Ukraine has no goalie. Living with this constant risk is exhausting.
To prevent burnout and keep bringing you stories from the ground, The Counteroffensive team is taking a one-week break to recharge. We won’t be publishing on our regular schedule, but we’re monitoring the news closely and will step back in if anything urgent breaks.
Thank you for understanding and sticking with us. See you in a week!
THE LATEST NEWS AT THIS HOUR:
By: Oleksandra Poda
Good morning to readers; Kyiv remains in Ukrainian hands.
THE U.S. SENATE PASSES GRAHAM SANCTIONS AGAINST RUSSIA: On August 7, the U.S. Senate passed the “Lindsey O. Graham Sanctioning Russia and Iran Act of 2026” by a vote of 86 to 11 — a sweeping piece of legislation introducing sanctions against Russia and significantly increasing pressure on countries that purchase Russian energy. Under the bill, the five largest buyers of Russian oil and gas could face tariffs of up to 100% on their imports to the United States.
The bill now awaits consideration by the House of Representatives, which returns from recess in September.
FSB HARDLINERS PLAYING A MORE CENTRAL ROLE IN RUSSIA’S POLITICS: According to Bloomberg, citing sources close to the Kremlin, Putin is increasingly sidelining Russia’s economic and political advisers in favor of FSB hardliners. The FSB has gained near-unlimited power to open criminal cases against virtually anyone, with sources saying “no one knows who they’ll come for next.”
RUSSIA PUTS STAKE IN ITS LARGEST AIRPORT UP FOR SALE AMID BUDGET DEFICIT: On August 6, Putin signed a decree removing Sheremetyevo International Airport from Russia’s list of strategic enterprises. This move allowed for the sale of the state’s 30.4% stake to Russian buyers. The state still has a “golden share” which gives the state control over management decisions.
Sheremetyevo is Russia’s largest airport, with a capacity of 87 million passengers per year. Despite sanctions and the closure of international air routes, the airport remains profitable.
The move comes as Russia finds itself amid a serious budget deficit, which was 2.5% of GDP in the first half of 2026.
DISMISSED DEFMIN PUSHES TO EXPAND STARLINK FOR STRIKES ON RUSSIA: After his dismissal, former Defense Minister Mykhailo Fedorov has continued pushing Elon Musk through informal channels to grant Ukraine expanded Starlink capabilities, specifically to target Russian ballistic missile systems, The Atlantic reported. Musk has refused, arguing that the risk of provoking further Russian escalation is too high.
Zelenskyy also raised the Starlink issue directly with Trump during their July 28 meeting at the White House, but Trump did not agree to intervene.
KIM JONG-UN EARNED $14 BILLION FROM HIS ALLIANCE WITH RUSSIA: According to Bloomberg, North Korea received up to $22 billion in foreign revenue between 2022 and 2025 — nearly four times more than in the previous four years. Over 90% of this revenue, approximately $14 billion, came from military cooperation with Russia, including the supply of ammunition, ballistic missiles, and manpower.
These funds allowed North Korea to finance its nuclear and missile programs and saturate the domestic market with consumer goods for the first time in a decade.
CAT OF CONFLICT:
Compot the cat is not a big fan of heat waves, as you can see by his facial expression.
Stay safe out there!
Best,
Jackie, Mariana and Mariana
 | A guest post by
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Take care of yourselves and have a restful time off!
I know people who lived through the Luftwaffa Blitz in 1940/41. They had been issued with sufficient galvanised iron panels to dig a shelter in their back garden. They spent every night there, in a six feet wide by 12 feet long hole in the ground covered by the galvanised steel. They ran an electric cable from the house to enable them to make tea. Husband, wife and two children, aged three and one year old spent every night for two years in the shelter.