This Time, Last Year

Photo taken by yours truly @Medina, Saudi Arabia - March 2019

The days are long but the years are short.

Some years are better than others. Some of the "others" you'll never forget because they change the course of your life forever. Last year was that year for me, and I'm still paying the price for it. The year started off hopeful, but quickly dissolved into worry as I dealt with some personal challenges as well as mental health issues that required tests, follow-ups and more appointments; my depression and anxiety flared to levels I'd never experienced. Many days I could hardly get out of bed and I had a general sense of doom.

It's normal to celebrate anniversary; birthdays, weddings and relationship milestones to name a few. Today however, I have a celebration of a different nature; I celebrated the one year anniversary of the worst day of my life. I celebrated this anniversary not by having cake or a party, but by being as alive as I possibly could be the next day. It's been a long process and I'm still not done. I still have bad days, but they're now nowhere near as bad and I can spot the signs and act before I go into a downward spiral. I feel that however it gets bad and I don't have the strength to pull myself out of it. 

It's engulfing, feel like I am loosing control of my mind. My heartbeat so loud I can hear it clearly. I was suffocating, choking, my eyes tearing up, my hands trembling. I was having a hard time breathing, my body shivering, sweating and my limbs are tingling. Trying to scream but the pain won't let me even squeal, fear takes over. I feel like I can see my life coming to an end, losing my bearing, barely hear anything, my thoughts overpower my mind. I feel like I was tied down, barely breathing, seeing, hearing, crying, all because of how the world has thrown me, all because how that certain people have treated me, all because I have give up everything for them yet they step over me

It was epic, one that left a permanent scar on my heart, and has changed me in such profound ways that I sometimes stand back in awe. No one actually sees how the soul in me died that afternoon, not even I had seen how broken this whole chapter would make me. My heart drop to the deepest pit of my body. I don't even know where. Every edge of my heart cuts, every corner twinges with pain and nothing seems to fit back together. I can't barely feel myself.

In looking back, when it occurred, I wept for months. The emotional pain was so great that I felt it physically, quite literally wondering if the pain might kill or cause permanent psychological damage. Being so vulnerable and emotionally raw, I felt my heart opening like I hadn't experienced before. The incident squeezes me as though I was an orange, crushes me as though it were a tractor and cuts sharply as a razor blade. The incident on April 21st 2018 was the most crushing event in my life. It made me see myself as a failure, hide in embarrassment, and cry myself to sleep for months. Through this pain, I come to see myself as rejected, dejected, failed and damaged. I question the meaning of life and if bruised badly enough, even wonder why I'm alive.

The pain was real. The pain in my chest was the same pain experienced if I was physically stabbed as it stimulates the same neutral pathways in my brain. My brain, furthermore, paralleled the same actions as an addict giving up cocaine or nicotine. I felt stagnant, aware that I had to endure this painful emotions, but also worried I might never feel truly better. 

Words will never do justice to the trauma and confusion that ensued. They also fail to explain the enormous complexity of people and relationships. I spent the next months grieving, understanding my role in this narrative and repairing the pain. I spent nights over nights sitting in a corner of my room glueing each piece together with heavy breath and shaking hands. My soul tried to ask me one stormy night - "what's wrong with me?" "Am I that bad?" I try so hard to live through my days with a brave face, when I can't help to think of when my soul would feel at peace as all I want to do is, cause destruction to myself. 

There are times when there are no reasons but I want to kill myself. When joy slowly transforms into depression and I want to hurt myself. There are times when the blue sky seems black and the sounds of people roars into my ears. There are times when I'm so close to suicide, wishing I never was here.

Sometimes a person prays with tears. When the words are missing, Allah knows our hearts

I found myself connecting with people in a much deeper way than I was accustomed to. It gave me strength to accept and forgive people quickly and without judgement. Having lived through the hell of this pain, I was now equipped with empathy and compassion for other people's pain. It's easy to behave as if nothing is wrong, even when you have a mental illness. I was good at holding down my job, cracking jokes, going out just enough that I wasn't seen as a hermit. I could probably have gone on like this forever, living half a life, pretending I was OK with it. But something had broken, and I couldn't do it anymore. 

I wasn't always like this. I wasn't always this goal driven towards happiness. Things happened, and I changed. I wasn't always one to see the good in the bad things that had happened. I remember when it all first started, when I began to feel things I couldnt quite make sense of; I remember the weakness I felt and the way I let that darkness drive me to the very edge. I remember staying awake past midnight, begging Allah for some sanity. I wasn't always strong.

Ya Allah, none understands but You, so allow me the ease. Of getting to Your place of sanctity and ease. It's Janna where I've placed all my hopes in now. Forever keep me with you

I've been in a situation where I thought I would never make it out, but I did Alhamdulillah. I remember the nights I stood in prayers, with my face lowered to the ground, and my tears falling my tiresome eyes without a single sound. I recall how I asked Allah to remove this pain, I recall every weep begging Allah to turn me sane. I recall how Allah listened, although I was already aware. I recall the ways in which my heart ached to be in ALLAH care. I often to go back to those nights, because its those very nights that taught me that I wasn't alone, that Allah was always listening from Your throne. That even if the whole world was to leave my side, it's in sujood and my love for Allah, that my heart could reside. I've lived through it. I've learned from it. I've survived. So whatever it is I am currently going through right now, Allah will get me through that too. 

Allah has purpose for my pain, a reason for my struggles and a reward for my faithfulness. 

Through the healing process, I discovered the power of positive thinking and acceptance. Everybody is different and therefore handles situations in a different ways. The feelings of disappointment and sadness stick with me for a long time, and I strive a lot to finally let go of those feelings. It requires a lot of strength, patience, determination, hope and self-esteem.

I'm at a point in my life where I genuinely want to disappear. I want to work on my life so silently to the point where nobody ever has a clue and leave them unquestioned. I want to keep myself motivated and my head held high even when I cry myself to sleep and my mind is on overdrive half the time. I think about life and if I'll ever make it, I think about it all way too often and the end goal scares me but in a good way I think, I haven't come up with a conclusion when I've always been the first to jump. I've spent far too many days questioning my existence that now I simply want to live without a care of a second opinion from a human that doesn't bring anything on the table. I want to keep shining even when I no longer can see my own light. I want to give so much to the world more than I'll ever receive because I find comfort knowing someone smiling that day because of me. I want to just live. I'm tired of surviving a life that has never been for me.