Before I Go

I despised myself every time I thought of death. Not in that way, but in a “I don’t want to be in this world anymore” way.

Some days started off just fine until you accidentally slipped and fell into that black goo once more, and today’s a lot like that. It’s dark, and hauntingly miserable down here. The more you tried to bring yourself out, the more unpleasant memories started to play before you. It’s the most painful flashback if death was to follow.

I still look for reasons to keep living and to keep going, and only God knows how exhausting this has been for me. To survive a day without falling apart.

Is it embarrassing for someone to admit that she has no control for when depression comes knocking? That she gets so easily consumed by everything? That it’s hard for her to endure the pain of everything she’s lost. A family member, a friend, a lover… her childhood.

So I collapsed on to my bed, at the mere thoughts of “I don’t want to live anymore, I’m tired, please take me away,” then I stared at the ceiling, drowning in tears, unable to move as I saw everything before me. Heaviness, misery and loneliness were winning, but I picked myself up and prayed.

I came to learn that Depression has nothing to do with your Imaan. Your imaan can only be measured by God. It’s not as easy as telling someone to pray more just so their depression would disappear. Depression doesn’t go away. Prayers help to calm and soothe your mind, and that’s true. Having faith that one day, our lives will eventually get better is just a personal drive to keep us from giving up. We are still … and will always be just human. We are meant to feel as much as these so that we know that we are weak, and imperfect.

So I would let them have me tonight because God knows, I needed it. I needed to flush it out again. I needed to admit defeat but I’ll bounce back up again because there’s always rainbow after the rain, right?