The “D” word

It feels like drowning in the dark, and you don’t know how to swim. Sometimes it feels like the sick feeling you have when you get the news that someone very close to you has a deadly disease. I can go on and on how horrible it feels but it won’t be enough. That’s what depression feels like.

In the beginning nothing worked, I didn’t know what was “happening” to me so my kind family doctor gave me anti-depressants. I remember how good they felt, “IT” was over I thought. Yes I didn’t feel depressed but eventually I stopped feeling anything at all. An outraged monster was unleashed in me, no compassion, no happiness. I thought I was invincible, nothing mattered. Bitterly I wondered, WHY ME?

We moved to another state, it was an apartment on the third floor. All I could think of was about putting the big couch in front of the balcony door so I wouldn’t try to kill myself. My loved ones … it didn’t matter. I forgot how to feel. I became a robot. I didn’t need food or sleep…. just the happy pill.

I wanted to feel again, so I gave up the happy potion. Ironic, eh? Now, I can feel. It’s gut wrenchingly painful a lot of the time but I can feel. I do feel better sometimes but it feels “awful good”, oh-so-good, but I know it might disappear any moment, leaving me in the abyss of darkness. What scares me most is what I might do to get rid of the pain…. what if it creates a distance between me and Allah…. what if I don’t see my loved ones anymore.

It’s been painful for the last few days. I remind myself, everything that happens to a believer is good for them. I trust in Allah and tell myself to do so often, but it’s so damn painful.

This post has been made anonymous to protect the identity of the author. She is one of many, many women, including faithful, loving Muslim moms, who battle depression.