Do you feel like wanting to die sometimes?
I do.
Suicide is impermissible in my faith, Islam. Taking a life, whether your own or someone else’s, is so reprehensible that if one kills without reasons that only a court of justice could justify; it’s as if that person has killed the entire humanity and is eternally doomed to hellfire.
Yet, there are times when I feel like dying and wish for everything to end. Today was one of those days.
Today, I spent the entire morning and afternoon under the covers of my bed. I deprived myself from even a sip of water until 3:00pm in the afternoon. Eventually, I was too exhausted physically. The thought of missing my afternoon prayer was the final reason that propelled me out of bed.
I recently took the Myers-Briggs Personality Test which proved that my personality lies on the 100% “feelings” spectrum. It did not surprise at all! I always knew I was a highly sensitive individual and even though I can’t afford therapy, I know the price I pay for my emotions and depression way too well.
We have been working on forgiveness at my support group at the local church. One of the poems in our workbook very strongly resonated with me:
You say I must forgive
It’s a Godly Command —
So let’s just take a moment
To fully understand…What forgiveness truly means,
And what it really doesn’t
What the truth about it is,
And what it actually isn’tForgiveness isn’t letting go
Because you think I should —
And it’s not forgetting…
Because you hoped I would.
Like most single women like myself in their late 20’s, I have endured trauma at the hands of men. Muslim men to be more precise. From family members, friends, an employer to men I have dated. Always men.
Fortunately, only recently I have found myself establishing healthy and trusting allies with my Muslim male counterparts through my studies at the Seminary. Slowly and gradually my stereotypes of the Muslim Male are breaking down. However, it only takes one trigger for myself to spiral back into my darkness.
Unfortunately, that trigger came last night when one of my own family members commented about my failures in past relationships with men. It took me almost 24 hours to get back up. Honestly, I am still recovering.
After coming out to the world with my vulnerabilities, I have been asked:
“So what keeps you going?”
Hope. One word that truly keeps me going. Hope. That despite the track record of heartbreak, God has destined a man for myself who wouldn’t break my heart. Hope. That the work I have done to improve my mental and emotional health is recognized by a man of honor who appreciates my brokenness. Hope. That this too, shall pass.
Focused on the storm of betrayal and hurt, even the poem in our support group workbook ended with hope:
The process of my healing
Means I see…I feel…I talk —
The freer I become
The stronger I can walk!
So I hope that it get’s better. I am sure that it will!
At least I haven’t crawled back into my bed.
That in itself is a sign of hope!
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