Depression. It’s haunted me throughout my life. I’ve never had an escape from its shadow. Whether it be at home, in school, or in those haunting silent moments, that’s not to say that every aspect of my life was depressing but that I found an obsessive need to understand the darkness around me. Whether it was in people, places, or beliefs. I was always aware. Always so painfully aware of everything and everyone.
People don’t think kids can be that aware of the people and the world around them, but many, myself included, are proof that is not true. We just don’t talk about our sensitive nature and eerily spot-on intuition. However, this would later become the greatest innate power in my work.
I wasn’t diagnosed with depression until I had a nervous breakdown in 2015. I’ll spare you the diagnosis breakdown and say I, and those like me, have really great days. Days where I’m on top of the world. Days where I can walk into any room and talk to any human being, no matter their position or power. Days where I feel beautiful, unstoppable, and so on purpose. Days where my courage and tenacity scare even my shadow side (you know, that mysterious side I’m still exploring).
Then there are days, weeks, hell, sometimes even months, where I crash into a never-ending pit. Every aspect of my life is on autopilot. A never-ending cycle of thoughts, questions, and hard-hitting answers that turn into constant reality checks (none of which I’m ready for). A complete hibernation, my mind needs to adjust after “stimulation overload,” as my therapist says.
One I was determined to go into after my last in-person consult with a client we’ll call Amana.
Amana had been married for a year, and although she loved her husband dearly, she found that:
“Everything about him bothers me, Faiza,” she confessed to me over mocktails at the Peninsula Hotel. “I have a short fuse with him. Like even the way that guy’s sitting over there,” she continued pointing with her fresh coffin-styled nails that were painted just the right shade of pink.
We both looked at the man sitting across from us, who was rather attractive (if you ask me), taking rather long sips of his overpriced tea. It was a little fucking loud.
“Wallah, I wanna go over and drag him out of here by his cheap tie for sipping so loud,” she added a little angry.
“Girl, don’t point! The fuck. And let’s calm down there, Hulk,” I said, laughing.
Amana joining in.
It’s important to note I have a horrible and, I mean, horrible nervous/awkward laugh. I laugh all the times I shouldn’t and even during arguments which only makes matters worse. I have zero control over it. Oddly enough, on numerous occasions, it’s proven a blessing in helping to diffuse countless situations that I can’t even begin to tell you how fucked up they would have been otherwise.
“Oh sorry,” she said, putting her head in her hands, embarrassed. “But like see… what’s wrong with me? Why am I so angry all the time?”
I decided to use this opportunity to share #TheHardTruth Amana was clearly forgetting about her own life. The one she had been sharing with me since she decided to say, “I do.”
“Maybe it’s because you have a lot of unhealed trauma from your family. That you feel you married your husband just to get out of your family’s house, and you blame them for making you feel you needed to do that because they kept you at home in prison instead of letting you experience the world?”
She took a beat. A rather long one before turning to me and saying:
“Obviously!”
We both laughed. I could see the tears she was holding back. I always can, even when a client isn’t crying. I can see the pain. Some might call it a gift. I’m not sure yet.
“Sometimes I just wish my life was so different,” Amana added. “Do you ever wish that?”
“Sometimes,” I replied.
What I didn’t say was that I had begun to wish that every single minute of every single day. That I wished I’d never met Pan. That he’d never exposed my reputation or “Sharmoota shamed” me in front of the world. That I wished I had never tried to do any damage control and never started my social media journey. That I wish I had chosen silence over words. Never posted certain things or made certain friends. I wished I could forget the past and on and on and on.
“I wish I could time travel and make different choices,” she finally broke down.
The waiter passed by just at that moment, and I said:
“Can we get two more of these,” pointing to our mocktails, wishing we weren’t about that Halal Life and could turn them into cocktails if only for that moment.
“This is so embarrassing,” Amana added, clearing her tears.
“What’s embarrassing is convincing ourselves that we can hold it all together and not bust.”
“Feel to heal, right?” She said, throwing out a repetitive saying I use towards healing.
“Right,” I responded, not feeling the least bit hypocritical. The first in a very long ass time, mind you. I was invested in my healing and taking all the actions I needed to not only to self-reflect but to heal and actually grow.
“What would you change?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Amana seemed confused or unsure of what the answer should be.
“Let’s say you could time travel; what would you change?”
Our drinks arrived looking Instagram-worthy. I wanted to take a picture as I always do, but I learned early on that pictures, videos, and anything traceable are OFF LIMITS between myself and my clients. Unless given clear permission. I’ve been doing this job for sixteen years now and have only been given permission by two clients. TWO out of hundreds!
“I’d stay home longer. Not get married at twenty-five. Get to experience life more.”
That was an interesting answer, so I pressed on, “What would you have been able to do staying at home longer?”
“In my house? Nothing! My parents didn’t allow anything. That’s why I got married.”
That’s why the answer was so interesting.
“Does your husband give you the things your family didn’t?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Amana came from the traditional MusRab prison where girls can’t do anything, but the boys (her three brothers) could do anything and everything they want. Girls like this get married to get the very “freedom” they don’t have at home. Amana’s husband insisted on her getting everything her family didn’t give her. A driver’s license, a car, a home of her own, money in her bank account, and the carefreeness of not having to answer a million questions for any of the above. The freedom to go back to school if she chose, or work, or possibly start her own business. I mean, the girl’s talented in more ways than I can list.
“Obviously!” She said, laughing. “I only was able to drive here because of him. I have a life now because of him.”
“So why is the present not enough?”
“Because it’s so hard to get present when the past regrets follow me like a shadow on the wall.”
I understood shadows and the darkness they can bring with them all too well.
“Maybe it’s time to sit down and talk to that shadow. Bring it up to speed. Take it on a tour and introduce it to the new YOU and your new life. Cause it seems to have convinced you that you could have had all of this in the circumstance you were in before. When the reality is…”
“Oh I wouldn’t have,” Amana said, finishing my sentence.
“Right. So maybe giving it that tour. Literally going around your house, show it your car, etc., and give it, out loud, a verbal recount of what you have now that you never thought you would before because of your parents and the circumstances you lived in at that time. Maybe then the anger will subside a bit and comfort and joy will take its place.”
“It’s so hard, Faiza. I feel like I’m so ungrateful?”
“You don’t sound ungrateful! You sound like someone who’s lived in the darkness so long that sometimes the light can be uncomfortable.”
Amana had grown up around more toxicity and chaos than a child ever should, and for no other reason than she had been born with a muffin instead of a kebab.
“Maybe your husband isn’t the problem. Or the guy who’s still sipping his tea really fucking loud.”
We both peeked over at the sipping hunk. I mean, the guy was super hot, but damn— he could sip a little lower.
“Maybe it’s the anger you still carry for your family and your past. Maybe it’s time to let go of what might of been.”
“How did you do it, Mama,” she asked with genuine curiosity.
The fact that most clients call me Mama is probably why I feel I don’t need kids right now. I have a bunch of fucked up ones I’m raising and healing already. And I love every fucking minute of it.
“Girl… I’m still healing.”
“You don’t look it.”
“Looks are deceiving,” I said.
“Listen, take a roundtrip ticket to memory lane,” I said. “Look at the past, and the pain attached to it, but don’t stay there. Remind yourself this is a roundtrip journey. You get to come home to the beautiful present.”
“And it is beautiful, Faiza wallah.” She said, teary-eyed. “I just have so much anger towards my family for not letting me have this while I was single. Imagine what our lives would have been like?”
“We would have fucked up this town,” I said. We both laughed.
“But habibti, truth is, in order for that to have happened or to even be a possible reality, you would have had to be born to different parents, had a different mindset, and possibly even a different culture altogether.” We laughed again.
Being born an Arab Muslim woman is anything but easy. For those who have not experienced what Amana and thousands more have experienced, including me, consider yourselves fortunate.
“I wish so many things would have been different for me growing up, but in order for that to happen, I would have had to have a different mother or father because they had a certain mindset and perspective of life that I just couldn’t change. So I needed to change. Me. I couldn’t wait on them.”
My dad passed (Allah yerhamo) before I could implement any of this, but I did with my mother and every other person and area in my life, and it changed it all for the fucking better.
Was it easy? NO! Was it worth it? YES!
“And then somehow– when enough time passes and forgiveness and understanding take over– you realize you wouldn’t change a thing. Truly.”
“I feel like if I get okay with my parents, they’ll think what they did and said was okay, and it’s not!” Amana said.
“Forgiveness doesn’t excuse any wrongs. It’s not saying I’ll invite you or this into my life again. No! It’s about you finding peace when you’re ready.”
“Feel to heal?” She added with a sweet smile.
“That’s right,” I said as we could hear the hunk sipping across the room again.
We just looked at each other before busting out laughing.
The rest of the time, we just sat there with our mocktails, talking about the different places she was scheduled to travel with her husband. All the places she had once dreamed of within the four corners of her childhood room. Her shadow was starting to peel away, and all the gratitude she felt in the now brought on a light that could be seen on her face, demeanor, and overall words.
Perhaps a reminder that the past is best left in the past. And that the magic we’re all searching for is in the present.
Firsttttt ahhhhhh. Reading when I get home
Seconddd lol
2nd ❤️
It’s so weird I’m not getting any notifications f’r your posts lately. Anyway I loved this so much. I agree about the present but I’m also struggling to heal my past and feeling it all gets too much. How do you do it?
I said the same thing last week. Instagram is tweaking but I turned notif on. Do the same
I feel for your client so much. I’m the same way. I’m working through my healing. You’re so wise Mama. Love you so much
I relate to Amana so much 😕
Ahhhhhh my Saturday read. Can’t wait to cozy up and read ❤️
I love how real these entries are. I feel like I’m getting a sneak peak into someone’s diary
I hope you wrote an update on Amana ❤️
I want all your clients wishes to come true. Poor angel. You helped me heal and I know you’ll help her do the same. Love you so much ❤️
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Faiza your writing is so good. You have so much feeling and I relate so much.
OMGGGGG 😩😩😩😩😩😩❤️❤️❤️❤️
Okay you need to publish this into a book now. I read your entries every Sat and I’m obsessed. I know the hibernation helped you because we’ve seen all the amazing and consistent work you’ve been posting on social. I love it so much.
Your self acceptance and zero f’s attitude is so sexy and refreshing.
You better not stop! Love this so much. I read every single week.
Your discipline is unreal. I love this journey and you for sharing it.
A visionary ⭐️
Love this so much. Caught up ❤️
How’d I miss this????? Reading now
Is there more coming??
noiOydtDV
fNYGVdJt
yRBYwWjPFLxhVOXE
I need to to thank you for this excellent read!! I absolutely loved every bit of it. I have got you book-marked to check out new things you postÖ
tPXcOnrlRjdqmw
It’s going to be ending of mine day, however before finish I
am reading this impressive piece of writing to increase my know-how.
vurcazkircazpatliycaz.FHvLxeRuxsLP
Heya i am for the first time here. I found this board and I find It really useful & it helped me out much. I’m hoping to offer one thing back and help others such as you helped me.
MmFfhPBZ
Enjoyed every bit of your blog.Much thanks again. Really Great.
A big thank you for your blog article.Really looking forward to read more. Keep writing.
What Is Sugar Defender? Sugar Defender is a natural blood sugar support formula created by Tom Green. It is based on scientific breakthroughs and clinical studies.
What is Alpha Tonic? Alpha Tonic stands as a natural health supplement designed to comprehensively address men’s overall well-being.
I just could not depart your site prior to suggesting that I actually loved the standard information an individual provide on your guests? Is gonna be back continuously in order to check up on new posts.
Aw, this was a really nice post. In concept I want to put in writing like this additionally – taking time and actual effort to make an excellent article… however what can I say… I procrastinate alot and certainly not seem to get something done.
vqOCAxmkURbSYH
I adore gathering utile info, this post has got me even more info! .
Yeah bookmaking this wasn’t a speculative conclusion great post! .
I got what you mean , thankyou for putting up.Woh I am thankful to find this website through google. “If one does not know to which port one is sailing, no wind is favorable.” by Seneca.
Puravive is a natural weight loss supplement and is said to be quite effective in supporting healthy weight loss.