when my mother asks me of my depression I stay silent not because i don’t want to talk about the sadness that crawls up in my bed when the light goes off or the sudden tear drops that sit so comfortably on my cheeks they’d have no problem calling it home but because I don’t know how to explain depression to someone who is so full of light - ‘it’s the shaytan” my mother tells me “don’t let him win, He wouldn’t burden your soul with something you aren’t able to surpass” how do you tell someone you hold so dearly, that the devil has already won, that he has taken shelter inside of you for so long you can’t even find an inch of yourself in your own body “i know, mama, i know” i tell her not mentioning how I go to sleep every night drowning in tears hoping that this is where Allah has decided to end my story how do you tell your mother that you need more from God, more love, more hope, more peace without sounding like a disbeliever and so instead I pray ‘Ya Allah, let me be tougher than this’
Suhur Omar, my story for now
