In case you needed to hear this today: Donโ€™t worry. Itโ€™s going to be ok.

I know life can be crazy stressful sometimes. And when that happens you can make the mistake of getting in your head too much and thinking about all the alternate possibilities of your future, or mistakes of your past, and it can really take a toll on your brain. But the thing is, your brain needs some TLC too. Which is why I’m here to remind you that everything is going to be ok. Let me say that again:

Everything. Is going to be. Ok. Nothing, not even the intense emotions you’re feeling right now, last forever. They will subside, things will fall into place, you’ll figure it out, and everything. Will be. Ok. So let your brain rest, take a deep breath, think some positive, hopeful thoughts and click that reset button.

I’m rooting for you!๐Ÿ˜Š๐Ÿ’ช๐Ÿฝ๐Ÿ’ช๐Ÿฝ

Mental Health: A poem

Ok, I have to admit, I am not normally this brooding. But a session with my therapist today, paired with my monthly hormonal rollercoaster of emotions (girls, you know what I am talking about), led me to discuss some feelings I have, and have had in the past, about me taking medication. There was crying involved. But we got through the session and now I’m here.

In looking back, I realized I went through a crazy loop of feelings (like the ones down below) for a long time before I finally felt like I was starting to climb out of the well of my mental health journey. “Finally” referring to only 1 year ago, which in the grand scheme of having MDD for 14+ years, is relatively recent. Only now do I feel like I can explain it to people, and have a minor grasp of it myself so I can share and teach it to others. However before that, I was in the dark a lot. I was so confused and unable to seek guidance from anyone because none of us understood it! Neither in science, nor in society, and most definitely not my very Indian family. So to put a long story short, apologies for the brooding of the poem, but give it a read. Maybe it can be enlightening in some odd sort of way.


Alone.

In a well.

Capable of seeing the sky but unable to touch the clouds.


The illness of the brain, its a silent sort of pain.

Like the way weeds gingerly dry out a flower bed, while none is the wiser.

Or the way a dying sun is masked by a cloudy day.

Its still happening. Its still painful. Its still there…


Its lingering. Reckless. And messing with my head.

Making me think I’m weak for not “getting over it.”

Convincing me there’s something wrong with me.

Constantly causing me to wonder if other people can see it.

Can you see it? Can you see the “crazy” in me? Am I hiding it well?


I’m told its mostly attributed to trauma.

That the way I look at others and am constantly aware of others’ feelings and comforts,

its not a trait of compassion but rather a result of trauma,

From constantly being told not to cry,

Constantly having the rug pulled from under me with no stable rock to hold onto,

nor any idea of when it might come. Or when it might end.

So? I’m on constant alert, 24/7, walls up.

Guards up…Trust down.



Constantly. Constantly, constantly, constantly.

What good is the word for anyway except to emphasize the incident and make it sound worse.

“Constantly catastrophizing” she told me.

Don’t use words like “always”, or “never.”

“Its too dramatic.” she says.


Well, I can’t argue with that.

I am in fact writing a poem right now and I can’t think of anything more dramatic.

But in the context of “dramatic,” I encourage you to look at the word a little differently.

Change dramatic for empathetic.

Now what’s it look like?


Imagine that you’re in her shoes.

The girl dealing with an illness she doesn’t understand and neither does anyone else.

A lab rat to the medications that have no promise of success

Except through trial and error.

Trying to explain it to other’s while trying to understand it herself.


Imagine for however many times a day you think to yourself:

“Why is she so lazy?”

how many more times must she be wondering the same thing,

And yet feel like she has no control in fixing it the way you can do so easily.


Mental health.

The thoughts of the mind.

It’s not a shared experience.

So? You have to believe…


Believe! Believe her when she says “constant”

and imagine it being constant.

Believe her when she says “physical pain!”

and imagine the physical pain.


Put on a shoe that doesn’t fit,

and wonder how far she must’ve walked in it,

In the discomfort.

How must it feel to not be able to identify the problem,

And still yet, instead be wrongly identified as the problem itself by others.


All I ask is for empathy.

For a little bit of empathy.

To recognize that while you may be able to touch the sky

Some other’s cannot.


While you are making strides on pedestals in the clouds

Some others are:

“Alone.

At the bottom of a well.

Capable of seeing the sky, but unable to touch the clouds.”


~Sakeenah Tahir (The Warrior Within)

Higher Purpose

This video…. just calmed me down in a way I’ve rarely been calmed before ๐Ÿ˜Œ๐Ÿ˜Œ


Now don’t get me wrong. I am in no way diminishing nor removing therapy, medication or other forms of mental health treatments from the equation, but at the end of the day my higher purpose is thisโ˜๐Ÿฝโฌ†๏ธ. And all the rest of it- medication, therapy, etc. is simply a means by which Allah has given me to treat myself and return to Him, humbled by my difficulty, and grateful for my higher purpose at the end of the day. This simple piece of knowledge always brings me to a much more peaceful place than anything else. Subhanallah. Alhamdulillah.img_1771

Depression meds causing anxiety? Help/Advice?

So to those of you who don’t know, and/or did not read the title of this blog, I have Major Depressive Disorder, surprise! ๐Ÿ˜€

Lol ok no but for real, its a diagnosis I have been tied to since as early as 5th grade, but looking back I had signs of it relatively early on. I am not sure if it was due to family related situations, or if I was born with it, or predisposed, or what, and I don’t really care anymore. The point is, its a thing, that I have, and its sooo. much. fun. (She said with a strained distressed smile, bags hollowing out her undereyes). Anywhoo, so you get the picture. I also have spent a rocky road of 15+ years trying to treat it, and ultimately landed on a medication called Bupropion which I honestly feel has been helping. I first noted the effects about 4 to 5 months into it, but I am sure I was experiencing it earlier. I started running and the exercise I think really boosted it. And yadda yadda yadda, (I’ll talk about my initial experience with this medication in another post).

For the sake and purposes of THIS post however, I want to talk about the medication 2 years out- meaning I have been on it for 2 years now. Something I noticed when I initially started taking it was how much more energy and passion I felt I had. When something bothered me, instead of feeling numb and crawling into a bawl crying alone in my closet, I actually had the energy and gumption to voice and vocalize my anger, frustration, and my hurt. It was honestly a wonderful feeling. I also realized I could get into fights a little more often, and sometimes I would say something without thinking, thus effecting my relationships and regretting what I had said.

In reflecting over the past 2 years, I initially really loved this and when my doctor asked me about anxiety related side effects, I told her that I do feel as though I get anxiety now, but I honestly felt that it was me being my true self, and that the depression had been hiding this true gumption personality for the past 15 years now. She asked me about anxiety again and I brushed it off saying I was doing good and that a little bit of anxiety was good. I also decided that in having this new found anxiety, I need to learn (much later than others) how to control said anger and anxiety and energy and channel it properly. Calm down a little and learn to let some things go. And to continue to practice THINKING before I speak or act. Much like people with anger management issues may have.

Now… I’m starting to think the anxiety might be a lot. I am not really sure. I just know that I get anxiety a lot. I overthink, and ruminate and write, and type, and speak a LOT. I can see how some people may acknowledge this as “smart” and I liked feeling that way for a bit but I am worried that perhaps the anxiety is getting out of hand. I am not really sure what to do at this point. I am now on three meds (1.5 of bupropion, and a medication for my ICS diagnosis) at the age of 24 and the thought of being put on yet another medication kinda worries me.

Has anyone here dealt with depression medication related anxiety? And if so how do you deal with it? Is it something you felt was severe enough that you needed to change your medication? I’m really searching for answers at this point. I am happy because the medication I feel is working in the sense that I can get out of bed and do stuff (sometimes), and it doesn’t affect me like previous medications did like causing me to constantly be hungry or constantly feel sleepy. It has not come with any side effects that I was able to discern and I like that, and I like it. And i would like for it to stay that way. But of course at one point I guess you have to decide, to what extent is the side effect affecting your life negatively that you need to change it.

Anyways, just looking for some help and advice really. Thanks yall! Buh byye and salaam!

This is what anxiety looks like

Day….3million 7 hundred and 40 something of depressive episodes underway. I feel like I just can’t catch a break. Fear, self doubt, paranoia, the feeling that whatever I do will never be done as well as I want it to be done. These things are constantly wracking my brain. Its the reason I haven’t posted regularly in a long time on here. Its the reason I’ve deleted all my identifying social media platforms because I’m afraid of what other people will think and/or judge about me.

I go to a toxic workplace where people gossip about me and that has ramped up my paranoia to another level. And then mull over and over about the embarrassing things that I’ve done while I was there. I mull over all the things I did that I hope wasnt obvious but probably totally was.

I then relate those “great” memories to all the embarrassing moments prior to me starting this work (aka throughout my entire life) and start to convince myself that I’m crazy. That my family looks at me like I’m crazy. That they look at me the same way they look at my bipolar disorder aunt who is 40 and lives with her parents and hasn’t had a job for over 20 years now.

I’m beginning to dwindle but this writing is helping a lil right now.

Its reminding me of how fortunate I am too have all the caring and loving people that I Do have in my life. A loving grandmother who will do anything for me. All of my grandparents being alive. A wonderful mother and brother. I’m reminded that people don’t look at my aunt the way they do because she is crazy but because she is not helping out. Because she sits at home all day. I’m reminded that that does NOT have to be me. I’m reminded that I sent in my applications yesterday and I can sign up for classes somewhere if I don’t get in anywhere.

I’m reminded that this is just a toxic workplace and that when I am around my friends and the people I love, I am NOT weird to them. I’m not messed up. I’m funny, im understood, they don’t take my jokes the wrong way but rather get them perfectly. Ok I’m done I should get dressed for work now.

Buh bye โœŒ๐Ÿฝ

May 1st- lol I’m reading this right now and this really sounds like period mood swings. Also, I’m fasting so probably a little hangry too. But reading it is helpful for me to realize how much I can psych myself out just by being in my head for too long. Its good to get out of your head. Put words on paper, do a painting, take a walk, deliver a pizza, help an old lady across the street, just DO something. Its really easy to not do something nowadays because we have our phones. But hopefully we can learn to put it down and be an active member of society instead.