Sawfy’s melancholic musings
A proper introduction
Trigger warning: mention of suicidal thoughts and depression.
I realize that I didn’t formally introduce my new series “Sawfy’s melancholic musings”.
So here we go.
I have been struggling with depression for a few years now and though I’m mostly better now, I wouldn’t say I’m completely cured.
At my lowest, I wrote, I wrote to quiet my mind, to let it out. I wrote to feel heard, to feel seen, to understand better how I was feeling and why I was feeling the way i was feeling.
Most of these pieces were written in my depressive state.
Most of these pieces are from months ago and I just feel they’re too beautiful not to share, to die in my notes app.
Sawfy’s melancholic musings is an outlet where this side of me can finally feel seen.
I’m doing this for me.
I want to start this newsletter by sharing a piece I wrote during one of my depressive lows, so you’ll have a better idea of how I feel during these episodes.
Depression is that unexpected and unwanted guest that comes and drains all the light from your life, leaving you in darkness, and filling your heart with a void, making you feel incomplete, like a mess, without knowing exactly why.
There are times when you think you’ve overcome your depression, only for it to come back and take away all the light and sweetness you managed to restore, replacing them with an overwhelming darkness and bitterness.
And now you want to cry, but you don’t know why. You’re fantasizing about jumping off a cliff, even though you were happy with your life just yesterday. ‘Just jump, and it’ll all be over,’ the voice tells you.
‘But what’s on the other side?’ Not even that voice knows.
You see the smile and light on everyone’s faces and wish you could feel that happy and at peace too.
When did your life turn into this endless pit of enveloping darkness, devoid of light?
A quiet mind you miss. Now your mind is filled with all these voices that just won’t shut up!
Now you suspect you’re losing your mind or maybe you lost it a while ago.
And no one seems to notice the battle you’re fighting inside. That you’ve lost the light in you life. That you wish you didn’t exist. That you feel more dead than alive lately.
You know depression has a color.
On days I’m feeling depressed everything turns gray and monotonous.
But on days I’m not feeling depressed the colors return.
The moment I open my eyes everyday, that’s the first thing I check. What color’s today?
There’re two voices in my head: the hopeless and the slightly hopeful.
The hopeless wants me to end everything prays for death in fact.
The hopeful begs me not to, cries that she’s scared of what comes after death.
“When does it all end?” “not soon I hope we can’t die yet not when we haven’t lived”
I don’t know which voice is mine or if I’m even in there or just a spectator watching them from a far like some stalker.
I hated how depressed I was, I hated myself for doing nothing about it, I hated myself for being depressed, I hated myself for not being happy, for not being like everyone else.
I looked at others and wish I had what they had a peaceful mind that didn’t tear them apart.
A mind that wasn’t filled with emptiness threatening to swallow them whole.
For having it all together or atleast being able to make it look like they had it all together. For being sane.
Sanity, how many times have I questioned my own sanity?
I’d hate how untidy my room was. I’d hate myself for not cleaning, I’d try to clean then break into tears cuz cleaning my room is easy but cleaning my mind? kicking depression out? that’s hard.
The state of my room is usually a reflection of the state of my mind if it’s tidy I’m sane if it’s not I’m depressed.
I make a timetable which I know I won’t follow and plan my day. I’d hate myself every time I got a notification reminding me what I should be doing at this moment, this moment that I’m glued to my bed. I’d hate myself for setting those reminders even tho I knew I won’t follow them.
When it all gets too much I start a series. I binge watch until I forget my worries my anxiety my depression. It’s an escape I’m grateful for.
I hated my friends and everyone around me for not noticing, for believing my mask, for not asking if I was ok. then I’d hate myself for saying “I was fine everything’s fine” when they do ask.
NB: Just wanted to share here that I am not suicidal. So this isn’t a cry for help. And me being able to share this means that in some way I have healed. sort of.
Also if this piece meant something to you, l'd be grateful if you left a like or a comment. It helps more than you know.
may Allah ease your affairs & take care of you 💌
"The hopeful begs me not to, cries that she’s scared of what comes after death."
This is so real.
May Allah make is easy for us all