Masa
Everybody makes mistakes. This is a common reminder used to help us navigate through life
without beating ourselves up. If only it were that easy. At least for me, it was not. It is not easy to
build someone up who has been broken down for so long. I didn’t know how much of a
problem my negativity was until up to last year.
When I say negative, I don’t mean towards others. I mean towards myself. It was so much a part
of my character that I just took it as me being rational. I’ve never had many special gifts, but one
thing I have is a good memory. This has been a blessing and a curse. I love the feeling of
reflecting upon the tiny steps I’ve made in my life to get here…until they become clouded with
all the missteps I’ve made. I still remember the shortcomings and how it affected me then. I still
remember how people made me feel for making them. I still remember who kicked me when I
was down, and who brought me down to begin with.
No one is born with self-hate, it is learned.
I grew up with many people telling me who I was before even discovering for myself. Most of it
were not great things. I was reminded of how lazy I was when I brought back a bad report card. I
was reminded of how my intellect was not up to par with other kids. I soon became quiet and
would never raise my hand out of fear of being laughed at for a “stupid” question. I ended up
receiving C’s and D’s because to me, I was not smart enough to do any better. I’ve heard so
many negative things about myself that I started to believe it. It seemed like every day, I was
being ridiculed of for all my flaws and mistakes. This was the case both in school and out of
school. There was no escape from it, so I started to absorb it. I started to rationalize my failure
by telling myself that I wasn’t smart, and everyone that formed the same opinion towards me
would only confirm it. This would only send me into a deeper pit of self-doubt.
Asma
I try my hardest to stay happy and forget about all those bad feelings and thoughts that
enveloped me. But they keep on coming back to me and it gets merciless every time. I
couldn’t handle it. It was too much. I went and asked my mom if I could seek out for
professional help, when I thought my own mother would accept my proposal she didn’t
she shut me down and instead shuns me for even thinking about “embarrassing” her by
telling a stranger my problems.
I went to my eldest sister thinking she might help. She laughed and told me “aren’t you
too young to be depressed? You should be grateful that you’re living in stress free
generation” I instantly felt down she was my sister and I trusted her but instead my cry
for help was rejected.
I felt neglected by my family and I started to believe that there was no way they would
believe me anymore. But I knew that I couldn’t give up, so I went and tried again with
my mom, this time I was full on crying, sobbing with snot coming out of my nose talking
to her about how I’m feeling with raw words. She did feel guilty but still she wouldnt not
agree to my request
(asma and masa together)
In a year I got better and worse I started to accept the fact that I must support myself
and I was thankful enough to have my friend’s support too. I then realized this whole
time that in order to fight this depression I need to love myself but how can I? Well it
wasn’t that easy to find the solution, but I did find it. I found out that for me to love
myself I should know myself first. I should know what I truly like and dislike, what my
morals are, how I want to live. Then everything started to unravel, and I discovered my
true authentic self which was a sigh of relief and a cleanse really. I felt like I was on top
of the world, I was able to love myself so that means I could fight my depression now.
Well it’s not that easy but I know that I’m a step closer to finally closing that dark
chapter in my life.