A New Year

The coming of December means the coming of a new year.

Think about that. This year has literally just sprinted by [for lack of a better word]. And so much has changed in just one year. I lost a few friends and now all I do is just socialize with them. But thankfully Alhamdulillah, I grew closer to a few people and made a few new friends :) but it's amazing to think of how many friends I lost this year. Everything changed so drastically, so quickly. It was only last year on New Year's Eve that I was with my squad having fun at an arcade. We were so close back then. And now, we're all split apart. It's crazy. I'm closer now with people I never imagined I would share my secrets with.

But I'm happy everything all worked out this way. I realize now the friends I used to have were never going to remain lifelong friends who would genuinely care for me. I should have foreseen it. I never fit in with them. Now I realize why. Well, I don't completely realize why because I don't rightly understand what it is about me that drives others away from me. I just know one thing: that I am not fit for the popular group and never will be. I will forever be a part of the outcasts, one of the losers, an odd one out. BUT... I'm totally fine with that. It makes me feel good to be a part of those who usually get no limelight. I can help them all succeed and prosper and feel special. We don't need popular people in our lives, especially if they make us feel bad about ourselves.

Let me tell you my depression story, since it really thrived this year.

My wave of depression began in the very early days of my new life in Texas. Had the circumstances been a little different, I wouldn't have felt as bad, but the circumstances were awful. I had to leave my best friend behind. I've mentioned this a lot, several times actually, but only because it means so much to me. Leaving behind my best friend was one thing. I was also leaving behind an entire community which I considered my family. I was also leaving my house, which I'd gotten used to for five years and learned to appreciate. So many memories had been created in that house, and I yearned to relive them all. Well, there was no going back. I was already in Texas. I felt what you kids call "salty" for the longest time, and I had no other choice but to vent in the diary I carried at the time. (I still own that diary but haven't been writing in there for like EVER.) I treated everything negatively. Everything. Not joking. I was like "F this, F that, I hate Texas, it's too fancy and pompous for me, ugh, my life will never be the same ever again, etc." Whenever someone I met asked me where I moved from and how I liked Texas, I would always frown a little and express my dislike of the state. My feelings against Texas were so strong in those months and I NEVER felt inclined to say something nice about it.

Months passed by. I had a few good moments, made some new friends in Quran class ;) My mom was still in the Bayyinah program at that time. I met her classmates, and mashaAllah they are such nice people. They always made me feel fuzzy and warm inside, and they were the ones who really made me actually like Texas. A few of them even taught archery at the masjid, in which I participated. :)

2014 passed, 2015 came. I was hit with the hard reality that my mom would graduate Bayyinah soon, meaning so would her classmates and they would have to leave Texas. Great, more people I love being a far distance from me. Is this the new thing? January to May seemed to pass by so quickly, and then my mom graduated. Then her classmates graduated and left the state. The locals of course stayed, but even they didn't live in the city we were in. And then, there I was, feeling sad and lonely again.

Of course, throughout all of this, I kept in touch with my best friend, because who doesn't confide in their best friend when times are difficult? Our hearts were as shattered as ever. I genuinely began to worry if I would ever ever get to see her again. How many years are going to pass before I see her again? Will the next time be in Jannah if we are both promised Jannah? Will we never ever visit back? Will we even consider visiting back? And these thoughts hit me so hard that they drove me to tears, as everything else had done since my move to Texas.

Well, Ramadan came and went, and that was when my squad began to form. We were so strong during those times. I actually felt like nothing could go wrong at that point, because I now had friends. People to stick with. People to make up for the ones I'd left behind. And it did seem like such for the longest time. Well, at least for six months. Time passed. Forget the times we all died laughing while we hung out at the others' house. Forget the fact that we formed an art club. Forget the times we all went out for frozen yogurt. Forget all of that. It would all mean nothing in the next half year.

I don't even know how it happened. We were all together on the last night of 2015, literally chilling in the cold temperature at a park. We took pictures together. We ate together. We played on the playground. And then, boom. 2016 dropped.

I started my first semester at North Lake College. I was of course very nervous, because anything can go wrong when I'm put in a brand-new atmosphere. But it all went well. And it was during those months that I made a friend, who made me feel special. She texted me all the time during school. She and I shared an inside joke. She and I stuck together during our youth group meetings. The funny thing was, I felt like I liked her, but at the same time I lowkey didn't. I never genuinely felt like I liked her.

And my thoughts were correct. She ended up ditching me only a couple months later for someone else who I thought was my fill-in for my best friend. And it surprised me so much, because those two seemed like completely unlikely friends. Well, that only made my depression come by again.

Well, some weeks passed. I got into a rocky relationship with one of my friends because I ranted to her about how that one girl was hurting me because I felt as though she only liked people for their beauty, popularity, and money. And then I lashed out at my friend because it annoyed me that she was the reason I was being left alone. Because she had the good looks. The likable personality. The visible skills which everyone appreciated. The "little miss perfect" persona. I never told her that, but I apologized for what I did say.

Time passed by again, and then I realized what I was experiencing. I'd finally figured out why I was experiencing perpetual chronic waves of melancholy. Why I was feeling more negative than positive. And so I let it out to my mom: I am suffering from depression.

Her answer only added to my down in the dumps feelings. "I'm suffering from it too. I've been suffering from it. I can't help you with yours until mine is fixed."

Seeing as she, my own mother, was the one expected to be by my side in times of difficulty and couldn't help me because she couldn't fix her own problems, really hit me hard. I began to think, oh no, if she can never fix her problems then mine will never be fixed either. And I'll never be that optimistic girl I used to be, ever again. 

Yes, well, that was my mentality for the longest time after that. If Mama can't fix it, it can't be fixed.

I lost hope in everything. I was crying myself to sleep nearly every night. I could barely go an entire week without crying. I couldn't remember the last time I had a moment of genuine happiness. Everything went downhill from there.

May passed by. Memorial weekend came. My family decided to visit New Mexico! I was so happy during this time. I wanted to call my best friend and tell her that we were coming, but something happened with the call so we couldn't call. But I still wanted to hear her reaction, so I ended up typing the news to her while she put herself on record. And she squealed! But she kind of already knew what I was going to say, partly because she knows me so well and partly because I had been dropping hints. Love my bestie. Well, we finally made the 9 hour drive to New Mexico, and even though we only spent a three day weekend there, those were the best three days of my life. That vacation was my new favorite weekend. It was so rewarding to be in my home again, to be in the presence of my favorite person again. But, of course, good times never last. We had to go back to old Texas. That was one of my happy times of this year. And of the entire time I've been away from New Mexico.

It wasn't until last Ramadan, which was five or six months ago, that I began to realize who my real buddies were. Everyone was now in their own little cliques. Everyone had their own go-to person. And there I was, left outside of the circle. It's not like I wanted to be with any of the people in the cliques because I knew deep down that I had nothing in common with them. But I still wanted someone. Someone to help me to stop feeling lonely. Someone I would feel comfortable with talking to. Basically, someone who would fill in for my best friend. But nobody answered my silent call.

And then, by the will and mercy of Allah, I was granted with the friendship and trust of a good friend. It never hit me before that she was the one person who made me feel happy and comfortable within YM meetings. But I now realized why we both shared a bond. She and I both had no go-to person. We were both "outcasts" from the YM group. We were both considered "weirdos." The interests we shared and the passions we had did not fit with anybody else in the group.

I don't remember how it happened, but we suddenly became really close and started talking to each other more frequently, be it online or in-person. And that is how I found out that she and I both shared feelings about that one girl who I no longer liked. We both felt like she didn't like us. And her actions expressed that enough. She ignored us and spoke to us only when she needed or wanted something. She even made it more obvious that she didn't like us by "forgetting" to hug us! No joke. She literally did not hug us. On purpose.

Let me add this in really quick. When my article on dealing with the lady week in Ramadan was published on Muslim Kids Matter sometime in June, I posted about it on Instagram. Only a few of my friends/followers (unfortunately, the ones I rarely get to see) expressed their excitement and love for the article. I thought the peeps from my youth group would comment for once, since this was kind of an 'achievement' for me and I'm a lame ol' loser, but they didn't comment at all. And that made me think, "Okay, so it's not my writing skill they don't like. It's me." But what was it that they didn't like about me?

Well, a month passed. That was when I wrote my book with my online friend Nur. When it was finally finished and we publicized our website on September 2, I posted about it on Facebook and Instagram. We got about two new followers on Instagram and a bunch of page likes from friends of friends, but the people in my circle didn't seem to care about it. I was just like, "Yo, this isn't just something that will come and go. This is legit now. This thing will be published. My goal here is to promote Islamic fiction and normalize Islam for the ignorant. Do you not care?" And evidently, they didn't care. About me. I just KNEW it, however, that if someone else from my group, someone more popular, had done the same thing as me, then they would totally get more attention than I had. That's the problem with popular people. If people like them, people will also like whatever they do. If they dislike or do not care about a person, they will feel the same way towards anything they do. Sigh. :( Even with my art account on Instagram, people of my circle just look over my pictures. Buuuuut, when the popular person in my group posts something on her art account, the people in my circle go over and comment over there. I can't say I'm complaining because after all, she DID have her art account before I started mine, but it's just painful to see the obvious difference in treatment of me in comparison to the popular person. And I know it's a little childish to get worked up about lack of comments, but the lack of comments and online attention clearly represent my followers' attitude and feelings towards me in general, and that HURTS. Big time.

Then again, I'm just one person. Why should I even matter?

Well, anyway, moving on. Good friend and I created a few inside jokes. I shared my writing with her. She was one of the few people who actually appreciated me for my writing passion and skill. Let me repeat: one of the FEW people. No one else in the YM group really paid attention to my love for words. And I guess I could see why, because writing is a bland skill. An intangible skill. Anyway, I really really appreciated her because she treated my writing like a godly thing (okay maybe that's an exaggeration).

Anyway, it occurred to me why I felt so horrible after my move to Texas. Yes, it's been two years so far and I still miss New Mexico. I realized that my mindset had been as such: If I can just lose my home and my friends like this, well, I can just lose everything else as well. Nothing can go my way anymore. All my hopes and dreams are dashed and lost. Nothing will ever be the same again. Why try?

It didn't help that I was the only person of my family whose heart was still attached to New Mexico. None of my siblings really seemed to care where they were going. They didn't have friends or anybody they liked in New Mexico. They didn't care for memories. My parents felt the same way. So I didn't have any supporters. I was all alone in my own little world of broken hearts and shattered memories.

Well, the end of the year is here, and I realized something. My negative feelings were not just part of my heartbreak. They were from Shaytaan. All my sadness, depression, random waves of fiery anger, were from Shaytaan. And it made sense. Shaytaan's job is to go out of his way to make Allah's slaves feel miserable so that they don't feel inclined to worship and turn to Allah. I realize this now. I had fallen into Shaytaan's trap. And it makes me feel guilty to know how gullible and weak I'd been in order for me to fall.

I need to fight Shaytaan. I have to overcome their power. "Kill them with kindness" as they say. Meaning, the only way to fight and overcome them is to focus on the positive. Be grateful. Be happy. Face every beginning of the day with a smile. And best of all, turn to Allah.

May I also add that at some points during this time I was driven to suicide, but it was mostly due to my own faults and issues. In my entire life, I was never driven to the point of either self-harm or suicide, primarily because I am too much of a coward to ever set a blade to my skin. But I've tried other things, like slowly smothering and suffocating myself under my blanket at night. I've scratched myself a few times, but I've never done anything intense. So, no, I've never tried to kill myself with anything drastic like knives or nooses. But I see now that that is a result of Allah's protection.

This year has been a hard one. But a lot of great things have happened, too. I wrote an article for Muslim Kids Matter and it was published. I wrote a book with my friend Nur over the course of one month. I learned to be patient within a couple of aspects (I kept myself from cutting my hair for exactly one year and I refrained from nibbling on my nails). I began to draw again. I made new friends and dropped the useless ones. I learned how to deal with people who just didn't care about me. And most importantly, I learned who I, Nura, really am.

And I'm going to celebrate that.

To whomever is reading this post, if you were mentioned, you better know who you are. This goes for the people I described both negatively and positively. If you do not know it's you who I'm describing, I'm disappointed in you.

Good times, they never last, I wish they were around... (Raef, You're There)

Until next time! :)

P.S.: Yo, peeps whom I consider my good friends! It's funny how the people I genuinely love are always out of my reach. Y'all know where you are and who you are. <3