So, I was sitting at my desk on a regular Saturday night, working on an assignment with Assalah playing in the background for some reason. The strokes of the pen, the process of thinking, and Assalah’s legendary performance, it all felt so quiet, so beautiful, and so enjoyable in that moment. It was a state of mind I hadn’t felt in a long time—at least while I’m sober—so long that I had forgotten it even existed.
Depression had me for six months, eating me from the inside, kicking me in the balls every night, reducing me to a scum of moving flesh trying to save itself from an inevitable end every day. Life was just a series of miserable moments, ranging in their magnitude of misery from not being able to enjoy a single song from my music library to writing my final note because the pain in my chest made me think I was about to go into that good night.
Therapy and antidepressants didn’t help much. I had better conversations with Google’s Gemini than with the most expensive and experienced therapists. I can’t tell whether that’s an Egypt problem or just my inability to open up to anything but a soulless machine that starts losing memory once the conversation exceeds its context window. Anyway, it was a day after three weeks of not leaving my bed when I decided to stop waiting for meds to save my life.
It didn’t happen instantly. Honestly, I still think some stains remain on my mind and soul, waiting for time to wear them off. But day by day, I started getting it back, the life in my voice, and the spark in my eyes. I knew I had reached somewhere good when my mum told me I sounded different, that whatever the hell was going on with me seemed to be over.
If you’re reading this, waiting for me to get to the magical solution, I’ve got nothing to tell you but "I’m sorry" because I actually don’t know. It giveth and taketh in the most mysterious of ways, at least for me. My only advice is to hang in there. It ends, in some way or another.
Life is truly beautiful and worth it. I cherish every moment I’ve lived, even the worst of them, and I’ll cherish every moment to come. I cherish my friends who stayed with me through that time, the local bar that gave me company and good times when I needed it most, and my comfort series, which through endless binge-watching took my mind away from the cruel reality of those days. I love you all.
- Radwan