The Struggles Have Ceased, Depression Deceased
By Omar Abdelghani
We all have our stories, our struggles, and our demons. Still, it is our solemn belief that we have been abandoned to the loneliness of our purgatory. I have been there, and probably do suffer still from the affliction of this parasite that dwells within my infirmity. No matter how raw or forcible it may seem at times, I know that it shall not be the end of me. I know it from the bottom of my heart because a friend of mine managed to escape this ordeal that has struck many like him.
It is not that he is any more remarkable, nor it is simply a stroke of luck, to have managed to elude any further harm and pain. It is, very much, like Rocky said, and in case you don’t know what wisdom the great ‘Italian Stallion’ had supplied all of humanity with, “It ain’t about how hard you hit. It’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.” An easy route, full of hardships indeed. Allow me to tell you of the seemingly ceaseless struggles my friend went through, and allow his story to inspire you to do the same.
Just like many, this man, not so long ago, was a boy, and as it is the case for many, this boy had, prematurely, made the unfortunate acquaintance of his demons. Although at first they were dormant, similarly to most predators of prowess, succeeding in luring you in, they have only recently awoken, hell-bent on seeing him plummet to his everlasting demise. Incessant at fulfilling its commission, relentless and malign, this disease had made sure any happiness he may have relished was brought to an abrupt and calamitous ending. Now a captive of this prolonged state of utter misery, the inevitable came around, and a shift in his psyche’s crust had him, for the longest time, affected.
The kind boy has now transformed into a spiteful young man, done so against his will. He was never hostile by nature, but nature had altered the very element that had once devised his essence. Having once been gentle, he now wallows in acts of anger, breaking down every now and then. Oftentimes, these sudden convulsions would mistakenly strike those he loves most, pushing them further bit by bit, leaving him more alone and ultimately, pushing him further down the wasteland. Friends kept their distance, parents could no longer cope and his girlfriend suffered with and from the ashes of this terribly uneasy torment.
Soon, the numbness that comes with settled in, paralyzing him inside out, forcing him into dark methods and unsuccessful attempts of feeling once more, often hurting himself. These were all cries for rescue, all of which had received help. However, outward help could only get him so far, the rest was up to him. Time passed, and as it did, hope seemed to wane away. He had his good days, but still, his bad days outweighed them all. Not before long, the disease had gotten its firm grip over his mind, leading him astray, until it had him only strides away from the edge.
With self-inflicted injuries and a scarred mind, he knew that to trek further down this darkness, alone, would have him meet with the Grim Reaper not long after. And so it is that the young man now listened to his better judgment, and acquiesced in his decision to seek aid from a professional. It was hard for him to acknowledge the illness, but it shouldn’t have been. He smiles more frequently now and laughs louder than he previously had. Now, on his way to rehabilitation, he has been freed.