The Longest Depression

Revisiting the past is as foolish as foolish can get. But sometimes you have no option especially when you are constantly living a life affected by that past such that every moment becomes a reminder of that god awful decision that scarred your existence since.

Lately however I have been trying to snap out of the long depressive state of my existence and this is the first time I am being publicly candid about my innermost struggle since 2011. Of course this is my side of the story because it is about my state of affairs, and it is about time I speak out before I lose what's left of my life and friend circle.

A smart young lady I was with the world as my oyster.  Everything was going so well, and I had so many real friends. Today my life is quite the contrary. Everyone is quick to criticise what I have made of life, yet no one ever stops at asking, why I turned out the way I did in the years following 2011. My battle was mine alone, and yet everyone wanted a say in how I shouldn't be living my life.

And while I tried not to play the victim, and have picked up most of the pieces, my present is the product of my past. I cannot reiterate this enough. 

It has been years since I was last invited for a friend's wedding. I don't even remember the last time I spoke to a friend from school or uni. I have completely withdrawn from relatives too. In fact even childhood friends are now a distant memory. 

Funny thing is I was a social butterfly, always happy and chirpy. I loved forming new friendships and had no trouble starting a conversation. Things changed quite drastically since 2011. Yet no one came to ask why I had withdrawn from them, from life and from my passion for human rights and journalism.  What had caused me to become so scatter brained- such a failure?

It all started in 2011 after I married Ahmed, a decision I regret and a stage of my life where I burned the most bridges and lost everything I had worked so hard to build. 

And none of this happened because of love. If it had I would not be such a mess. My mom had given me an ultimatum that only if I married Ahmed (a Muslim) would she allow me to go back to school. I gave in and it was this marriage that was the beginning of the end. I was just trying to save a marriage so my absence during my Master's in the States would not be the reason for a failed relationship. It was also the result of my stubbornness to prove to my Jewish host family that my husband, an Arab man is not as evil as they were convincing me he would turn out to be. I betrayed them too because I had no face to show them after I realized that they were right. My ex husband betrayed me and my trust.  He stole not only my scholarship funds, but also my chance at a bright future in the field of journalism and development. He robbed me of my dignity. I had to not only give up Duke, and my job at RTI, but also my friends and colleagues. I also survived physical abuse. Yet staying back in Egypt was my way of healing, of trying to build an alternative life. It was not what I went to school for, but did I have other option? I did, suicide. I chose to live. 

The withdrawal symptoms I experienced were quite dire. I was on anti depressants. But I could never go back to the Mariam everyone was hopeful about. I became irate and my nature aggressive.  I began to feel socially awkward because I just didn't know how to cope with losing a scholarship and a chance at a future that everyone including myself believed I would bag! 

Today, 6 years hence, I have no one to hang out with. I sit alone at cafes, staring at tables in front of me surrounded by groups of friends. I barely get any messages from friends on facebook. I am not in any of the images my friends upload or could never attend reunions due to lack of finance because unlike my peers I have made nothing of my life. I am non-existent for so many people. I do not even have a job to be proud of. I have been a nomad of sorts because I feel so incomplete without my university degree. And I can't face those people who believed in me. 

And while I feel so happy for my colleagues who have gone on to do wonderful things, and have found their soulmates and started families, I also feel so left out. I know it was all my doing and today it has become too late to undo the past.  So I sip my coffee in solitude and wrench my heart at how I lost all these years and so much of my memory. Maybe my karma is coming back to haunt me. I am now 33, with no real friends except a few I managed to make in Egypt. My smile only a bandaid, my existence on social media a fake representation of me. 

I know so many people hate me or want none of Mariam, but I am reaching out. I want to apologise to all those people I distanced myself from including my childhood friends, friends and colleagues who believed in me, and my family. I just had to do my own healing. And while nothing will undo the past and I will never get back those years, I want to give life another chance because I don't want to be a failure anymore.  I know this is hard to believe, but I was a mess, and while I had another chance last year to rebuild myself by enrolling at university again, I had to put it off until I was completely ok for I feared I would quit midway again. I also had to arrange to pay back Rotary Foundation and build up courage to face my former host family. I owe so many an apology. I don't even know with whom to begin. Perhaps I can begin here.

Most importantly, I want to quit escaping. I want to feel 27 again. I want to reconnect with everyone I left behind. I was not born to be a loner. Geminis never are!