Iknew that I had to get up for work. I did not want to though. I felt filthy anddisgraced. I could not breathe well. My soul felt heavy as if it has beendipped into a pool of grease and oil. My body ached, disclosing its dire needfor further rest. '' WHYDID I MESS EVERYTHING UP WHILE CLEARLY KNOWING THE CONSEQUENCES,'' I screamedto myself. I pounded my fists against my lap and clenched my teeth in a tantrumof regret and sorrow. There was nothing to do though. I had to get up and pullon something fresh for workThe night before, I reached the rock bottom. Irelapsed, stayed up, ate heavily, and plunged into a sea that I have beenstraining to grow oblivious about. Yet somehow the melody of its crashing waveslured me, and under the heavy distress I was feeling, I felt willing to respondto the whispers of the heavenly shaped mermaids. I bluntly crossed all of thelimits I have willingly set for myself. I crashed down fast-first to shatterall the possibilities of maintaining a controlled life. I distanced from Allah,felt the yearning to lure a female, and defied the echoing inside of me.Somehow this night I fancied the intensity of sinning so boldly that I almostclamed divinity. I strode with my eyes shut to reach a place so dark anddistant that shrieks grow as unattended for as silence. This night, Iwillingly, pompously, and consciously hit the rock bottom.
As I shuffled down the street, feeling heavy andscattered, I staggered back and forth. I teared mildly amidst the rain. I feltbroken deep inside of me as if I have spiritually committed suicide. I feltstrangely indifferent. A whirl of conflicting emotions engulfed my senses,leaving me nothing but a sensual feeling of defeat. Something inside waspiquing me for seeking Allah's help but I shook my head with stifling anger. Ifelt at a severe loss of hope.
I made it to work. In almost a whisper, I greetedeverybody and tossed my heavy body onto the chair. I leaned forward to rest myface against the wooden desk. I felt fatigued physically and spiritually. Inthis precise moment I felt the terror. My job, the thing that I love the mosthas been affected by my most astonishing relapse. I swallowed hard at thepossibility of having the rest of my interests collapse right in front of myeyes because of how indecisive I am. In the few hours I spent at work, I feltalmost nothing. Blank. Nothing. I just sat there watching people come and go infront of me. I smothered my gnawing need for crying and passing out as hard asI could. I felt nauseous, sick of myself and of how much I have been trying tolive up to my standards yet in vain. What fueled my rage further is howsincerely I have been trying in the past few weeks. I felt angry at Allah becauseI sought his help with hearty prayers. I felt confused and in pain. Somehow, uncertaintystarted to impair my religious beliefs and that horrified me even more.
As my heart pulsed rather madly, I felt my breathingreaching agitating limits. My hands quivered steadily and I felt difficulty swallowing.Impulsively, I hoisted myself up and shakily requested to leave. As I got outfrom work, I had demonic thoughts rushing through that damaged mind of mind. Ifelt so defeated that I wanted to relapse even further. I wanted to go home,eat further, grow sleepless, strain myself, and wallow in the agony of my darkpast and lapse even further into the darkest manners. I felt so angry at Allahand myself in an unprecedented manner. And Frankly, I felt no fear.
Surprisingly, on my way back to home, I stumbledhardly upon a curb and I fell on my face. Pain shot beastly through my legs asmy screams pierced the already noisy street. A few minutes later, I was up onmy feet shrugging the dirt off. Even though the pain I felt from falling wasmore literal, it somehow got me out of my determined train of thoughts to goback home and further commit psychological suicide. At this moment, I did notknow if what happened was a blessing or a curse. I didn't give it much though.I further marched, feeling somehow more conscious, reconsidering and thinkingif I want to willingly relapse further. As my conscious thinking started toelevate in strength, it seemed self-destructive to me to sabotage the day furthermore simply because things have already crashed.
I made it home. And the battle resumed. Should I cavein the emotional rush? Should I worsen matters willingly? Should I covet themomentary joy of sinning? I bowed my head, disclosing my exhaustion. Yet,somehow I was feeling so drained that sleeping felt like the lust I shouldpursue. And I did sleep for hours. I did unplug every part of me. I pressed myright side intimately against the bed sheet like a scared little boy. I hidunder the thick blanket. I grew thoughtless under the sedating pleasure ofbeing sound asleep.
Afraid of losing myself in the world of the half-dead,I suddenly woke up, feeling truly bad. I knew that sleeping secured an escapefor a couple of hours but now it was time to face reality and decide onimportant matters. I staggered through the aisle to reach the couch. I satthere with my chin resting limply on my palms. I had no idea what to do or howto do it. Things just crashed and it was hard for me to tell from where shouldI start. Yet, somehow I knew deep inside of me that I had to try harder andlouder if I am to rise again. As I recalled the night before, I felt angerpermeating my existence. I got up, circling aimlessly around the room, pleadingfor a revelation. I knew that my main problem was being too apprehensive abouthurting others that I allowed them to hurt me. So, I took the necessary stepsto drastically terminate some consuming relationships. While sending a messageto this mischievous person, I felt the urge for bad-mouthing but I rememberedthat my aim is to heal and not to grow satisfied by watching others suffer. Iattempted to forgive and heal from the inside. My wish is to cause no harm forI am not an abuser. As I took this step, I felt hope knocking on that wornout heart of mine. Additionally, I flipped through the pages of a self-helpbook that I had, exposing the stories of those who fell terribly yet rose toachieve the best they can achieve. Somehow, I felt willing to resort to any andeverything except Allah. As dark as this sounds, it described how intense Ifelt.
Ifelt calmer as time went by. I came to think of my next steps. I decided onmany things. I had no idea whether this is going to be '' another attempt '' or'' the one and final attempt. '' I did not try to think extensively about thatfor this is no use in doing so but the possibility of growing more hopeless.
Eventhough I persistently defied any urge to seek Allah's help, I knew that it wasplainly hideous. It is just that I felt enraged and it is hard to thinkstraight when you're flooded by negative emotions. Nonetheless, while I wassurfing the internet for an article regarding healing, I came across a comment,quoting versatile verses from the Qur'an regarding Allah's mercy and hismagnificent ability to heal and bestow forgiveness upon the souls of the mostdeviant and relentless sinners the earth can host. I felt like crying. I shook.I felt vulnerable and naked. I know that Allah could never leave a human whoasks for help helpless but sometimes we do not endeavor sincerely enough togain redemption in return.
Irecalled when I stumbled upon the curb and thought of it as an unusual thing.Maybe Allah did not want to see his helpless creature suffer further, I thoughtto myself. Maybe Allah loves me and wishes me to be a fighter with a spiritmade of iron. I looked up and called his name. I sobbed and sobbed. I felt myburdens oozing out of my skin as I sobbed loudly. I sighed long enough to feelbetter. I tilted my head backwards, leaned against the chair, and shut my eyes.I felt like a wrestler who has won his battle yet by paying an exorbitantprice.
Feelingthe shame of willingly abstaining from Allah, I went to the bathroom toundertake ablution. I tried my best to make it a thorough process in which Ienvisioned the water streaming down my skin to be the eraser of my sins. So, I scrubbeddiligently as if I am redeeming my soul. After finishing, I stood theredrenched with beads of warm-to-hot water. I eyed myself in the mirror andexhaled in relief. Further, I recalledAllah's name and testified to his oneness and existed the bathroom. I prayedthoroughly as if I am experiencing Yoga. I took my time, cleared my mind, andclung to the hope of a better tomorrow. I finished and perched on the groundfor a few minutes, making promises, vowing to take it easy and lose theepidemic of perfectionism. I do not claim myself to be more sincere this timebut I vowed to take my attempts deeper into religious, emotional, and mentalproportions.
Eventhough I felt the emotional trauma of painfully hitting the rock bottom andfeeling the jeopardy of having my life prone to the perfect collapse, I thinkthat I woke up. I only think and I hope that I am not being delusional. Thiscollapse intrigued me to share my experience with you as I believe in theinvaluable power of words. I am a creature of sins and blunders but I am apersistent fighter who will realize life balance and spiritual clarity onetime. I do not know if I will no longer trespass on my boundaries but oneshould only hope for the best, underscoring the significance of taking stepsand never disregarding the power of having Allah on your side.
Thepower of failure is in rising stronger. Those who break through to later conveytheir battles inspire the world to rise to the challenge of being humans whoseek righteousness and goodness. May Allah aid us all.------------------------------------------- ιиѕριяє∂ ву: Hitting the rock bottom
