My biggest issue has been trying to find a loophole out of my pain, into the world. This resulted in being met with a world that reflected back to me what I’ve been doing to myself ; not trying to understand me, not relating to me, taking me for granted.
I’ve repented for the sins against myself. I sought forgiveness for the way I just didn’t want to be there for the spiritual journey through the valley of depression. Just wanted to dissociate through those parts. But of course that only meant the journey would be repeated.
I looked around and found no one to discard this burden on. So I forgave everyone else too. I didn’t want to carry their resentment. I had to make space for what I hated about me; the spaces I just had to grow into. The uncertain, undefined, perpetual space in this moment. I’ve spent many many years pursuing the truth, sacrificed and suffered to chisel it out of my soul. I thought that was all there was to it. But no, now I must sit with my discoveries and discover life through them. I must soak in my truth, and let Allaah extract art from me. Like creating skateboards and dinner tables and frames out of wood.
Was life easier when I had an opponent in my demons and past? Life seems so vast on the front row. I can’t… escape. Who knew freedom could be so… scary?