I come from a broken home. I loved and had my heart broken. It’s like there’s wars waging around me and I’m caught in the crossfire, although sometimes I wish it wasn’t just a metaphor. One bullet and it would all end.
Pray, they tell me. They say things like, “just think positive thoughts!” or “get your act together” - like it’s as simple to them as getting up to take a shower. Little do they know that even showering seems impossible sometimes.
At age 19 I was diagnosed with Major Depression and Dysthymia, but I didn’t seek professional help for a few years.
I used to see a counsellor when I was in university. It kept me from falling apart. My counsellor insisted that I get professional help when, at the time, it was a bigger taboo than it is now.
Depression is ugly. It paints everything around me and everything in me. I thought that in giving my pain pretty packaging, when I pursued photography, that this would make it all acceptable. It worked for a while – but I no longer see the point in romanticising the rotten leftovers of rage and sadness because, eventually, mold grows on that too.
A huge part of me just wants to die, every day. There’s glimpses of hope, but they’re as fleeting as sandcastles built at low tides. I’m still here though, and that’s something.
I’m a 27 year old self-employed/freelance photographer (and full-time hermit, recluse and wastrel) with a BA in Interior Design. My name is Amani, and #MyMindMatters
Own your emotions, you have every right to feel them. #MentalHealthForEveryone
#TheLightHouse #lighthousearabia #TLH #depression #anxiety #oktosay #hereforyou #Dubai