Dark Days

I’m sure everyone has those days, where it’s impossible to get out of bed? Where you don’t want to face the world?

Where you struggle to cope and get on with life, after everything you’ve been through.

Surely it wasn’t just me? Right?

After three years, coming upto four years, I now know I’m not the only one that suffered from the darkness in my days.

It was impossible for me to see the light, for me to have faith, for me to cope in everyday life and function like a human. I lost everything in one day, I was starting to make something of my life, I was happy, I was content. I counted my blessings and I appreciated it all. Then all of a sudden everything just got taken away from me and I couldn’t hold onto it. I was left with nothing and my world came crashing down. Everything got taken away from me in front of my eyes unexpectedly.

My brothers life.

It was my downfall. Don’t get me wrong, I understood he was at peace for the better, he struggled a lot for those five years. But losing my brother was the most hardest thing I’ve had to deal with, and till this very day, I struggle with the demons within me.

My brother had an unexpected death, from an unnatural cause. His respiratory system failed. His heart, lungs and body just gave out all of a sudden and he no longer could fight to live.

This isn’t a sympathy call, but I have struggled a lot throughout my life, ever since I was little, there was always something, but the loss of my brother completely broke me and destroyed me.

I will always remember that day so clearly like it happened yesterday, the way we got a phone call in the morning to come immediately to the hospital, the day he was supposed to be discharged and come back home after being here for three months. He was finally better, I spoke to the doctor myself the day before, and he told me my brother is clear from all infections and he will be home the next day. But that next day is the day it was over. Even the doctors didn’t see it coming. The doctor sat directly in front of me, and he said ‘Your brother won’t make it through the night, everything is shutting down in his body. I’m sorry, we did everything we could.’

I just stared at him, I didn’t believe those words, my brother went through worse and came out of it, he came out stronger and he always fought with everything he had and always made it. I just got up and left, I walked out the room. I didn’t believe a word he said. Doctors always make it wrong.

But he wasn’t wrong, in less than two hours, my brother had the people that loved him more than anything by his side and he took his last breath and closed his eyes. And that was that. I cried as I recited surahs by his side, I cried as I held his hand, as I touched his face and as I kissed his face.

The next day, I cried silently as I bought and packed new white towels, new cotton pads, new soap, new cotton white sheets for him to be wrapped in, I packed it in a bag, to go with my dad the next day for him to be washed and bought home for the last time.

On the day of the Janazah (funeral), he came home for the last time, for the last time, I kissed his face, his cheeks, his forehead, I placed my hand on his chest for the last time, I said goodbye to him for the last time, I cried silently by his side for the last time, I just stood there, next to him, for the last time. I felt myself break, inside. That was it, my life was almost perfect, I was happy with the way everything was going. But it wasn’t perfect anymore. It was over. I would never see him smile, I would never see him laugh, I would never see him look at me, I would never hear him talk or scream my name when he wanted me to give him something. I would never hear him call me his baby sister. I would never be talking to him at all..

And I said goodbye for the last time, and that was that, I stopped crying. I cried those three days and I stopped feeling anything. I was numb. I pushed everything to the back of my head and tried to get on with life.

I didn’t mourn for my brother properly, I was scared that if I cried, it would show weakness and I didn’t want to be weak. I had to be strong to keep my family together. My parents were distraught and if I allowed myself to show any kind of weakness then they wouldn’t be able to cope. A couple months had passed and I started pushing friends and family away, my cousins would check in on me everyday but I would shake them off and say I got things to do. I started to not go university, I didn’t attend any classes, I ended up keeping myself locked up in my room, I lost sleep, I lost my appetite, I lost communication with everyone. I would stay in my room and never leave. I started to stop praying, I didn’t find any peace within myself, I completely lost who I was, I detached myself from the whole world, I felt alone and I was breaking. I started to lose my sanity. I didn’t know who I was, I couldn’t cry if I wanted to. I would visit my brother, and I would pray beside him but there would be no tears as I shut off my emotions for such a long time I couldn’t cry if I tried.

When it was absolutely necessary for me to be in the presence of family or friends I managed to keep up appearance and force myself to act normal. But I never gave anyone the doubt that I was falling apart. My parents were struggling but they never openly talked about how they were feeling. My dad decided to take us on a break to relax and see my grams, my dads mother, in Bangladesh, we went for four weeks Mid May.

It was a nice get away, I escaped from reality for four weeks. I forgot about my pain, and emotion inside. But it was only temporary.

When I came back, that’s when it hit me even more, it affected me worse than it did before I went on a break. I had started to lose weight after my brother left, but that was slowly. Coming back from Bangladesh, going deeper in to the dark days, I was losing weight rapidly. My parents, my siblings, my friends, they all realised how much weight I was losing, they all realised I wasn’t eating, I wasn’t sleeping, I wasn’t doing anything. When it came to them asking me to talk to them I was able to put up a front, but I was breaking inside. I would be up for my morning prayer, a time where no one would be awake, and that’s when I would break down, crying non stop about the burning sensation in my heart, the raging fire I had inside of my chest. I would be sobbing, to my lord. I would be asking for a cure, for help. Begging my lord to grant my brother heaven. No one would hear me cry then and that was my only escape route.

I don’t know what it was, but it got to a stage where I knew I needed medical help cause it was destroying me.

I started to see my doctor and she was amazing, she wouldn’t push me to talk but she would wait for me to talk. She made me see a counsellor, and she would make me come to her twice a week, the weight loss was worrying her personally, even in front of her eyes I was losing a lot of weight. Quickly. I was always a fairly good weight not unfit but a good weight, just under 9 stones. But during this time it got to the stage where I was only above 5 stones, that’s not exaggeration. I had no appetite to eat or drink, my doctor diagnosed with me with an eating disorder and severe depression at the time. She prescribed me with these nourishment drinks to help me, I had to drink it three times a day and no food was necessary to be eaten. It was quite filling, but I couldn’t even drink that. I was on antidepressants too and I hated it. I felt numb and my mind felt foggy.

I didn’t always take my antidepressants, they weren’t good for me and I didn’t believe in taking medication to be well, I didn’t believe in the fact that you should take drugs to be in a right state of mind and to this date, I still don’t. I opened up to my friends and sort of my family, but it was me, myself, that made the change. I was on so many medications it messed me up, my mind and my body.

I didn’t really get out of depression, I still have my dark days now, but I managed to change my mindset, I prayed, I recited the Quran, I started doing yoga, and I meditated to help my mind, to give myself time to process my thoughts and emotion. I didn’t want to worry my parents anymore, I didn’t want to be selfish to only think about how I was feeling, because they must have been feeling shit themselves to be honest, their son passes away in the hands, they’re trying to keep it together and be strong for the rest of their kids, and their youngest daughter is losing weight everyday, who’s shut herself out to them and everyone else. It didn’t happen over night, I changed gradually.

So, what I’m trying to say is that, it’s okay to have days when you feel like you can’t leave your bed, and it’s okay to have days where you don’t want to be in anyone’s company than yourself, and it’s okay to feel dark, low and sad, because everyone feels that. Some things in life have a different impact on everybody in a different way. Everyone copes with things differently. I learnt to appreciate the good things and all the things I did have. I appreciated the fact my brother is no longer suffering and is at peace, I appreciate that I am well, and I have my parents, I have my brothers and sisters, I have friends that care and love me, who are always there. Most of all I appreciated the fact that my religion taught peace and helps me to this day. But, what I did sincerely understand and it helped me come to terms with is that I didn’t lose my brother, yes his soul was lost in this life and in this world. But if anything my religion has taught me, is that I will be seeing my brother again in the life after. (In Sha Allah)

It’s such a stigma in my culture if one is depressed or suffers from mental illnesses, Asian parents don’t tend to understand the impact or affect it has on someone’s mind. Mine weren’t easy but they understood, they understood that I lost my brother, who I was closest too, and I didn’t grieve properly. They loved me unconditionally and gave me the time I needed to heal and find my way.

Whoever reads this and can relate, just know that you aren’t alone in this world, and the dark days to get lighter. It does creep up on you, always, everyday is a struggle and everyday you have to fight the demons within you. But it is worth it to wake up and see the faces of those you love and realise you have people worth fighting for. And if not for others, but for yourself too, fight for yourself cause everyone deserves that inner peace ✌️

I hope you enjoyed this deep content of my blog, it was something that I’ve never spoken about publicly and I wanted my page to be of honesty, peace and love.

Stay tuned for my next content and be sure to follow my Instagram @imonafwonders 🍁


  1. I’m really glad I came across your blog. You’ve had a very hard time and I’m so sorry to hear about your brother. He’s in a much better place now. You are very inspiring and have made me feel a bit better today. I struggle daily with depression and it’s a constant battle xo

    Liked by 1 person

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