Resilience

Amidst the bustling crowds and the rhythmic footsteps echoing against the hallowed halls, I
weaved my way through the maze of buildings toward my class. As I approached the lecture
hall, a sense of anticipation mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee from the nearby
campus cafe. Suddenly, something like a fell down as if the lighting has strikes the earth.
Curious as I was, obviously I need to what had happened. A woman, lay sprawled upon the
pavement below, a tragic testament to the depths of human desperation. Limbs twisted in unreal
angles, clothes tattered and bloodied, it spoke of a leap taken in the darkest of moments, a
desperate bid to escape the demons within. Yet, even in death, there was a haunting beauty to
its final descent, a silent scream frozen in time against the backdrop of an evil world. A familiar
tightness gripped my chest, my heart pounding in erratic rhythms that echoed in my ears like a
distant drumbeat. The walls seemed to close in around me, the air growing thick and suffocating
with each breath. Panic surged through my veins like wildfire, consuming rational thought in its
wake. I struggled to maintain composure, my hands trembling as I was searching for an anchor
in the sea of chaos. In the midst of the chaos I noticed that the contents of her purse spilled out
onto the pavement like scattered memories, each item a fragment of her life suddenly laid bare
for the world to see. Lipstick tubes rolled lazily alongside crumpled receipts and loose change
and something that in particular attracts me, a bottle, written Amitriptyline in front of it. Without
realising, the bottle has moved from the pavement to my pocket.

As dusk settled over the campus, the anticipation in the air was palpable, mingling with the faint
glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the deserted pathways. Students gathered
outside the lecture hall, their chatter muted by the weight of impending knowledge. Time
seemed to slow to a crawl, each passing minute stretching into eternity as they waited for the
doors to open, eager minds brimming with curiosity and anticipation for the insights that awaited
them in the darkness of the night. The longer I wait, the more I heard student talk about the
scene that happened this morning. “She had a lot of problem with her parents”, “She always feel
unappreciated”, but one word in particular make me feel like I’ve been catapulted into a
whirlwind of emotions! “She had no faith”. It’s like I’ve been transported back in time, reliving
every moment with vivid intensity. Back in the day, I aced it like a pro! But even when I was at
the peak of my academic prowess, it seemed like nothing could quench my parents’ insatiable
thirst for perfection. No matter how hard the subject is, all they knew is that I need to score
everything. “But mom everyone in my class failed this subject”, says me trying to defend myself.
All that effort and success felt futile in the face of their unyielding expectations. “I don’t care
about the others, I just want to know why you didn’t ace in everything, why can’t you be perfect”.
It cut deeper than anything I’ve ever experienced, leaving scars that I never knew could form.
From that day I knew that I can no longer stay with them. As my lecturer came, reality rudely
interrupted my reverie, jolting me back to the present with a start.

It’s like trying to grasp smoke—every attempt to concentrate slips through my fingers, leaving
me adrift in a haze of distraction. During the class I can’t stop thinking about what they’re
gossiping. Once more, I found myself ensnared in the tendrils of memory, swept away by the
currents of nostalgia. “Congratulation for your result, don’t worry you can do better next time”.
It’s weird that my mother can say such words. It sounds like the person who used to give me
slurs has changed their behaviour. That’s good to hear! But why she never talk to me this way. It
seems like I was never her favourite in the first place, why she give compliments to someone
who are not even related to her? Maybe she saw my friend as her child that she can’t never
had.

Day by day, my condition was not getting any better. As I lay in bed, my mind became a
battleground, overrun by the relentless assault of intrusive thoughts. They crept in stealthily, like
shadows in the night, whispering doubt and fear into every corner of my consciousness. No
matter how hard I tried to push them away, they clung to me like a suffocating fog, obscuring my
vision and drowning out all rationality. Each thought seemed to echo louder than the last, a
cacophony of negativity that reverberated through my very being. I felt trapped, helpless against
the onslaught of my own mind, as the darkness closed in around me, suffocating and relentless.
My mind still thinking about that one thing. Why did I take that bottle in the first place? Slowly, I
reached my pocket and pulled my phone. Amitriptyline was the first thing I entered in my search
bar. As the page starts to load, slowly my curiosity went away. Amitriptyline is a tricyclic
antidepressant with side effects such as feeling dizzy. Overdose may cause death while
sleeping. My pupil went wide as I saw “overdose may cause death”, maybe this could be a sign,
maybe I should end this, after all my life was worthless. Slowly, I opened the bottle full of the
pills, the click of the cap echoing in the quiet room. In the quiet of the night, I gather a handful of
pills, each one a silent plea for peace. My consciousness fades into the darkness, a whisper lost
in the silence of the night.
With a gasp, I clawed my way back from the abyss of oblivion, my senses assaulted by the
harsh light of reality as I emerged from the depths of unconsciousness. My friends were besides
me. “Call the nurse!” says one of my friends, As I’m trying to moved, they quickly stopped me. I
was too tired to fight so I just lay in my bed. Their words washed over me like a relentless tide,
each syllable crashing against the shores of my consciousness, piecing together fragments of
memory lost to the darkness. I was lucky, it just so happens that one of my roommate open the
door and saw me laying on the floor with hand full with Amitriptyline. My jaw dropped when the
say that my mother came to the emergency room, I thought she couldn’t care less about me.
Unfortunately for me, I was wrong. I guess all of the negligence the she showed me was
actually for the better. I was dumbfounded, laying lifelessly in the emergency room. I thought to
myself. What have I done. Everything I thought about my mother is wrong. How sinful you have
to be. Having notion about your mother is bad, abusive and neglecting her duty as parents. I
was the one who was wrong the entire time, blinded by my own perceptions. In solitude’s
embrace, tears freely flow, I sobbed alone, with sorrow’s heavy blow. Awakened by truth’s
relentless gaze. “I’m sorry mom”.

As if in a blink, months swiftly flew, Time's silent passage, a journey anew. Things has gotten
better since last time. I’ve learned a lot from what has happened. Depression has nothing to do
with your faith in Allah, it’s a mental illness, that a lot of others people have to, maybe even
worse than me. But everything will go by if I just started accepting what god had planned for me.
Refusing truth’s call, yields naught but strife, Embrace the lessons, navigate life. In shadows of
trials, seeds of growth reside, from every hardship, blessings can’t hide.