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               53 Days at the Psych Ward

Jeremiah 31:3 The LORD has appeared of old unto me, saying, Yea, I have loved you with an everlasting love: therefore with loving kindness have I drawn you.

There was a certain year that was really a whirlwind of ups and downs, especially during my time in the hospital, where I stood by my family for various reasons. It’s easy to get caught up in the debate over what pain feels the worst, isn’t it? We could argue for ages about it, but what really matters is taking responsibility for our actions and the hurt we’ve caused each other. Through it all, I’ve learned to see human tendencies for what they are: the capacity to be wicked, selfish, and even greedily inconsiderate. But I’ve also discovered the beauty of affection, true love, and selflessness, and most importantly, I’ve learned where to place each valuable emotion.

I’ve come to realize that I want to work in love and make my decisions based on it. But there’s also a God-kind of love that teaches me when to let go and allow others to be who they want to be in this brief, fragile life. I’ve become a better listener now; I want to hear what people might not say openly because I know that each conversation could be the last. Fear of rejection, betrayal, and hatred often keeps people silent, and I want to create a space where they feel safe to share.

I’m not blind to the darkness that exists in the world; I’ve chosen to accept it as part of reality for many. For some, evil is not just a concept; it’s a persistent truth they navigate. But I also know that insecurities, depression, and anxiety don’t simply fall into people’s lives out of thin air. Too often, they’re inflicted upon us by others as we journey from childhood into adulthood. And yet, people often judge what they don’t understand. It’s a stark reality that makes my heart ache for those who suffer in silence.

As I think back to my time in the emergency ward, I remember you, Faithy. We shared those heartbreaking goodbyes and prayed through tears, pleading, “No more, Lord. Help me. Help her.” Depression isn’t selective; it doesn’t only affect the Muslim or the born-again Christian. It can reach anyone—the wealthy and the poor, the strong and the seemingly invincible. Unhealed trauma can lead to depression, and abusive interactions can make life unbearable, leaving people in a state of despair, unable to eat, sleep, or find comfort.

I’ve seen how some people attempt to escape their pain through drugs, alcohol, or other unhealthy distractions. They need understanding and professional help to confront their truth and decide how to address it. It’s not normal to cheat or break promises repeatedly and expect gratitude for it. If you find yourself doing that, please, seek help. It’s not okay to insult, body-shame, or inflict mental anguish on others simply because you can.

I encountered a woman in the psychiatric ward who just wanted a divorce. Her misery began because, after 20 years of trying, she had not been able to have a child, and her husband had taken a second wife. She loved him, but her soul felt crushed under the weight of scorn and unfulfilled desires. She wanted to escape, but instead, she withdrew from eating and sleeping while others judged her instead of listening. It’s heartbreaking to think that we sometimes fail to extend compassion.

Another woman dealt with the pain of a lost pregnancy. She carried her baby for nine months, only to lose that precious life. We told her to swallow her grief and be strong, as if her pain was something to be dismissed. We often forget that losing a child is an unimaginable heartbreak that deserves empathy, not judgment.

And then there’s the boy who kept failing his exams. Feeling ashamed, he dropped out and turned to drugs and partying. When he tried to voice his despair, he was silenced with the phrase, “Be a man!” His parents faced criticism instead of support. I watched with compassion as his mother, despite his feelings of worthlessness and thoughts of ending his life, remained unwavering. She supported him through Electroconvulsive Therapy (ECT) with a love that reminded me of my own mother’s nurturing spirit. I cried—not because I felt hopeless, but because we are all suffering from a lack of love that we desperately need to give and receive.

Amidst all this, I witnessed the incredible love of a man who cared for his depressed wife. He brought her food, held her hand, and quietly watched over her. He didn’t have an advanced education, but the compassion in his actions was remarkable. I found myself praying for their healing, hoping that he would take her home, restored to joy.

I’ve come to believe that good doctors are nothing short of miracles. Medicine, in many ways, is a grace from God. The risks they take and the blessing they are to humanity cannot be overstated. Once healing starts, I’ve watched traumatized individuals transform into their beautiful, hopeful selves again. It’s a privilege to witness their struggles and to share in their victories as they emerge from the grip of their pain.

Today, I challenge us to become what we need and to embrace the love we desire. Thank you for believing in me, for praying, and for being such an incredible support system. I truly believe that no situation is too difficult for God to turn around for good. What others say will fade away, but you can hold onto your faith and hope. Let it thrive within you, and remember that you are never alone. I love you and believe in you. ❤️