Homeless To Hopeful
I have been asked why I feel afraid more times than I can count.
The answer isn’t so easy.
You see, I have never had the opportunity to live at “home.”
My family lived in Saudi Arabia for work, but Syria was our true home. Yes Syria, the country going through a very tragic war.
In the early days of the war, I was optimistic. I held out hope, prayed for my family, and tried to let my fears go.
As I got older though and the war escalated, my house was destroyed.
I tried to tell myself that it was fine, and the black cloud will pass; despite the fact that my safe sweet home was now gone.
I fell into a depression.
It was hard for me to feel like my emotions were being understood, so I took all my pent-up anger out on myself and others.
I started shouting at people without realizing it. This anger came from my fear for the wellbeing of my family after they had evacuated our country.
No one was willing to stand up for our poor country and nobody was trying to stop the deplorable acts that were happening.
I truly thought it was the end of the world, but guess what? It wasn’t.
No, my country has not recovered, and accepting that did not get easier, but I got stronger.
A year later, I finally shared my bottled up anger and fear to a friend, who helped me to start therapy.
I was exhausted from feeling so sad and hopeless.
In therapy, I realized that no one deserves to be unhappy. I started to believe in myself, and that is when change started to occur.
It didn’t happen in one day, and I am more determined than ever to keep the momentum going.
I am someone who now looks at the bright side of things, someone who has hope, someone who smiles, and someone who wants to help myself instead of feel sorry for myself.
Yes, times can be hard, but I am ready to fight for my happiness.