Finding Light in the Dark: A Testimony of Overcoming Depression and Anxiety.

Finding Light in the Dark: A Testimony of Overcoming Depression and Anxiety.

By Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar

I want to veer off a little from my usual spiritual reflections and address mental health—a topic I felt compelled to touch upon at least once in my book. Mental health is a serious issue that has plagued our society and is often overlooked. To be completely honest, I have suffered greatly from depression and anxiety. My struggle was particularly intense around the time of Hurricane Katrina. I had just lost my firstborn at nine days old. Within weeks, my beloved grandmother passed away, and tragically, on the day of her service, my close cousin and her daughter were murdered. I was in great pain, having lost so much so quickly.

As time passed, I began to experience financial problems living in Georgia. The economy had crashed, and jobs were disappearing like crazy. I was unemployed for two years, living on a $900-a-month unemployment check, struggling to pay rent and buy food. I tried hard to pay for car insurance but had to do what I could with the little I had. One day, while teaching at the center, a friend approached me with a suggestion to make some extra money. He mentioned a job at a chicken processing plant that paid $150 a day starting at 3 a.m. and ending at 9 a.m. Despite my reluctance, I took the job. It was the worst job I ever had. It deepened my depression, making me feel like I was lowering myself, given my education and talents.

I kept the job for six months before I had to quit. It was eating me up inside, and I was still behind on all my bills, unable to provide for myself or my children. I felt really low, especially when I couldn't afford my apartment anymore. I lived without electricity, using the water that was included with the rent to bathe. I walked five miles to the grocery store to buy noodles, bread, peanut butter, jelly, and potato chips. Sometimes, I would spend half the day at a Chinese buffet to fill up.

Eventually, my mother in New Orleans was able to buy me a bicycle and helped me catch up on rent and utility bills, providing me a six-month cushion. With her support and prayer, I got a job at Walmart as an overnight stocker. I began to catch up on things, got insurance, and fixed my car. I became active in the community, teaching a literary arts class, religion, and dieting at the center. I also worked to clean my apartment complex of drugs, brokered peace between feuding sects, and threw a BBQ with music and activities for the kids. I planted beautiful shrubs and flowers, giving my community a new look and outlook.

Despite the economy still struggling, I managed to help several families avoid foreclosure, even putting up more than four families in my two-bedroom apartment over two years. I never asked for anything in return, feeling that the Creator had lifted me from a slum, and I wanted to help others. However, the last family I helped hurt me deeply. While I was working overnight at Walmart, they turned my home into a den of drugs, alcohol, and sex. I confronted them, told them to leave, and when I returned, they had called the police, falsely accusing me of assault.

For six months, I ran from the police, sleeping in my car, hiding in different cities. The families I had helped before would not return the favor. I couldn't even bathe or eat properly, which put me in a dark place. I felt like the Creator had abandoned me. Eventually, the police arrested me, and I spent time in jail, feeling my depression and anxiety return full force. I couldn't understand why I was being punished for helping others.

By the Creator's grace, I was released, but with a restraining order that left me homeless, carless, and without help. I struggled for months, washing up at the Masjid or a Quick Trip. I felt like trash, my life meaningless. I wanted to end it all but realized that wasn't what the Creator wanted. With the blessings I received, I bought a $300 car, allowing me to sleep in it and drive to work until my court date. On the day of my court hearing, I prayed for mercy and recited a folklore I had written, "Mercy Over Law." The judge was moved and set me free, warning me never to return to the court system.

I called my mother, who, along with my uncle, came to get me. I transferred to a Walmart in New Orleans and began to feel better, my faith rebuilding. But my time with my mother was short-lived; she passed away within a year, plunging me into despair once more. Losing her was the end of my world, and I felt utterly alone and unloved. My depression hit hard, and I was fired from Walmart. For years, I hurt, stopped writing, and fought daily thoughts of suicide.

When I was in the deepest throes of my depression, I found solace in unexpected places. The physical act of running became my sanctuary. With each stride, I felt as though I was shedding the weight of my worries, albeit temporarily. The rhythmic pounding of my feet on the pavement was a reminder that I was still alive, still capable of movement and progress, no matter how small it seemed. Running gave me a sense of control over my life, something that depression had stripped away. It was during one of these runs that I encountered a stranger who shared a simple yet profound message with me. He said, “You are more than your circumstances. You are a child of the universe, and the Creator has a purpose for you.” These words resonated deeply, reminding me that my existence had meaning beyond the immediate struggles. I began to meditate regularly, seeking not just physical but also spiritual and emotional healing. Meditation allowed me to quiet the chaos within my mind, to find a space of peace and clarity. It was during these moments of stillness that I felt the presence of the Creator most strongly. The gentle whispers of guidance and assurance filled me with a renewed sense of purpose and hope. In my meditative state, I recalled the teachings of my grandmother, who had always emphasized the importance of faith and resilience. She would often say, “The Creator’s light shines brightest in the darkest of times.” Her wisdom became a beacon for me, guiding me through the shadows of my despair. I also began to write again, pouring my thoughts and experiences onto paper. Writing became a therapeutic outlet, a way to process my emotions and make sense of my journey. Through my words, I found a voice that had been silenced by depression. I shared my stories with others, hoping to inspire and uplift those who were facing similar battles. One of the most profound moments of my recovery came when I visited a sacred place, a serene lake surrounded by towering trees. As I sat by the water’s edge, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace wash over me. The stillness of the lake mirrored the calm I sought within myself. In that moment, I realized that I had come full circle, from the depths of despair to a place of tranquility and hope. My journey was far from easy, and there were many times when I felt like giving up. But with each step, I discovered new strengths within myself. I learned to appreciate the small victories, to celebrate the moments of joy amidst the struggles. Most importantly, I learned to trust in the Creator’s plan, even when I couldn’t see the path ahead. My story is not unique, and I know that many others are fighting similar battles. To them, I say this: You are not alone. There is a light within you that can never be extinguished, no matter how dark the world may seem. Hold on to that light, nurture it with faith and love, and it will guide you through even the toughest times. Healing is not a linear process. It involves setbacks and challenges, but each obstacle is an opportunity for growth. As I continued to navigate my journey, I realized the importance of self-compassion. I had to forgive myself for the mistakes I had made and the pain I had endured. This was perhaps the hardest part of my recovery, but also the most necessary.

I started attending a online support groups, where I met others who were dealing with their own struggles. Sharing our stories and listening to each other’s experiences created a sense of solidarity and understanding. We were all different, yet connected by our shared humanity and the desire to heal. These groups became a source of strength, providing me with a network of support that I had long been missing. During one of these group sessions, a woman shared a story about a phoenix rising from the ashes. She spoke about how, in mythology, the phoenix is a symbol of renewal and rebirth. Her words struck a chord with me. I began to see my own journey as a process of transformation, a shedding of the old to make way for the new. This image of the phoenix rising from the ashes became a powerful metaphor for my own life. I started to view my past struggles not as a series of defeats, but as necessary trials that forged my resilience and strength. Embracing this new perspective, I decided to delve deeper into spiritual practices that resonated with me. I spent time in nature, finding solace in the beauty of the world around me. The rustling leaves, the gentle breeze, and the vibrant colors of flowers reminded me of the Creator’s presence in every aspect of life. These moments of connection with nature became sacred rituals, grounding me and reminding me of the larger tapestry of existence in which I played a part. As I continued to heal, I felt a growing desire to help others navigate their own journeys. I began mentoring individuals who were dealing with similar issues, offering guidance and support based on my experiences. It was incredibly fulfilling to see others find their own paths to healing, knowing that I had played a small part in their transformation. This work became my calling, a way to give back and to honor the blessings I had received. One particularly poignant experience occurred when I met a young man . He was struggling with severe depression, much like I had been. He had lost his job, his home, and felt utterly hopeless. I saw a reflection of my past self in his eyes and knew that I could offer him more than just words. I shared my story with him, not as a prescription but as a testament to the possibility of recovery. We worked together over several months, and I watched as he gradually found his footing. His journey was his own, but our connection reminded me of the power of shared experiences and the strength that comes from knowing we are not alone. Through these experiences, I came to understand that healing is not just about mending what is broken but also about building something new and beautiful from the pieces. Each setback, each moment of despair, became a building block for a stronger, more resilient self. I learned to embrace my scars as symbols of survival and growth, rather than as marks of defeat. As I look back on my journey, I see a tapestry woven with threads of pain, resilience, hope, and transformation. Each experience, no matter how difficult, has contributed to the person I am today. I have learned to cherish the moments of joy and to find meaning in the challenges. My faith in the Creator has been my anchor, guiding me through the stormy seas of life and leading me to calmer waters. Today, I am in a place of gratitude and peace. I continue to run, meditate, and connect with nature, practices that keep me grounded and centered. I cherish the relationships I have built and the community that supports me. I know that my journey is ongoing, and I am committed to continuing my work of healing and advocacy. I am deeply thankful for the opportunities I have had to grow and for the ways in which my experiences have allowed me to touch the lives of others. To anyone reading this who is struggling, know that there is hope. Your pain is real, but it does not define you. You are capable of rising from the ashes, of finding light in the darkest of times. Trust in the Creator, seek support, and take each day as it comes. Your journey is unique, and your story is valuable. Remember, you are not alone, and there is always a way forward, even when the path seems unclear. In sharing my testimony, I hope to inspire you to keep going, to find strength in your struggles, and to believe in the possibility of healing and renewal. The journey may be long and arduous, but with faith, resilience, and the support of a loving community, you can rise from the ashes and discover a life filled with meaning, purpose, and joy.

This is my testimony.

Kateb Shunnar