In the midst of my struggle, I reached out to my uncle, my spiritual guide and supporter. I shared everything about my situation, and he didn’t hesitate—he came all the way to see me. He performed some prayers, and the next day, I felt a sense of relief. I felt like things might finally get better.
Seeing how much I needed support, my husband decided we should go to my hometown to bring my parents back with us. Since he couldn’t keep taking leave to take care of me, having them around would be comforting for me. On the way to my hometown, I felt normal, even good. For a moment, I thought I was recovering.
When we reached my mother’s home, though, I started to feel shivers running through my body. I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want to worry my parents. I just told them I was recovering. I tried to stay strong, meeting my family and putting on a smile.
Later that day, my male best friend came all the way to see me. His visit felt like a ray of light in my storm. Seeing him brought a sense of relief. For the first time in what felt like ages, I laughed so hard that my cheeks started to hurt. It reminded me of how much I’d missed being carefree.
The next day, it was time to head back to Johor Bahru. There was a small prayer at my auntie’s house before we left, and during that time, I experienced another anxiety attack. It came out of nowhere, and I had no choice but to take the anxiety medication prescribed by the doctor.
I had visited a doctor before heading to my hometown, and the doctor confirmed that I was suffering from anxiety. Though I had been reluctant to take the medication, I realized I had no other choice in that moment. After taking it, I slept through most of the journey back to Johor Bahru. My parents followed us, and having them around made me feel a little safer.
The next day, however, I experienced another terrible attack. I struggled to hide it from my parents and forced myself to go to work. At work, I couldn’t eat, sit still, or concentrate. It was one of the hardest days of my life, but I pushed through and waited for the clock to hit 6 PM.
The moment I got home, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I finally told my parents the truth about what I had been going through. I broke down in front of them, crying uncontrollably. They were shocked and couldn’t believe the extent of my suffering. It was the first time I let them see the reality of my struggle.
ns 15.158.61.17da2
