Turfa Oz

Turfa Oz

A researcher, pharmaceutical scientist, biologist. A science lover who also talks about philosophy, astronomy and art. A not-so-typical Feminist. Liberal.
Turfa Oz

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Depression.. I’ve seen people talking about it. Some said: “You need to pray more.” Or “God is angry with you” Some told me these “phases” were just punishments and tests. Ever since I was born, I was weak, sad, upset. Nobody was ready to believe the doctor when he said this 7 years old has anxiety disorder and depression. Kids can’t feel that way, they said. While people around me won’t even acknowledge my pain and sufferings I wanted to scream out loud, maybe create some scars? Maybe bleed a little? Would they believe me then? Oh no it’s all my fault maybe I’m just overreacting!

I didn’t even know how it feels like to live without anxiety and panic attacks. Whenever I had a panic attack, they told me that I was the cause of embarrassment for others. I always wondered why? Why is it something to be ashamed of? It was like an ugly abnormal scar on my body. People won’t realize how painful it is rather it was just disgusting. “Oh maybe I don’t deserve this. Why? What am I? an animal?”  That’s exactly what my thinking pattern was like.

The voices in my head told me, I should give up and maybe, maybe this world would be a better place without me.

“but what about a few people in my life that actually love me?”

“Oh do they?”

“Maybe they do, they just can’t feel what I feel”

“You can’t just keep trying. They will never understand!”

“Shut up please” (screams) and then I cried myself to sleep.

These little monsters were not little. At times they were quite little demons, making me do something stupid. The other time they were big, huge freaks telling me I should kill myself. The voices were absent at times. At times they were louder than any sound I had ever heard.

“You will never get there”

And I can’t believe I trusted those voices until one day I was so sick of it all. One shot. I had one shot. One day I told myself, Let’s take a dive and see if we survive. I was so used to the pain I was ready to take a bullet and die because that can’t be worse than this. It was hard, looking for a cure or as I call it: Looking for a way to kill these demons. I could hear them laughing and telling me that “You’re insane. That’s you. We are a part of you. We die, you die” For the first time in my life I was so confident about this. My response was “If this only ends with my life, I’m ready to die”

I DIDN’T.

I finally found the treatment that would make me feel better. It was painful. People told me: “you’re shivering” , “ you’re sleepy” , “you’re overeating” , “these medicines are driving you nuts” I remember one of my professors called me a druggie during the class and everybody laughed. Nobody knew the story. It didn’t bother me like that. It might be because it wasn’t something new for me.

One day I woke up and realized that my face wasn’t normal. The muscles were stretched and I thought I was going to get a paralysis. I felt really bad that day. “So this is how it ends right?” I said to myself. “At least we didn’t give up. We might lose it all but not like this. Not to these monsters” You see, It wasn’t me anymore. I had friends. I found friends within myself. Every time they tried to kill me, A better half of me was born. There was this army of my “ psychological clones” I wasn’t one unit. Inside my head was a city. City made up of hundreds of me that “died” physically.

I thought wars leave signs of destruction. That was true in my case. A lot of damage had been done but it made me grow even more. It made me stronger than ever.  I fought a war against myself and I survived. Fighting with the world is easy. Fighting with yourself is not. Don’t take this for granted. If you love them, don’t deny this issue. One day they will be all good but they won’t feel the same about you anymore.

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