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This Female Doctor Shares Heartbreaking Details Of How Depression Strikes Her Every Night

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“Is everything alright with you, Zarnain?”, “Are you depressed?”. These are the questions I was asked in response to what I’ve been writing lately on Instagram.

As a matter of fact, I’m not depressed. In fact, if you come to know me, you’d find me to be one of the most smiling persons around. Someone who loves her job and is intrigued by the place where she works every single day. After work, you’d find me joking around with my colleagues, sharing meals with nurses, gossiping with the URs and what not. But when I’m done with the day, and as I begin to switch off the swing arm lamp & close my eyes, that’s when it strikes me.

Source: CPSD

That young girl, who was abandoned by her husband 7 years ago-only 2 months after their marriage for the only reason that she had an overactive bladder i.e she had to go to pee every hour as it was beyond her control. He found leaving her to be more convenient than seeking treatment. She comes in front of my eyes and asks me if its that easy to give up on someone you love?

That annoying attendant-daughter of an elderly man with CA prostate who got me paged 5 times only to discuss the same thing every time, treatment options for her dad & the highlights and challenges of each option. She asks me if I’d ever been able to beat her by taking care of my parents better than she takes care of hers?

Source: YouTube

That frail man with respiratory failure, who was on BIPAP & needed frequent ABGs. Every time I went to take his sample, he would shake his head with teary eyes as if not granting me the permission to prick. But the family would insist me to go ahead, the resident rejected my request to honor the patient’s wish, and the pulmonology team demanded the tests. He comes to me and asks me to apologize. Apologize for the pain that I caused him with each prick for the sake of his own health.

The last time I prayed at my hospital’s mosque, a lady praying beside me began screaming, “Why did you do this to me, Allah?, Why? What did I do to deserve this?” Her voice still echoes in my mind. I fail to forget it.

So, I wake up, turn the light on, and write. I write till my fingers hurt. I shed tears because for some of us this human experience has been a little too painful. And for others, the pain is awaiting us on the other side. The clock is ticking. The grim reaper is longing for us. For all of us.

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