By Khalid Iqbal

May/June 2023

A few weeks ago, I woke up in a daze realizing that I had just fainted. According to my doctors, my neck muscles were too stiff to protect my head and neck. I couldn’t move, turn or rest. 

During my first night home, I realized that I’d have to sleep while sitting in a chair. As this was a recipe for sleeplessness, I soon became lost in my thoughts and allowed depression to take control of my mind — thinking negatively about my past and my future, lost opportunities, my health and life after death. 

Time passed very slowly. I was anxiously waiting for fajr and then sunrise. But it was only 2:15 a.m. — more than three hours until fajr. The night crawled by so slowly, and the sound of the clock’s second hand grew louder as everyone else fell asleep. 

Sometimes I dosed off, but as my neck tilted sideways I woke up crying with pain. The neck brace didn’t help, for the pain was so severe. The doctors gave me strong pain relievers and muscle relaxants, but it seemed that every medication had more adverse side effects. Thinking that it has to be divine punishment for my sins, I tried to remember them and ask for His mercy and blessings.

I noticed that as time passed, I began to be changing. For example, I didn’t have the energy to do anything and was always thinking negatively about myself, the future, life and others. I didn’t enjoy anything anymore, even when my wife made my favorite dishes — I took a few bites and then stopped eating. I felt tired all the time, took a long time to decide what to wear or make simple decisions. I felt worthless and guilty for my non-participation at home and and the masjid, angry and agitated. Every night I thought about death, despite my fear of it, and how my being gone would affect my family. 

Only after I told my doctor did I learn that these are signs of depression and that I needed to see a specialist. By this time, my family had realized what was happening to me. They would listen to me non-judgmentally, even for long periods of time so I could get all my thoughts and concerns off my chest, trying to reassure me and get me to have a positive outlook. This was when my wife pushed me to find a mental health professional and get proper treatment. I’m lucky that my family was always there, engaging me in positive activities. 

The World Health Organization defines mental health as a state of well-being in which the individual realizes his/her ability to cope with stress, can work productively and contribute positively to his/her community

I went to a Virginia senior home to do some political campaigning for a candidate. I met two female residents. The first one, an Indian in her 80s who sews clothes for others to make some extra money, was extremely happy to see me. She asked me to stay a bit longer so we could converse in Punjabi. She told me that she was waiting for her son and grandchildren to visit. When I asked when they had last visited her, she couldn’t remember. She showed the date in her diary — they had visited two years ago.

Although Muslims get a lot of solace from praying and connecting with God to seek His guidance and mercy, our community isn’t immune to mental health issues. Family and marriage issues top the list, along with the death of a loved one, financial difficulties, loneliness, old age and materialism. Our youth are subjected to pressure through social media, Islamophobia, peer pressure, parental divorce, social pressure to excel in their studies, wear fashion and designer clothing and so on. 

Unfortunately, most curable mental health cases go undetected because of certain ill-formed myths and misconceptions, such as people with real mental health issues are violent. Research, however, shows that these people are no more violent than the general public. Another myth is that mental health disorders are signs of weakness and personality flaws 

Labeling people with a mental health issue only causes them to hide it and allow it to worsen. I remember a 15-year-old boy with severe undetected — and therefore unaddressed — depression. His parents only realized its severity after he committed suicide. 

The second lady wanted me to take some money she had saved and put it in the mosque’s zakat box. She had put the money in a pile of plastic shopping bags, along with other stuff, so no one could break in and take it while she was sleeping or when she was out. Being over 80, it took her 5 to 15 minutes to open each bag, most of which only had $5 inside; the rest was trash. 

My wife and I visited these ladies several times. They are getting frail and losing their vision and memory. Now they no longer recognize me. One of them passed away recently. I saw her son and grandchildren at the funeral. I hope they had visited her during her lifetime. 

I related my struggle and recovery to a friend, who referred me to a course on “Mental Health First Aid” offered by Loudoun County. While attending it, I recalled my emotional struggle and negative thoughts. Every bit was true — severe anxiety and depression while struggling to sleep sitting on that chair night after night.

My family, although not trained in mental health first aid, helped me every step of the way. My wife, especially, spent so much time talking with me about positive things, giving me hope and encouraging me to talk to my primary physician. We met, and right away he referred me to a specialist. 

My recovery taught me that dealing with a mental health issue is a deeply personal process of regaining physical, spiritual, mental and emotional balance. My brother and his wife came from Pakistan to visit me. Their presence had a very positive effect on my health, especially my thinking. Our ensuing discussions inspired me to learn how to cope with my situation. We would exercise together or talk about family or other matters. They were supportive and gave me hope, recognized and highlighted my strengths, encouraged me to use them to think positively from a strength-based perspective and helped me develop my self-esteem and coping skills.

The peer support they provided was the best aspect of my recovery. Instead of thinking negatively each night, I started to sleep most of the night and began thinking about positive things. I’d look forward to getting up for tahajjud and ask God for His blessing and mercy. My wife, my brother and his wife would get up and pray together with me. That was such a serene and beautiful environment. 

After the mental health first aid course, I realized that it’s important to become familiar with and how to cope with the various aspects of mental health. We need to learn how to recognize if someone has an issue and talk with them about it in a non-judgmental way, to encourage them to seek professional help and to be there for them throughout their ordeal. This is especially important for parents of young children who sometimes have mood swings, anxiety or depression. Parents must be there for them, to talk with them nicely with love and mercy, to understand their mood(s). 

Just like knowing first aid, mental health first aid will also help support and save lives, especially of those who are depressed and commit suicide or hurt themselves. Our centers and mosques should begin conducting this type of training. 

Khalid Iqbal is founder of Rahmaa Institute, which focuses on issues related to marriage, conflict resolution, divorce, domestic violence and anger prevention. He is an author (“Anger and Domestic Violence Prevention Guide for the Muslim Community”) and speaker who has developed and teaches a comprehensive eight-hour premarital counseling course. He has been married for 50 years and has three wonderful children and ten grandchildren.

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