Bipolar disorder, postpartum depression, and Islam

I have  made several attempts to write a post in the past few days.  My thoughts are too scrambled; even my fingers have difficulty typing the words.  I struggle.  To put it shortly.  I am praying, though.  And that alone is keeping me through this.  Keeping me from all the darkness in the life of this world.  I pray and when I pray, I feel Allah with me.

Right now, I am in such a dark place that it is even hard to feel Allah’s love.  To know how much Allah loves me.  Sometimes I say to myself, “shame on me” for not feeling Allah’s love.  But it is not “shame on me.”  It is not.  It is all about my mindset and the firmness I feel in my religion.  It is about loving myself again.

I have low self-esteem.  Right?  Don’t know.

All I do know is that I need to feel loved.  and I need to accept that love.  I need to accept the help that Allah sends to me in whatever shape or form it is in.

I will hesitate to post this post.  So I’m going to do it quickly and without thought.  Even without a final period to the end of this sentence


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