7 Months after February 14

A couple of days ago, I asked for other writers to contribute to my blog.  I want to turn my blog into be a voice of moderation among all the online polarisation that is going on in Bahrain.  Well, I got my first contribution, by Dr. Mohamed Mustafa, a frequent reader of this blog.  Thank you Mohamed for sharing so openly and honestly.  God bless.
– Suhail Algosaibi

Its been seven months and two weeks since February 14th 2011. The day my life, my country, my home, irreversibly changed. Seven and a half months of fighting. Seven and a half months defending. Seven and a half months of hate, of sadness, of worry, of hope. Its been a frightening roller coaster, and I have a feeling the ride isn’t even half way through.

It has been seven and a half months of mixed emotions. There were days where I was filled with rage, rage at watching people destroy my country, rage at reading the lies and twisted truths in the media. There were days, particularly the early days, of fear. Fear that we’ve lost our country, fear for my life and my families lives, fear that violence will escalate to a level of no return. Fear that this country will burn to the ground with hate and civil war. There were days when I felt hopeful, hopeful that this can be fixed, that its not too late, that there’s a solution. There were days of pride and patriotism, and love. Love for this country, for my home; for the highways,alleys, beaches, schools I’ve grown up in. For the people I’ve known all my life. There were days of hate, hate for those who did this and continue to do everything in their power to take my home from me. But there were also days where I felt a little more forgiving. I wanted to forgive and forget, but it never lasts. Every time I try to forgive and start a new page, something always happens, a protest, an attack, something, that makes that glimmer of forgiveness in my heart disappear.

It breaks my heart, BREAKS MY HEART, to see what Bahrain has become now. There are cops everywhere on the streets. There are rioters clashing with cops every night. The smell of tear gas has become a normal everyday thing. If you look up, chances are you’ll see a helicopter in the sky, keeping an eye on things. And somehow, at some point during the last seven months this became ‘normal’, like its there, and its ok, like we’ve gotten used to it. It SHOULD NOT feel normal! When the hell did that happen?? I want my country back. I want things to be the way they used to be. To feel safe. To feel the stability and comfort I felt.

Recently its all gotten to me. I think I finally broke after months of dealing with the hate, fighting back the lies, seeing how evil and vindictive humans can become when they have a cause. I feel like a loved one died and I’m trying to grieve and move on but I can’t. Its hurts so much. A kind of hurt that eats deep down in your soul. Yes, I smile, I laugh, I go to work, I live, but …I’m sad, really sad, like there’s this dark gloomy cloud above me that follows me everywhere I go. I feel an ache in my heart that won’t go away. A sadness, a constant worry, a constant feeling of ‘impending doom’, and I don’t know how to make it go away. I don’t know how to make things better. Sometimes I’d be sitting with people or doing something normal like having a meal or watching TV, and all of sudden I have this urge to cry. The tears are in the corner of my eyes, but I don’t dare let them flow, lest someone see this weak side of me. I just want to sit down in a dark corner alone and cry my heart out. I know it doesn’t help or make anything better, but I don’t care. But I don’t let myself do that. I try to fight it and lift myself up. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. I don’t know if its normal to feel this way, I don’t know how long it will last, I don’t if I or Bahrain will ever go back to being normal again. I like to believe we will recover. I’m adamant to not give in to this sinking feeling of hopelessness.

I don’t know what to do, but I’ll try.

Mohamed Mustafa


Mohamed Mustafa is a 29 year old Doctor who occasionally blogs about Medicine and politics. You can follow him on Twitter @MoMustafaMD.

5 Responses to 7 Months after February 14

  1. Suhail 14 October 2011 at 2:53 am #

    Thanks for sharing opening and honestly Mohamed. God bless.
    If anyone else wants to contribute, see details here:

  2. Alia Almoayed 14 October 2011 at 3:08 am #

    Very honest article. I can relate to all these emotions. Thanks for sharing

  3. Ali 14 October 2011 at 3:19 am #

    “It breaks my heart, BREAKS MY HEART, to see what Bahrain has become now. There are cops everywhere on the streets. There are rioters clashing with cops every night.”

    it may have been peaceful in your neighborhood before feb 2011 but we who were living in the villages got used to the government shooting teargas at our homes since 2008!

    i hope the current crisis will eventually teach people to break their selfishness and fight injustice even if its not on their doorstep or not affecting them because in a small country like bahrain the people are like one body when one part is not well it will soon spread to the whole if not cured.

    and the first thing to fight is ignorance!

  4. Dina Fakhro 14 October 2011 at 5:52 am #

    A painfully poignant and well-written article that resonates deeply with me…hate is becoming all too prevalent these days and hopefully we can eradicate it once and for all! Bahrain is too precious to become a tiny, forsaken island…

  5. Cathy 15 October 2011 at 7:44 am #

    Straight from the heart. Crying is a natural way for the body to release stress when grieving. Crying is not weak. It is healthy. It is the first step in healing. I pray that Bahrain heals b/c this island is too special not to try and move forward.

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