Realisation #4: Some “me time” is the only therapy I needed.

About 2 months ago, I landed up at the doctor’s because of various physical and mental issues. Different pains in my body and sleepless nights were making it hard for me to carry out the daily responsibilities of a mum living in a foreign land without help. The trauma of a life-threatening delivery a year ago coupled with loneliness and fatigue had left me exhausted. That day as I told the doctor my issues, it felt as if her gaze could pierce through my heart and read everything it had to say. It felt as if I was being heard and understood after a long time.

She suggested some very mild antidepressants to me, a sleeping pill for a while and physiotherapy to get rid of my pains. In addition to the medical advice, she said “Get some help. Get a baby sitter. Look for a daycare”. The impact her gaze left on me was profound. I decided to take the leap and put Bano in childcare, 2 days a week only.

After some research and a few visits, we found a place we liked for our baby. Alhamdulillah, Bano’s transition to the daycare was smooth and soon enough we got the hang of it. Tuesdays and Thursdays were like heavenly treats for me, when both kids would exit the house at 8 am. You know how they say the world is your oyster? That’s what Schaffhausen became for me. I knew instantly what I wanted to do with my time. I wanted to do all those things I longed to do but never could because my body had permanent attachments – a stroller and a hungry/whining/pooping child in it.

I joined a yoga class on Thursday mornings as well as the expat mums’ walking group. I started taking trips to Zurich to see my Pakistani friends and sometimes to just to stroll and shop….watch people, experience big city life. I dedicated a few days to writing at my favourite coffee shop with a cuppa and chocolate croissant. On one Tuesday, I joined the school mums to do something really special – wear Dirndls (the traditional Swiss dresses) and wander about Stein am Rhine (a beautiful little Swiss town), soaking in history and taking photos. There were a few lunches and coffee GTs here and there. I went and lay down in parks all by myself. I climbed the castle steps.

As the weeks passed, I started developing friendships and having a social life. Some days, I found myself running from one plan to another. I felt I could get used to this place! My perpetually stressed mind and physically taxed body started finding some respite. It was not that I had some sort of a postpartum depression or that I was not enjoying becoming a mother again. It was just that it was all too much. Adjusting to a new place where I knew no one put together with a completely different style of life left my muscles constantly tense. Trying to wrap up as much as I could around the house as Bano slept and finishing the grocery as quickly as possible before the biscuit in her hands finished meant I was anxious 24/7 without even a second of a break. And that can be exhausting for a mother! I mean, we cannot fully relax even when we are asleep because that ‘chaadar’ that the baby always pulls off is a constant source of stress, isn’t it?

As I got the chance to have conversations with people who are not 1 or 7 years old, I realized there are so many others in the same boat. So many others who are living away from home, sharing the same issues that I have. If I miss the baara piece wala chicken, there are others too who miss their preferred meat cuts, feel agitated due to not knowing where the next job will be and worry about their children not learning their native language or missing out on certain religious aspects.

This time to myself helped me get some human interaction which I longed for without even realizing it. Getting to laugh with others, sharing experiences, woes and worries made me feel lighter. It gave me more confidence in my abilities to survive in a country other than Pakistan.

So sistas with little pistas, the fact is that mums need some time out – a trip to the salon or to the mall, meeting friends over coffee without worrying about the child throwing a fit over the broken cupcake, or just some time alone at home to read a book and clean in peace. These little breaks can rejuvenate us (gulloocoze ki botal feels) and allow us to make our home a happier place. Plus, presenting yourself to the husband as a calm, content dosheeza rather than drawny Chucky can be a game-changer for our marital life.

A few days ago, when I looked at the antidepressants ka pata lying on the kitchen counter before I left the house, I said to myself “I don’t need these”. And as I walked out of the house feeling really happy about this feeling of genuinely feeling happy, I realized oh my….it’s been days since I actually thought about the ICU bed! “Me time” is perhaps the only therapy I needed.


*This piece was written for and published in Weekend Magazine, The Nation, Pakistan.

**Photo Credit: Jill Meade-Odenbeck. You can check more of her work out here.