I am sorry if what I am about to write violates the rules, but I don't think I have anywhere else to turn to for assistance. And yes, this is a burner account to maintain my privacy.
I am a male residing in Canada, born to a Muslim household. I will not reveal my exact age to do my best at honouring the rules, but I would like some advice for my course of action for what I am about to reveal next. When I was just a little kid, my parents separated. I remember one day Mama packed suitcases with our clothes in it, brought some of my LEGOs, and the two of us and my younger brother left in a taxi for a women's shelter, all while Baba was in the Middle East for work. At the time, I didn't know what was happening, and if I did, I now realize that by my past innocence, I would have been incapable of understanding. Of the less-than-majority of families that are destroyed, by my luck, I just so happened to have been birthed into that subgroup. 2 years after the fact, my parents officially divorced, and Baba lost his job in the same year.
So much money that could have gone to myself and my brother was lost as a result. Consequentially, 4 years later without having the adequate funds, he had to sell the house. And, of course, he just so happened to have been forced to sell his home when houses costed a fraction of what they are priced at today. Since Baba had lost his job, he turned to day-trading. For all of another 2 years, he struggled with this skill and lost large sums of money, with the circumstances degrading to the point of having to worry about rent and acquiring sustenance. I remember once that, when Baba was dropping me off with Mama, he hugged us and walked away, crying. I couldn't understand why. For all that time, I had prayed that he could be successful with day-trading, or that he could land work that paid handsomely, the latter of which ended up happening by the end of these 2 years.
For a time, it seemed there would be peace, an escape from this nightmare, but it was not meant to be, as he was laid off after little more than a year later. Then I thought this cycle of torment was going to occur again, until he had some degree of success with day-trading. It took a few months of struggle, but he was able to make more money in a few weeks than any of his jobs would have paid him in months. And so, we moved to rent a larger place, now that he had the means for this.
Another 2 years later, and here I am, writing this, struggling to keep my eyes dry. For a short while, Baba had success day-trading, until as of last year, he has been struggling to make anything. It seems as though this cycle just repeats itself. I have been praying to Allah where I can, and while I see some improvement in this situation, it is only short-lived. I don't know what else I can do. Day-trading is extremely difficult, and I don't even have the funds to get started. I have no experience yet, I have had no luck acquiring a job, not even one that pays minimally. My Baba can't get a job because of racism and that the oil-patch has little activity.
If Allah exists, and I want every reason to believe He does and He listens to my asking, why must we always struggle? There are lots of families that seem to have it all, and they have never had to struggle with wealth. Sometimes I just wish I never entered this world, and while some may argue that life is precious and that life has meaning, an embryo can be grown from so much as a Petri dish, with singular cells of sperm and ovum. Not just that, but what of all the beings in this world that have destroyed the lives of others? And while I am aware that there are people in situations that could not even compare to what I have to deal with, for instance, the people of Palestine, they too have my prayers. So many nights I would just weep, wishing I would not have to wake up the following morning, asking myself why Allah has allowed my parents to have me if this is where I have ended up. Does Allah loathe and resent me? In all honesty, I am terrified of what is about to happen in regards to our finances. No one deserves to struggle.
For all those that have made it to the end, I would like to thank you for taking your time to read this. As I have come to learn as I have grown older, time is one of the most valuable resources one can have, so truly, I appreciate your efforts.
