The Day I Almost Gave Up — and the Miracle That Made Me Stay

The Day I Almost Gave Up — and the Miracle That Made Me Stay

A real story of rock bottom, a mother’s silent prayers, and the invisible hands that pull us back from the edge.

✍️ By: Hamza Yaqoob

It was a Thursday, and everything inside me was unraveling.

The world didn’t know it, but I was at war. I wasn’t in a hospital saving lives. I wasn’t writing poetry. I wasn’t even surviving. I was just... there. Sitting on the edge of my bed, eyes fixed on a cracked ceiling, textbooks still untouched. The kind of silence that feels louder than any scream had settled in the room.

My phone buzzed beside me. Another message. Another reminder. Another bill.

“Pending: Medicine Refill — Rs. 12,450”

That number wasn’t big to most people. But to someone who hadn’t eaten more than dry bread in two days, who was barely making ends meet by tutoring online at odd hours, it felt enormous. It felt cruel.

My mother was ill again. Her condition wasn’t new, but her medicines were increasing and my hope was thinning. It wasn’t the kind of illness that made people rush to the ICU, but the slow, heavy type that drains you financially and emotionally — drip by drip.

That day, I whispered something I never thought I’d say out loud.

“I can’t do this anymore."

And I meant it.

I had given up once before — years ago — but this time felt deeper. More final.

I thought about quitting medical school. I thought about deleting my Vocal Media account. I even considered walking away from everything — the dreams, the prayers, the versions of me I used to be proud of.

I sat in that silence for what felt like hours.

And then, from the other room, I heard a cough.

It was soft, weak… but enough.

Enough to pull me out of myself.

Enough to remind me that I wasn’t alone in this fight.

I walked into my mother’s room. She was lying on her side, pale but trying to smile as she always did. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for a glass of water. I helped her. She said, “Shukriya, beta,” and in that moment, everything inside me shifted.

I remembered something she told me years ago, when I was a child afraid of injections:

“Hamza, pain is not punishment. Sometimes, it’s a doorway. Allah never forgets the ones who walk through it with patience.”

That night, I didn’t sleep.

I opened my books.

I took another tutoring job — even though it was 2:00 AM.

I wrote a few lines for a new story.

I told myself, you’re allowed to break down, but not to give up.

And something incredible happened that week.

An old student I had taught months ago messaged me out of nowhere:

“Sir, my cousin needs help with MDCAT. Can you tutor her too?”

Another door opened. Then another. It wasn’t a miracle. It wasn’t sudden wealth. But it was a reminder that **life rewards those who don’t leave the table early.

Why I’m Sharing This

If you’re someone quietly drowning in responsibilities, pressure, or fear — this is for you. I see you. I am you.

Maybe you’re the eldest son trying to make ends meet. Maybe you're a daughter with dreams bigger than your bank account. Or maybe you’re just someone who wakes up every day pretending they’re okay.

Let me say this clearly:

You don’t have to win today.

You don’t even have to be strong today.

You just have to stay.

Because sometimes, staying is the biggest act of courage there is.

💭 Final Thought

Rock bottom is not the end of your story.

It’s the part where the plot twists — and the hero begins their rise.