Recently, I attended a reunion of old friends. We all sat together and discussed where we were in our personal and professional lives, whether we had found partners, or become parents. We shared our successes and our personal struggles.

A close friend of mine disclosed that she had been suffering from depression for quite some time, and it was affecting her ability to function on a day-to-day basis.

Immediately, another friend interrupted:

"Yaar you should be grateful, God has given you a good job, a loving husband and a wonderful family! There are others who are less fortunate than you are!"

My friend looked up and mumbled she was grateful and very swiftly the subject of the conversation changed.

Time and again, I have watched people with good intentions advise people with depression to be grateful; to count their blessings.

This 'virtue' of expressing gratitude for everything positive in our lives is deeply embedded within our society, which many seek to legitimise within a religious framework. However, it places pressure to conform to strict binaries:

Either you are grateful or you are not.

Challenging this perception is near impossible, especially when religion is brought into play. How can anyone disagree, let alone confide their struggles, when people constantly and casually use religion to force expressions of gratitude. When they warn us that the path of gratefulness is the path of faith.

Perhaps for some, there is no difference, and being spiritually or ritualistically religious has a positive impact on their mental well-being. I do not deny that this is the truth for some, maybe many people.

However, for many others, this framework trivialises their experiences.

It baffles and exasperates me when people equate a mental health issue such as clinical depression with ingratitude. It offers nothing to the person suffering.

I say this keeping in view my own history of depression and the often unfriendly and unsympathetic advice I have received:

1. Count your blessings

2. Pray more frequently each day

3. Recite specific verses to heal your soul

Take a look: Pakistanis just don't understand depression. This initiative seeks to teach us more

I am a practicing Muslim, and I know I can pray to get better. But just because I suffer from depression does not mean my faith is weak, or that I just have to pray harder.

Although, there are now many forms of treatments and therapies available, an overtly simplistic attitude towards depression, such as viewing the success of treatments as dependent on one’s personal religiosity whilst dismissing its symptoms, is dangerous.

See: Suicide and depression: Can we snap out of snap judgements?

In its worst form, severe depression can lead to suicide. Clinical depression does not get cured in a day by eating chocolate, watching a movie, getting married, or becoming religious.

For many people, depression can become a lifelong experience which they must manage every day.

On good days, the world seems bearable and livable, but at other times, you feel you are being swallowed up by a giant black hole, numbed to world. It is an everyday challenge, and also challenging for the people you live with.

For myself, among other things, depression has ruined a lot of family events; moments where my family could not understand why I was behaving the way I was, wondering whether they had done something to upset me.

There were times I would stay in my closet all day going through old stuff, or I would increase the volume of our old TV until all voices drowned out.

It perplexed and worried those around me that at one moment, I would be all focused and then suddenly, I would phase out as if my surroundings had swallowed me up.

Then there were the outward signs, each of which I individually comprehended, and yet failed to connect: my frequent teary outbursts, sleepless nights, high blood pressure and constant self-criticism.

Through all this, I remained rooted in my Muslim identity, but it did not eliminate this crippling feeling.

Examine: It's okay to not be okay: My struggle with depression

Coming back to feeling grateful, whether or not I am grateful is a personal matter between my God and myself. I cannot allow others to dictate the terms of my relationship with God.

In all honestly, I feel humbled and blessed that I have good support from family and friends and that I am clear-minded enough to still see the difference between a mental health issue that I struggle with, and my personal relationship with my religion.

I detest this casual advice from well-meaning people of showing gratitude.

I wish everything was so simple.

As our friendly social get-together came to an end, and one by one friends hugged and exchanged goodbyes, I was left at the table with the friend who has been struggling.

There was a brief pause before I gathered the courage to ask her how things are for her.

She looked up, smiled and talked uninterrupted without the fear of hell hanging over her.

Do you suffer from clinical depression or other mental health problems? Are you a professional within the field of mental health? Share your story with us by emailing blog@dawn.com