Depression, really (2)

(Please see About for the purpose of this blog)

PS: For new visitors, I encourage you to read from my first post as my posts are usually continuations. First post here:

Just an update before I continue from my previous post. I wanted to blog yesterday but I was paralysed by my vertigo which seems to be spiking upwards again accompanied with the migraine and nausea. Things were spinning, my vision was blurring.. Misery started to slither in like a snake after its unknowing prey: “You’ve lost everything, everyone, you’ll never be better. See, every time your vertigo improves, it slams right back down again. This is your cross to carry forever until you die. Depression is forever.” I held back tears so that I would not pain my mother. Then the words of Job played on repeat. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!” – Job 1:21
Don’t cry, don’t cry. My God is the healer, give me strength for there are good days and bad. Tomorrow will be better.” I managed to sleep, miraculously, and I am slightly better today. I chose not to spiral down in despair, my spirit looked up to heaven. :) It’s a brand new day. Now, let’s continue shall we?

(continued from the previous post) 

(16 years old) As I walked through the doors, random shouts and noises alerted me. I was ordered to hand over my phone, earrings, comb etc which angered me (I have an issue with authority). I regretted my decision to take my psychiatrist’s advice to be warded immediately, but it was too late. I begged to retract my agreement to no avail. I said goodbye to my parents, took off my shoes and with a tick of a clock my feet felt the myriad explosive flush of sterile emotions attached to the ward almost as if I absorbed the entirety of the mental history of this place like a clairvoyant. “Shit. Shit. Shit. What have I done, what the hell is happening.

I would describe my stay in the Mental Institution in this sentence: The sane becomes insane.

(Do note that I didn’t know God in my life yet at this point)

I befriended two girls slightly younger than I though I knew right from the start that they were there for the lack of attention from their families. Tragic, undeserving backgrounds. We would sneak hairpins, combs, things we could find from the ‘Entertainment’ Room (which was very much like a pathetic storeroom like the one Harry Potter lived in from the famous novel made into a movie),

See also: Claustrophobia inducing.

then we would sneak into the toilets or hide under our blankets at night to try and hurt ourselves with whatever items we found.

The first night, as the ceiling fan steadily sucked the remains of my soul, one of the girls had a breakdown. If I remembered correctly, she refused to go to bed and started ‘acting up’. Two nurses of miniature size with the exorbitant strength of Samson in the bible tied her down with ropes and set off the emergency button. Screaming and curse words poured out incessantly from her and they eventually dragged her on the floor to somewhere else. The dark room I suppose, where they lock those who ‘act out’ in a completely sealed off room with no windows and refuse them water and food until they stop. I was lucky enough to steal a peak into the room once and it looked like an eerily similar set up to those who were gassed to death during Hitler’s reign – fingernail trails, blood stains, torn up floorboards etc.. not to mention we could hear them too.

A series of other incidents like this happened during my short stay there. The adult ward was above us so we would hear violence in verbal and physical forms at almost ‘timed’ periods everyday. There was also a girl who refused to bathe and use the toilet in my ward, a boy who was born mentally unstable and disowned by his parents with a grandmother who was too old to continue taking care of him.

Slowly I realised that there wasn’t ‘supposed’ to be anything wrong with me, right? Why was I there? My best friend at that time came to visit me with her girlfriend. (Lesbianism was very common in my school, a girl’s school) She indirectly blamed me for leaving her alone and the first stab to my heart happened when she told me that everyone at school said that I was doing this for attention. I didn’t know how to react. She took a huge piece of me with her as she left and I felt emptier and more hurt than ever.

As I wandered quiescently among the rest of the mentally afflicted, my thoughts brought me back to my younger days (7-12 years old), how did I get here, to this point? I had a best friend who was really pretty. Everyone wanted to be her best friend and was jealous that I was ‘qualified’ to be. We did everything together, she made me feel special, yet, she also had the ability to make me feel like the most worthless being on the planet. She would be my best friend when she needed entertainment or a good laugh (I was the class clown and drama queen), or simply when she was in a good mood and other times would chuck me aside or not allow me to play with the rest of the kids. I don’t know why I felt so compelled to obey her. We went to the same Secondary (High) school together and within the first year, she left me for someone funnier than I.

The ‘cool kids’ in my class noticed this and fought angrily against her. It was my first time ever that I felt protected by someone else, cared for. Like I belonged. 14 years old; the start of my ‘independence’ HA.HA. Rebelliousness more like. I was included, I was cool. I was loved. By the wrong people. 

Again, I shall continue in my next post.

Do to others whatever you would have them do to you..” – Matthew 7:12

Be kind to one another,

xo, Faith


3 thoughts on “Depression, really (2)

  1. Pingback: Depression (3) | godvsdepression

  2. Pingback: Why Am I Depressed? | godvsdepression

  3. Pingback: My Sister Saved Me | godvsdepression

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