1
I suspected I had an incurable disease.
In 2013, through the introduction of my cousin, I found a job as a hotel waiter. It was a job where I had to change shifts every half month, and for certain unspecified reasons, my mental and emotional state became extremely unstable.
About two years later, I shockingly suspected that I had prostatitis. I immediately resigned and went home. After returning, misled by certain journals, I thought it was shameful to have a prostate issue, so I secretly went to the Disease Control Center for an examination without telling my parents. After some explanations from the doctor, I increasingly feared that I had an incurable disease.
Coincidentally, later on, my uncle had a wedding, and my father and I went to the banquet. At first, my uncle gathered the female waitstaff together, and then my aunt jokingly said I should pick a bride. By then, my thoughts had already become somewhat chaotic, but I still clearly remembered to refuse her request.
Prior to this, at another cousin’s wedding, during the ceremony when the bride and groom were bowing, I think I saw my father’s disappointed gaze, and for some reason, I imagined my future cousin-in-law as a high school classmate. Before this, because I missed my deceased sister, I even attempted to commit suicide by jumping out the window, but fortunately, a neighbor discovered me in time and saved my life.
Later, my father said he wanted to take me for an examination, but I firmly believed that I was not ill. However, I never expected this would mark the beginning of my eight-year battle with schizophrenia.
2
Diagnosed with “schizophrenia.”
So, I went to the hospital to register. Previously, I had a nonsensical quarrel with my grandfather, and when my father explained my condition to the doctor, he mainly said that I had mental issues and was talking nonsense. Then, I was admitted to the psychiatric department.
The doctor who took my pulse was an elderly man with white hair. I said I wanted to lie on one of the examination beds, and while my father urged me to calm down, the doctor agreed to my request, took my pulse, and diagnosed me with schizophrenia. I was immediately admitted to the hospital.
During that time, I even imagined one doctor as my other uncle and secretly followed the nurse, trying to go home. Fortunately, the doctor helped me out to prevent me from getting into serious trouble.
After leaving the hospital and going for further treatment with no results, I was sent to a designated hospital in Xi’an for treatment. Upon arrival, after some examinations, they said I needed to undergo a surgery for brain cell division, which involved making several incisions in the back of my head and back, followed by applying and taking medication.
At that time, I was particularly anxious. I still remember the lead surgeon, who kept comforting me not to be nervous. Afterward, I was given two large bags of Chinese and Western medicine and began the time of taking half a cup at a time.
However, my condition showed no signs of improvement.
At this point, I started blaming my father, imagining that someone was trying to kill me, even suspecting that one of my father’s brothers had been sent by an organization to murder me.
During that time, my father invited a local doctor to come to my home daily to give me intravenous injections of gastrodin. Once I took those oral and injection medications, I became drowsy all day long.
