A few days ago diagnosed with depression + bipolar disorder. According to the doctor’s diagnosis, at least bipolar disorder should have started in junior high school. The reason is family pressure. The parents’ demands were too strict, and if I didn’t rank first in the class in my childhood, I would be slapped. Being punished and having my hair cut because they thought I washed my hair too often and cared too much about my appearance become a routine in my family. Fortunately, one of the things I am most grateful for growing up was coming to study in Beijing, which had a much better influence being far away.
When I first entered college, I was very afraid to go home or talk to them. This issue has been brought up many times, even extending to acts of domestic violence. Regarding being tormented by depression, I actually think, rather than saying it was “tormented” by it, it was more like the original family was the one who “tormented.” Concerning depression, I actually read a lot of materials on regulating emotions when I first entered college, and consciously observed how others interacted with the world. Now, I am not socially anxious, not afraid of normal emotional interactions, and even praised for having a “high emotional intelligence.” However, depression has indeed brought me some very bad influences, some of which may be extremely lethal.
First, this is also a point I greatly resent; it did have a very negative impact on my academic performance. With low efficiency during depressive episodes, not wanting to go out, and so on, significantly affecting my studies. It even changed my previously planned study mode, making me chase one deadline after another. Especially in winter, situations where nothing could be completed in a week occurred. Based on my personal standards, I always feel that without it, I could perform better. Second, a more fatal point is that there is no safety net in my emotional world. I often liken my state to being at the bottom of the water, cold, dark. Since I’ve been in this state for so long, I don’t know where the breakdown limit is when sinking into deeper waters. I might inadvertently cross that line. I remember during college once, I sought reconciliation with my ex, and after being strung along for three months without a word, he abruptly cut off contact and was with another girl on the same day.
Initially, I was proactive in communicating, but gradually things felt off; I couldn’t focus on reading, didn’t want to go out, avoided people. I took a depression self-test and scored 84 points. I have always been deeply troubled by this. I have attempted to negotiate with him in the past few days. I just wanted an apology; after all, in an 84-point state, it could be a minute-by-minute decision to choose eternal sleep, as he indirectly would kill me. However, what I received was only accusations like “What were you like at that time.” Sickening. My ex graduated from Fudan, clearly high academic qualifications can filter out students who are poor learners but not those who are morally lacking. His presence even made me hold extreme biases against most Fudan male students. The most recent almost breakdown came from my recent ex-boyfriend. Honestly, this relationship and the breakdown mentioned earlier are not the same. In this relationship, I have always tried to play the role of resolving problems and smoothing conflicts. However, the EX was uncooperative. Refusing to face his emotions directly, always evading through tantrums and pouting. This way, his emotional needs were protected, but mine were never satisfied. The last incendiary sentence was, “I have never completely believed in you.” This made me feel like three years of emotions and efforts were all for naught. I don’t hate him; I understand his malice is different from the Fudan EX, he is just selfish. But indeed, I slid into deeper waters, and this time, the score was 76 points.
Of course, the deepest issue remains the family problem. A few days ago, I showed my parents the diagnosis of depression and the medical bills. Unexpectedly but not surprisingly, instead of comfort, my father asked me to report this semester’s expenses to him, wanting to audit my spending situation. When I saw the message, it was fine, but in the evening when I went out to buy dinner, I suddenly felt desolate, losing interest in everything. Afterwards, I sent screenshots to the family group, and everyone called to comfort me. Later, my boyfriend also accompanied me, preventing things from getting worse. Thirdly, it’s closely related to the second point—I feel that life has no real meaning. At first glance, this seems very existential in thought, but it actually contains a proposition that equates to life and death. Saying it’s equivalent is not accurate; in my understanding, the boundary between life and death is blurry. It’s not a binary opposition; life is not always colorful, and death is not always black and white. From these derived thoughts, I became very punk-like, wishing for the earth to explode faster, questioning why we need to procreate, and similar ideas.
However, please note that it’s not because I want to be cool to have these thoughts; instead, I genuinely perceive them this way. Although philosophizing about the meaninglessness of life is fine itself, when it becomes a norm, it further weakens the safety lock during a depressive episode. Overall, I think I am a resilient depression patient. Although in the quagmire, I keep struggling with many methods. When it comes to depression alone, I believe I can handle it. Perhaps the greater challenge for me is the continuous pressure from the original family. On this, I am very grateful to my boyfriend; he is the only one who told me that it’s okay to run away. Before, I was always someone who actively sought to solve problems, and those around me always asked me to resolve them, even concerning my original family issues. A deadly issue in this is that human energy and willpower are limited; if the results of problem-solving are not satisfactory enough, it may deplete even more.
If I choose to end everything, I won’t care about what others think. These responses and this issue are entirely useless; they are counterproductive, and most replies strongly upset me. I can only say that I hope those who care about me won’t be sad because of me. I will try my best. But if one day I don’t feel like trying, please don’t blame me. I need understanding, not demands.
