Dove gave me the chance to discuss depression, David encouraged me to put this topic on the root article, Joan’s story inspire me to talk about my depression history. But I am still afraid that people here maybe think I am self-concentrated person, or they already get enough negative stories from me. So just let me try a little bit.
When I was a little girl, I learned from my mum that my grandmother from my mother side once committed suicide by taking a lot sleeping pills when she was afraid she could not raise three children up by herself after her husband past away, but she survived too. And in my memory, my grandmother has some mental disorder, such as she would talk to the air, complain there was someone attacked her vagina, fighting with someone in the air. I mention it because I doubt whether I have family history or something.
I believe that you don’t suddenly get depression. Depression just like the volcano exploded. Before the explosion, you have been endured for a long time.
I had eight years happy childhood before my brother was born. I hate to talk about this story; and I love my brother, I care about him a lot, I try my best to help him, to guide him. But my life was changed after he was born. In the soap opera “Sex and the City”, the author said, “Can you forgive when you can’t forget?” But I forgive my father because he didn’t know how to be a father (because he lost his father when he was seven years old, there was no sample for him to learn from), he didn’t know he hurt me so deeply.
I was leaping home when I heard my mum and my newborn brother have arrived home from the hospital. (My parents paid high penalty for this boy because 80’s were the beginning of birth control policy in China). I run into my parents’bedroon with fully cheer. I was so curious to see the new baby. Maybe I was too exciting when my father came in. He asked me to calm down; he said I might scare the baby. And I maybe calmed down for a minute then forgot again, so he smacked me, then I started crying, then he pulled me out of the room as the punishment. I was rejected to share the family joy out of the door. It was happened twenty-three years ago, but still vivid in my mind. I really want to hug the poor girl in my arm, comfort her, and tell her how much I love her.
Anyhow, I was no longer center of the family. Here are two more stories I remember during that period.
I’m always afraid of worm kind bugs. I would scream when I saw them. I am still afraid of them but I won’t scream any more since I have grown up. One evening, I saw a hairy worm crawling on the floor, I yelled without thinking which shocked everybody in the room. My father’s first reaction was smacked me, “ What’s the hell are you doing?” “The bug…” “Just a bug, what’s so scaring? Next time you screaming like this, I will put the bug on you cloth.” I cried. “Be quiet. Stop crying otherwise I put the bug on you cloth.” I held my breath; stop making any noises because I was so afraid he would did so.
Another one. One day, my father took my brother and me to the biggest park in the city. That year, my brother maybe only four years old, I don’t remember. It was grate in the beginning until suddenly we found my brother was missing.The whole afternoon we were looking for him without any result. That moment, I didn’t feel sorry since I didn’t feel my brother was important in my life. I just followed my father looking all over the park without any feeling. Maybe my careless irritated my father, he said the follow words with all his hostility,“ You think I will treat you better without your brother? Don’t even dream about it. I will treat you worse.” I knew he wished I were the losing one.
When we arrived home, my brother magically arrived home even earlier than us. Turned out that, when we were scattered, he found his way to the bus station and took the bus home. It was a really magic because he had to transfer on another bus stop and he didn’t make any mistake (get into the wrong bus or wrong direction). For four years old boy, it was amazing. It was also lucky, twenty years ago, didn’t have many bad people whom kidnap and sell boys. Anyhow, my brother was safe. All the family members and the neighbors complimented that my brother was brave and smart. And my father was so proud of him. Nobody even looked me or talked to me. I was the forgotten one.
