I'm 24 now, my first suicide attempt was 12 years ago. I remember that day well, It wasn't really I wanted to die, accually I wasn't very certain about what I was doing that moment, when I swallowed half bottle of the sleeping pills, yeah, I didn't take all of them, because I didn't really want to die. Nothing dramatic happened in that incident, I just fell asleep very soon, and woke up the next morning with a severe headach, none of my family knows that, they didn't ever noticed that 20 pills was missing in that transparent plastic little bottle. I went to school that morning, and such was my first suicide. Whatever will come comes soon.
Why? Why me, why so, why not? yeah, I think about this often, I got confused too, I have problem remembering things happened in everyday life, I don't remember the very context of my behaviour, probably that was because I got too confused about the validity of my existence. FLUXUS.
I was always the youngest in the classroom before University, 2 years under the everage age. Chinese education system is a simple one, kids are supposed to enter school at age 7. We have 6 years elementary school, 3 years middle school, 3 years high school, and then higher education, normally 3-5 years, depending on which major to take. Guess what, big kids in the classroom won't play with me, the picture of a 5-year in a group of 7-year is ugly, what made things even harder was that , the school I entered was affiliated to the college where parents work at, no secret in the little community, so just everyone knew my father was alcoholic and he had a gun, it's impossible for me to invite anyone to my house. I think that's when the seeds of my depression was planted, I can't remember if there was once a moment in my life I could feel secure. What's going on in this world??
All through my childhood, I'd been worrying. I worried that my father would finally kill my mother; I worried that my little sister, who was 3 years younger than me, may be bullied by others; I worries about what would happen to me if my words/silence make my father angry; I worried that what if I could never be smart enough to act/speak/dress like those kids who have lots friends in the classroom, because I was the stupid little one to be taken care of, according to my teachers. "all around me are familiar faces, worn out places, worn out faces. Bright and early for their daily races, going no where, going no where ..."
Things became much better when I got in the grade 4, my family moved out of the college region in order to hide from the One-Child-Policy scrutiny group: my sister, Xin, was illegal at that moment, before she entered middle school, she had been said an adopted child of the family. I found friends in the new region which lies in the edge of the small city. It was a whole new world. From the balcony I could see the desert, vast, hollow, shining under the summer sky behind an ugly man-made forest which was there to stop the desert from coming to me. I was set free. Those two and half years were the happiest period in my life. I went home with my sister and the new friends every day, crossing a huge gardon which belongs to the local desert control institution. I remember one day on our way back home, some policmen walked by, when Xin, with an big ugly school bag on her little back, grasped my lappet, said: "Sister, are they coming to take me away? " ONCE UPON A TIME....
She was the gift from heaven. I became stronger and stronger because Xin always looked up to me with her innocent eyes, so scared, so fragile yet so bright. Her little beautiful face told me I have to protect her. All through my way fighting depression, this picture of her face have been giving me strength and a wonderful feeling of being needed. Couple of years earlier when my ex-boyfriend and I was walking cross the Bell Square of Xi'an City, a girl with a dirty bawl came to me. She was about 4 years old, yet a professional begger. She looked up to me in the same manner as my sister did, I felt my tears came out at the very moment when I looked to her, fuck, the same eyes, the same fragile face. The next minute, my sick neurons set my emotion right into the anger code , or even beyond. I walked up to the old woman behind her, bursted out with my female Death growl one inch right before her face, I can't clearly remember what I shouted to the woman, maybe started with "老子干你" with an emphasized and prolonged third syllable as I normally do, literally means "I fuck you". Yah, woman, cities are dangous. (Every one in Xi'an City knows that some poor people from villeges would bring 3-5 years old children into this city and train them as good beggers, or thieves, government don't give a shit, citizens just take it as a local phenomenon.) All through the years in chaos, in the dark moments, Xin has been protecting me, by needing me. Darkness makes a sparkle brighter than the summer Sun.
In the Middle school and the High school there was nothing new in essence, My situation didn't turn any different, if not just see from the surface. Days of Rebelion. I had great fun by challenging the social norms, a young noncomformist. My strong background in violence and alcoholism helped me being a winner in the jungle of teenagers. I never feared when fighting a boy, you know, it's funny, I advanced and got more professional in violence in those years, I learned from fighting boys that physical is not the whole story, spirit and faith counts for a lot, being angry was my speciality, lol, when I lost temper, I lost fear, when I lost fear, others started to fear. Soon, I found a sweet secured group of my own, for the first time I felt something resembles identity. After the first year, I didn't need to fight in person any more, my friends would do it for me. In China, you got friends, you got everything. I don't think it's right to kick those innocent little asses just because they belong to someone who I don't like, well, okay, I admit it's stupid, but you know teenagers, they all have the protential of being some son-of-bitch. Chinese culture is nothing tolerant, for female, so I put myself even further to the boundery of society, and could never come back. My psychiatrist said she never met anyone like me, I like what she told to me, and I like her, though she didn't helped me a lot. to tell the truth, I can't remember how was it like, to belong to somewhere. Bad things happen to kids when they don't wanna go home. Be sure of that. I don't belong here.
University was the place where my symptoms finally manifested themselves, overwhelmingly, after a long tiring latent phrase. Depression, Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, Eating Disorder, Suicide Tendency, Unsocialized, it was like hell, if just look into the diagnoses. But amazingly, when I look back, I feel thankful for all those symptons. Sickness isn't the problem itself, sickness is actually the solution for problems. When we failed to take care of ourselves, of eachother, sickness would take care of us, when sickness failed to take care of us, death would. hehe, there is always a solution, no matter you want it or not. The solution of nature can always make thing right, we are not the center, we're just near to the center.
Some times, I am a little bit Tao. Funny thinking it's my family that is pushing me into problems, and it's also my family that is dragging me out from time to time. I lost my ability to draw a clear line between good and bad. It's been long I can't tell apart sick and healthy, good and bad. I complained, and am still complaining, about my family, my culture.... I'm thankful too, for life seems always hard to give up, and the world is always big enough for individuals like me to find a way out of the shity situations, I mean, it's always possible to become better, though most times things just not happen this way. I found a way to cop with my problem, that is, to manage to be objective.
Hehe, this do not mean I can understand everything by being objective, then be happy and alright. No no no, people understand only when they are in subjective perception, we understand only when we see what they want to see, by being sure of a sort of TRUTH , we feel ourself qualified to hate or even to kill. Damn, I feel sad about this fact. Being objective means one have to see what are unwanted and unpleasant, this is not comfortable at all. Objective description leads to but confusion. That's why politicians and Pops use the word "I'm sure" when stating personal views in order to herd you guys around. While scientists always say"I don't know" to left you in nowhere. I'm emotionally sick, so I don't think I'm right about how should the society run, but I do think the feeling of certainty lead to pride, fever, or even SIN; and confusion make us humble under nature thus be less harmful for eachother.
I can see the long long way ahead for me to go, to get out of depression, or maybe it's too long to walk through in one life, pity I'm a zendic, this life is everything for me.
I still feel sad, so fucking sad for every thing, even for my writing of memoria.
