There are two types of psychiatric hospitalizations for depression in Singapore: voluntary hospitalization and forced hospitalization. The first is when you feel that you are not feeling well, you need professional help, and the second is simply that the people around you feel you are a danger to them or to yourself, so they drag you into the car, ignore your crying words, beg, explain, and throw you in a place and "hundred thanks to you".
The key difference between these two options is the amount of time you have to stay at the hospital, if you go in voluntarily, you can simply be examined and examined then you can go immediately, if you already belong the form of being "arrested", you will be kept at least for a week, for the longest time.
The nature of this is inherently wrong, I think if you went into the hospital and said you wanted to die, you felt you needed help, then you really need help in some way. . No one innocent wants to go to prison, no ordinary person wants to be locked up in the same room as those who are capable of endangering themselves and society. They may not need to be hospitalized, maybe they don't need prescription medication right away, but their problem has to be really big for them, for them to push themselves and resort to a dead end like that. And if not resolved, it will get bigger only, until one day it will happen.
However, those calls for help are sometimes ignored simply because a graduate of the psychology department of some abc school said "you are not crazy enough for us to care". Or, even worse reasons will be pulled out: "My hospital is full" (this happens more often than you think), "you have no criminal record" (crazy first time free), or "I'm afraid you can't afford it if you have to stay long so I let you out".
The first time I entered a psychiatric ward, I was forced into a hospital. It was also funny to talk about going to a psychiatric camp that was supposed to be a big deal in human life, but I really don't even remember the reason why I was caught. I just remember it as the beginning, the beginning of all the bad things kept to myself (but it's not yet ripe so I'm still actively devoted to society). So, my first changes were so obvious, it freaked out people around me, it was like puberty my parents were crying: "Oh my god, who is my little girl turning into, don't grow too fast! " Besides, when it was very early, everyone thought it would be cured from an early age. Consequently, fast and light, I was granted a psychiatric certificate once.
I had to stay in the hospital for almost ten days, because depression, self-harm, bulimia, anxiety, delusive with a psychosis tendencies were all there. I struggled, of course, but I also lived in camp with a curiosity, I wanted to know if the people here are like me, and what if I met me it would be.
It's also like traveling, a new land, new people, with strange customs and voices. I shared a room with a girl my age who used a flashlight every midnight, opening my eyes to see if I was an alien. On schedule, every time as careful as one, making me roll my eyes up, down, left, right, then one, two, three, left, one, two, three, right click. The result is always negative. I asked my friend the cause of this, but she never said anything. If at that time you called me a real alien then I would be relieved, you find my reason, I can also explain why I am different - but every night we still wait, and say The answer is still not coming, just hanging somewhere like my spaceship.
The second time I was hospitalized was after an extremely bad period of eating disorder. It's a cycle that never stops - I'm better, I'm worse, I'm worst, I'm better, I'm better, and then we go around again. Chocolate spinach, soy milk pudding, pepsi - vomit - then turn again. I hugged too many things at once, and then interrupting my work with a lot of vomiting. I vomit at least five times a day, my depression feeds the cravings, and the cravings spice up the depression to keep going. I was okay until one day when I was completely lost, I was sleeping with a stomach ache at five in the morning. My first thought was to be hungry, because I was so used to the hunger cramps of my body that I hugged to sleep. But then, the pain started to spread to my whole body, my heart was beating fast like a jog, my feet were sweaty cold. I woke up My Lover, and he guided me down the street to find a taxi to go to the clinic.
Within a few minutes, I fell to my knees, and my mouth fell open with strange voices, my screams, so loud that surprise drowned out the pain for a few seconds. I rolled around on the floor of the old dormitory, and Lover let go of me and headed for a taxi ride away.
Amid my screams, I heard the plea of My Lover:
- Please, uncle, she hurts so much, she needs to go to the emergency room right now.
- Call the ambulance, I'm running out of time for work, I have to change shifts, or you call another taxi.
Singapore, a hot year-round country, is cold year round. Just like that, two or three taxi drivers all refused, on the grounds of the opposite direction, in the morning, the hospital was the opposite of our house; even though I was curled up there, and Darling's voice cracked every minute.
At that time, parents went to work, held their children's hands to school, their steps were just a few inches from me, they walked past casually that I felt the floor vibrate under my stomach. No one rolled their eyes, no one paused for a second, let alone help.
Later, when I returned from the hospital, I found out that my neighbors did not roll their eyes but called the police because I was causing an inconvenience.
This story was told by me every time someone asked me why I left Singapore - a place so good for business development, and chose to return to Vietnam. I simply couldn't live in such a dead place. And that day when I went to the hospital, I was lost from the pain, I almost knew nothing. Yet all day, the doctors did all the tests they could do on me, but found nothing wrong. Without any reason for the pain to come, the doctor thought I was fooling the doctor, and I think the doctor was fooling me, they concluded I was likely to have psychological problems, concluded and put me in the camp myself. mentally.
The second time I entered the camp was different than the first, I was forced to take heavy tranquilizers, so it only counted half. Lying in bed all day, who's mentally somewhere else. Because of this good attitude evaluation, and also voluntary hospitalization, I was released within three days. It's ridiculous, so pale. I was the loudspeaker talking to the fullest extent when the volume button was turned down, the radio was still on but no one knew, but as long as the people around didn't complain, everything would be fine. Actually the second time I was hospitalized, I had nothing to tell, not because nothing happened, but it was nothing to me anymore.
YOU ARE READING
Lỗi - Error 404 English Translation
Literatura Faktu"Finally, my autobiography book, Error 404 is out, after 2 years of work. It actually took me only 6 months to write 99% of the book, but couldn't write the ending for a long, long time. I wrote a book about a child who was sexually abused, unhappy...
