Ever since my husband was diagnosed with mental illness two years ago, I've been worried that something is still happening. It's just that I never expected it to come so soon. My 11-year-old daughter suddenly told me one day that she had been trying to jump off a building for no reason for some reason, and she was afraid that one day she would really not be able to control it and would jump from the classroom corridor on the fifth floor of the school. She said she felt she should have depression.
After that, I went to the psychiatric hospital again, and the outpatient doctor preliminarily diagnosed my daughter with "Childhood Behavioral Mood Disorder". Due to the need to adjust and test the medicine, I accompanied my daughter to the open ward of the inpatient department of the psychiatric hospital. It is no different from the inpatient department of a general hospital. Most of the people living in this department are teenagers. Some are accompanied by family members, and some live in them themselves. During the day, they are sunny and beautiful, and they can't see any difference from ordinary children. At night, those who cut their wrists, those who hit the wall, and those who cried wept. In severe cases, the doctor will tie his limbs to the bed. The causes of their illness are different, some are because the children are left behind for a long time without the company of their parents, and some are because of the psychological damage caused by parental quarrels or even divorce. Some are because of long-term school violence; Some of them did not have a complete childhood because of the pressure of studying, various training classes and various make-up classes from childhood. Among him (her), there are many top students in key middle schools, and if it weren't for the onset of illness, it would be a matter of minutes to be admitted to a key university. And my daughter said that she was the result of school violence. What I understand is that she was isolated by her classmates at school mainly due to her own personality problems, low emotional intelligence, sensitivity and suspicion, and short temper. Although my daughter's symptoms are not as severe as most of the children here, she reacted too much to the drug test, and she was very manic and painful, and she was yelling and rolling on the bed like a cat. Doctors also had no effect on sedatives. As a mother, I accompanied her by the bed as if I had been cut by a thousand knives, crying in pain and not knowing why. At the beginning, my daughter was like a "guinea pig" constantly trying various medicines and adjusting them.
For her, I am willing to be a housewife for more than ten years, because I know that she is different from ordinary children. I went through the primary school textbooks for her, because I knew that she was slower than the rest of her classmates in all subjects. For her sake, I insisted on using my stiff and rough hands to do housework, and accompanied her to practice on the piano, because I knew that she had been inferior and sensitive since she was a child, and had no friends; I hope that the piano can give her confidence, be there for her when she is lonely, bring her joy, and at the same time cultivate her concentration. I didn't expect that I would go all out in exchange for today's ending.