I have been trying to understand how my psychosis happened.
How did I get myself this mental health problem that I will now suffer for the rest of my life?
There is always a beginning. A time when everything began. I look back and try to spot the event that sparked this illness. The moment that “lies” the start of a crazy life.
It was a normal invitation to a church camp. A Protestant church camp actually. Pek invited me to join the camp that would take place for 4 days and 3 nights in Genting Highlands. I was really eager to go when invited. Camps are always fun.
We arrived at a service apartment with a hall big enough to fit probably a thousand of people. The camp was filled with talks. Talks are always great, till you start to hear the speakers bashing up every other religion like Buddhism and Hinduism. It was tolerable at first. But soon, I realized this was a Christian conversion camp if I might put it. I am Catholic and I too was feeling the heat. People will start telling me that I am in the wrong church. That I should study the bible more thoroughly to know the truth. I think it was the 2nd day. I couldn’t go to any more talks. I didn’t even go for meals anymore. I’d stay in my room praying that God would make these people at the camp realize that what they are doing is wrong. Making other religions look bad to convert people to Christianity is wrong!!
I prayed hard. I prayed that something will happen during the camp to open the eyes of the organizers to what they are doing is horrible.
When I got back to school that year in Form 4 at the age of 17, I would hear people in the corridors speaking ill of me. I would hear schoolmates I don’t even recognize say all kind of things that make me look bad. Soon, my parents will be doing the same thing. And all I can say is “Forgive them Father for they do not know what they are doing.” I was hurting in my heart. It was torturing as to what was taking place.
In the middle of the night one day, I was dreaming that I was in a very dark place. The dark place had these cylinders in it which I was curious what they were. Without any sign of warning, I felt my life being sucked out of me like a vacuum cleaner sucking my soul. It was as though the Dementors were around. I thought I was going to die that night, lying on the wooden platform in my dad’s room, thinking that this was it.
I held on as hard as I could.
I didn’t die.
To be continued…