Continuing from where I left off, at the end of February, I didn't even know I had depression; I just thought I was paralyzed.
I am not joking; at that time, my somatic symptoms were very severe. My whole body was weak; I couldn't even twist off a bottle cap. When climbing stairs, the muscles in the front of my thighs would tighten, and I couldn't exert any force. Worse still, I knew something was wrong with me, but I just didn’t want to go out, let alone go to the hospital. I just kept dragging it out.
Until one night around eleven o'clock, I wanted to get up to urinate, but then I found I couldn't move my lower body. No matter how hard I tried, my legs wouldn't respond; my muscles were still stiff. I hit my fists hard and banged desperately, but there was no reaction. Even if I threw myself off the bed, I still couldn't stand up; I couldn't move at all, as if my legs weren't mine, but someone else's that were just being stored here.
At that time, I was really panicking. I thought I had ALS and was paralyzed.
In an instant, all kinds of chaotic thoughts flew through my mind, but not a single one involved me lying in bed while someone else helped me urinate.
I really couldn't accept the idea of living half my life in paralysis. Rather than living like that without any dignity and delaying my wife and children for half a lifetime, testing my family's humanity, I might as well hang myself.
Then that night, I wrote my suicide note in my memo.
I decided to go to the hospital the next morning. As long as I got a diagnosis, I would take the car in the afternoon to modify it, adapting the accelerator and brake for me as a 'disabled person'.
After settling my wife, children, and elders, I would drive alone to Xinjiang, find a deserted Gobi desert, get drunk on the roof of my car, listen to the awful songs in the car, gaze at the stars all night, and when dawn approached, I would stab my heart with a knife.
Then the next day I was diagnosed with depression, anxiety, and hyperthyroidism.
I was scared half to death!
Now looking back, I realize why I got these diseases; it was simply because I was recklessly living dangerously during that time.
First, there were sleepless nights, worrying that the market would no longer exist. Given the poor economic environment this year, where would I go? Then I thought about contrarian operations; if I really lost all my money, what would I do? What would my wife and children do? I hadn’t worked for over ten years; apart from trading and speculating in cryptocurrencies, I didn’t know anything else. Should I support them with chicken feathers?
The more I thought about it, the more anxious I became; the more anxious I was, the more I couldn't help but think. Coupled with the mental disorientation caused by insomnia, I refused to admit the normal withdrawal losses. In this state, going back to trading, it would be a miracle if I didn't lose money.
Once I incurred losses on my trades, I became even more agitated. To relieve stress and adjust my state, I desperately masturbated, smoked, and drank. I was in my thirties, staying up all night, smoking two packs a day, masturbating three to four times, and during the day, I would hide from the sunlight like a vampire, sitting in front of the computer. I didn't even dare to open the curtains and would sit there all day. I was really destroying myself!