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Trigger / Content warning: Rape, sexual assault, sexual violence, self-harm, attempted suicide.
Story by Chun-Hwa
I was 19 years old when my life was destroyed.
Image via Unsplash.
I had gone clubbing in KL for the first time as a university freshie. I remember wearing blue jeans, phone, and wallet in my pockets, a T-shirt, and a hoodie jacket – so, no, I wasn’t ‘asking for it.’
I had only one drink, then I went to the dance floor to dance with my friends.
Suddenly, I felt dizzy. Maybe it was just the club’s atmosphere — the boisterous crowd and pounding music — but I remember going to the toilet, feeling nauseous and lightheaded.
Something was wrong. I only had one drink, but I was already feeling like I was about to fall down.
While I tried to regain my senses, a few men came into the toilet I was in. I was confused, then I realised – I’d entered the men’s by accident.
They seemed friendly at first. They smiled. They touched my hair. When I recoiled back in fear, they pushed me into a cubicle. They started calling me names like “slut” and “whore”.
I don’t know their names. I don’t know what they look like. But I remember that there were at least three of them.
I’m not the slut, whore, bitch, or whatever else they called me. But that night, they did the unspeakable to me in that club toilet.
When I told my mother what happened, she said, “Stop making up stories.”
Image via Unsplash.
I don’t remember how I got back to campus or my room. I do remember waking up in pain.
My panties were full of blood; pain and agony knifed through my lower body like I’d been stabbed repeatedly.
I called my mother for help that morning and told her that I was bleeding from down there after a night out clubbing.
She thought I’d just got drunk and had sex for the first time. Her only helpful advice was, “Go see a doctor.”
So I obeyed and went. It was only when I was on the examination bed in the doctor’s office did the doctor, nurse, and I realise the truth: I had been raped.
The doctor only gave me some painkillers and antibiotics, and I went home. Luckily, I didn’t contract any STDs.
That night, those rapists didn’t just violate me physically. They took my virginity away, and they took away my desire to have children or be a mother.
I didn’t make a police report — why would I, when my own mother didn’t believe me?
And then a few days after I was raped, that’s when I started hearing a little voice in my head.
I started hearing a muted whisper that said: “You are worthless.”
Image via Unsplash.
I started hearing a disembodied voice coming from inside my head. This voice told me: “You’re worthless, you’re a failure. You don’t deserve to live. You should just die.”
I thought it was a real voice. As I listened closer, it kept going, “Make the world a better place. Just use the kitchen knife over there and make it quick.”
When I came to my senses, I found a knife in my hand, pressed against my wrist.
Alarmed, I took myself to PPUM (Pusat Perubatan Universiti Malaysia) to see a therapist. He told me: “You have auditory hallucinations caused by stress. Take this pill every day until the voice goes away.”
Rather than helping me, this visit just made me feel worse. I felt like he just wanted to medicate and get rid of me, without a second thought.
That was 11 years ago. Since then, I’ve gone through five therapists.
Image via Unsplash.
Since that dark night, I’ve been prescribed so many different medications. I’ve tried so many, I know about them all. But none of them have been able to silence the dark voice in my head.
Every day, it’s the first thing I hear in the morning and the last thing I hear at night.
It talks, it mocks, it strips away my confidence. It insults me and erodes my personality, and it keeps telling me to hurt, maim, and kill myself.
It sounds just like my mother when she didn’t believe me that night I was raped.
I’ve been through enough therapy to know that what happened all those years ago wasn’t my fault. The memories of that night itself don’t control me anymore. But no amount of therapy or psychiatric help can drown out the voice at the back of my mind.
One time, I was out having lunch with a group of friends I hadn’t seen in years. At random, I heard that voice whisper, “Look at you, socialising as if you’re a normal person. Don’t kid yourself. You don’t have any real friends. They’re just using you.”
This happened so often when I met people, that I began to isolate myself to shut the voice up.
The voice would criticize every piece of clothing I wore and make me second guess everything I owned. If I deviated from my routine, the voice would give me snide remarks and death threats.
Recently, the voice told me to cut myself again. And I obeyed.
Image via Unsplash.
One night in May, I went home and completely disassociated from reality. Was it something I saw? I don’t know.
All I remember was the voice was so loud, it was screaming and echoing endlessly in my head, saying, “You don’t deserve help! You don’t deserve to get better!”
When I snapped back to reality, I found cuts on my left arm, with a bloodied blade in my right hand.
I called the last person I spoke to on the phone, my closest friend John, who I’ve known for years.
When he arrived at my apartment, he found me ugly crying, rocking on the floor, and curled up into a ball with blood dripping from the cloth I’d wrapped around my arm.
I didn’t want to go anywhere. I just wanted to stay at home, crawl into a hole, and die.
The doctor gave me a heavy sedative called ketamine.
Image by Carmen Jackson.
I don’t remember arriving at the clinic, meeting the doctor, or the IV going in, but I do remember when the ketamine hit me.
There was just this sudden freedom and weightlessness — I saw a gorgeous blue-eyed white tiger circling me protectively as I floated and sat with a massive golden retriever.
For the first time in my life, the voice which had been goading me to end my life, the voice that had tormented me daily, fell silent.
The inside of my head was calm, peaceful tranquility, just pure silence like I’d never known before. I’ve not known this simple quiet in 11 years.
I realized that the tiger had been “destroying” the voice.
Ketamine saved my life by erasing the voice in my head.
Image via Unsplash.
Ketamine is known as a party or rave drug. It gives a dreamy, floaty out-of-body experience where people experience powerful feelings of being “connected” to others. For some, the experience borders on the spiritual.
According to my psychiatrist, ketamine might have started as a rave drug, but clinical studies find it can treat depression and anxiety. As for me, it was a life-saving, life-altering medication.
Now, after the ketamine treatment, I noticed an immediate change in myself. For example, my ability to focus has improved.
I can do mundane and boring things that “normal” people take for granted – my apartment is spotless for the first time since I moved here.
The other day, I actually went grocery shopping, and I didn’t need to write exhaustive shopping lists!
For some chores, it feels like I’m doing them for the very first time. That’s how much of a normal life I’ve missed all those years.
Treatment with ketamine is expensive, costing RM750 a dose
Image via Unsplash.
It’s not a happy ending though. The financial cost to keep my mental health is high. Just one Ketamine dose is RM750.
I’m hoping a one-off dose is enough. I’m scared that when it wears off, that voice might come crashing back like a tsunami and drown me completely.
For now, I’m treasuring every moment of it because I don’t know how long it will last.
Between rent, car payments, and savings, I’ll be living paycheck to paycheck until I find better-paying jobs.
I know I’ve got a “reset” button, but I’d rather not push it again, mostly due to its cost.
Despite that, the calm and tranquility of the ketamine has changed how I look at life. Perhaps there’s light at the end of the tunnel after all.
A note from IRL about this story
Here’s what to do if you or a loved one are struggling with suicidal ideation:
Reach out. Please call the Befrienders hotline at 603-76272929 or email sam@befrienders.org.my. Set aside any fear of judgment and fully share with them about what you are feeling or experiencing.
Take a pause between your thoughts and actions. If you are planning another suicide attempt, pause, promise yourself that you’ll wait at least a week before taking action, and talk to someone you trust to distract yourself.
Don’t turn to illegal substances to cope with your emotions. You may think that taking substances will help numb your pain, but in the long run, they can actually make you feel even worse.
Only take prescribed drugs by a medical practitioner. Only a medical practitioner has the authority to prescribe you a drug with the effects described in this story. Do not attempt to seek drugs in illegal ways as they are not medically pure and may trigger an even worse reaction.
Focus on making your home safer. Keep away harmful items, such as knives or razor blades. If you are taking pills that you might overdose on, give them to someone else for safekeeping.
Get back to a normal routine. Get back in touch with aspects of life that you enjoy. Distract yourself with activities such as reading your favorite book, watching your favorite show, or exercising. Try to eat, sleep, talk to friends, work, and relax according to your normal schedule.
If you would like to know more about how to heal after a suicide attempt, read this detailed and supportive step-by-step guide.
For more stories like this, read:
I Explored Tanjung Rambutan’s Mental Asylum – Here’s What It’s Really Like
I’m A Malaysian Woman Whose Family Abandoned Me Because Of The Voices In My Head
Do you have an interesting story? Email us at hello@inreallife.my.
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