I can’t recall if today was the first time I spoke to a rape victim, but today, I had a chat with a rape victim, a girl no older than me, who over the years of being forced to marry her perpetrator, living in an abusive marriage and forced to raise 2 children. It’s times like these which just hits hard on your face of the harsh reality that’s in the world today, not merely a depiction of some famous celebrity acting out a miserable character in those movies talking about abuse. It’s real. In front of me, sat a girl who endured those years with that man, who lived every second of her life in fear – afraid that she could lose her life anytime. Her life has changed since that day. She no longer see men as they are, and on top of trying to cope with her pain and suffering, she has become a mother. She had other lives to protect, to shelter, to care for.
I started my psychiatric posting this week. I have to admit, it was difficult. I stepped into the wards rather apprehensive… I had that imagery in mind of people who are psychologically unstable walking aimlessly around in the wards, with who-knows-what running through their thoughts, and the capability of suddenly bursting into violence and injuring the people around (e.g. medical students). Well, I wasn’t completely off in my prediction. The people did look queer, they did act strange, with weird thoughts, personalities and mannerisms. I’m yet to see one who would explode into violence (I pray I do not have to in the course of my posting). 🙂
But then, as I continued to observe and gave it some thought. Y’know they’re no different from you and me. They’re somebody’s mother, somebody’s father, somebody’s daughter or son. They had a life, they had a job, they still lived. They’re human beings too – not some evolved creatures whose personality changed into something we didn’t like, therefore we have to keep them behind locked doors. Most of all, they were also God’s loved people. Wow. It strucked me. God loves them too – no matter how ‘crazy’ they are. It was a difficult fact to swallow, in fact, I’m still trying to swallow it..
But if you really think about it. Who defines what’s normal? Who defines that our characters, your thoughts, my insights are normal? In fact, you could even come to realize that all of us have a psychiatric problem to some small degree or another.
I anticipate many interesting days ahead..