Chapter 16 14. Neurasthenia

I was frail and sickly since I was a child, and I was often sent to the emergency department of the hospital because of fever.Sometimes it was delivered in the middle of the night, and when I heard someone in the waiting room sighing that the child was so pitiful, I actually felt a kind of self-pitying satisfaction in my heart.When I was young, I went to Guangci Hospital the most. There were Soviet experts wearing white hats like priest hats with pointed horns sticking out from both sides. They smiled kindly at me, but I was very afraid of them.I am not afraid of injections, it is a good opportunity to show my bravery.Once when I was drawing blood, the nurse inserted a long needle obliquely into my elbow, four or five times in each elbow, but no blood vessel could be found. My mother hid outside the door in fright, but I never said a word.Throughout my teenage years, my body was always thin and thin. Every time I ran a 100-meter race, I felt dizzy, as if I was going to collapse.For this reason, in high school physical education class, I was included in the health care class, and I often took classes with girls.

My nerves are weaker than my body.When I was in elementary school, I used to have hallucinations when I went to sleep at night.For a while, every night I saw a group of villains in cuckolds, some stepped on the quilt, and some got into the bed. Even if I closed my eyes, I still couldn't get rid of them.A raincoat hanging behind the door turned into a devil with a big head and a yellow body, standing there and staring at me fiercely.In the early stage of junior high school, this situation developed extremely seriously. I really suffered from neurasthenia. I could only sleep for three or four hours a night. As soon as I fell asleep, I would have nightmares.One of the reasons for this was the stimulus of the mother's illness.At that time, she was suffering from severe anemia and would faint suddenly.One night, I heard a heavy impact and found that my mother had passed out, so I stood on the bed and cried.The father was sleeping in the outer room. Hearing the sound, he rushed in and carried his mother to the bed.In order to take care of his mother, he and I changed beds.I lay in the outer room, with horrible images in front of my eyes, trembling unceasingly until dawn.The next day my mother told me that when she woke up, she didn't know that she had just fainted, and seeing me standing on the bed crying, she thought I had lost my mind again.

When I was in college, someone summed me up in three words: sensitive, vulnerable, and noble.At least when I was in junior high school, my sensitivity and fragility were already obvious, and Qing Gao only became apparent when I was in high school.I am nervous and suspicious, prone to fantasies.When I was about eleven years old, I was playing with a tightrope and I pulled a hole in my finger and blood came out.When I saw the blood plasma, I imagined that I was going to die. As I thought about it, my eyes turned black and I passed out.My father sent me to the hospital, and the doctor said lightly: nervousness.At about the same time, one day, my parents went out and did not come home until dark.My morbid imagination was now active, and I imagined all kinds of terrible scenarios, in short, they must have met with misfortune, and I would never see them again.I burst into tears, and pulled my sister to ask her to take me to my parents, but my sister had no choice but to cry with me.Just as we were crying together, my father and mother came back. It turned out that they were just visiting the uncle's house.Until now, I still have this kind of neurotic paranoia. I don't care about other things, but when it comes to health and safety, including my own and relatives and friends, I tend to think of the worst when encountering situations and scare myself.

In fact, I also realized that I was too weak and wanted to change.When I was in junior high school, I had a small notebook, which was dedicated to remembering various methods of exercising myself.I remember that one of them is that it is stipulated that hands are not allowed to be put in pockets when outdoors in winter, so as to hone the will.I really did this, no matter how bitter the cold wind was, I didn't put my hands in my pockets, and I was very proud of it.A little girl in the yard accidentally found out about my rule, and she looked confused. After hearing my explanation, she immediately put on an expression of admiration.

In those days, my biggest worry was my mother's body.When she was cooking and stir-frying in front of the stove, I often stood beside her, looking up at her face with sympathy.I hope she knows her son's heart and takes comfort from it.Seeing this situation, Mrs. Qu said more than once that I was a dutiful son.My mother also has a clear preference for me. She likes to take me to the streets. Every time she buys me some snacks, she tells me not to tell my siblings.However, when I was a little older, I developed vanity and didn't want to go to the streets with my mother. For this, she sadly accused me of despising her.Mother's body has never been strong, but she has become tougher when she gets old. She is 87 years old this year, her back is still straight, and her hair is basically black.She lives with her younger sister every day, and the younger sister said with emotion that it is rare for a person of such an age not to worry about his children at all.She has always liked to read stories of joys and sorrows, no matter on TV or in magazines, she always reads them with gusto.However, I heard that she suddenly read my book recently. I think she must want to know what kind of boring things my son has written all day long.

In retrospect, there was a nasty side to my teenage personality.Among the children in the family, I have always been in the most favored position, which made me form a narrow sense of superiority, domineering, self-centered, and can't bear a little grievance.Once, my sister and I quarreled and kicked her. She covered her waist and cried, and my mother scolded me.I was so sad and felt that my mother had failed my filial piety, so I lay on the ground crying and kicking around, grabbed my favorite deck of playing cards and tore them to pieces.No one paid me any attention.I went to the mirror, saw my tearful countenance, felt more self-pity, and set off a new climax of howling.Still no one pays any attention to me.Feeling bored, I stopped crying and went downstairs.It was raining heavily outside the door, I stared at the rain in a daze, imagining myself running away in the rain, my parents searched everywhere but couldn't find me, thought I had committed suicide, and felt too regretful.Ah, it would be better if I actually die once, and my soul can leave the body and hide aside, peek at their remorse and sorrow, and then the soul returns to the body, and I come alive.However, I know that people cannot be resurrected after death, and I don't want to die, and I don't even want to be exposed to the rain, so after being dazed for a while, I obediently went back upstairs.At other times, however, I often succeeded in meeting grown-up anger by going out, and whiled away half the day in the streets.This move was very effective, and when he returned home, the adult's anger had subsided, and he was more gentle than usual.