'I wished she was dead': Living with my daughter's bipolar meltdowns
The New Paper
By Maureen Koh
Torture to continue living
Like in one instance, when she was waiting at a zebra crossing on her way to a job interview.
"A car stopped. One minute I was walking across and the next, I had walked over to the car and drawn long lines across one of the doors with my house keys," she reveals.
"Another time, I was just chatting with my new colleague during lunch, talking about some movie, and I ended up crying and laughing at the same time.
"It became a torture to even want to continue living."
When she was finally diagnosed and sent to IMH for two months, there were times when she "really hated Ah Ma", Wendy admits.
"I didn't understand why she gave up on me," she says.
"It was only much later that I learnt I had to forgive myself first before I could forgive Ah Ma or even that one friend who abandoned me in my times of need."
Now, Wendy hopes to find a job, one that can also allow her to be upfront about her condition.
"I really wouldn't ruin that chance, if I am given one. But it'd be good if my boss knows that anything can happen and is willing to give (me a) chance when it does."
Madam Cheong says she is comforted by her daughter's attempts to get on the road to recovery.
"I know that it's not easy for Lui Lui and I also know she is trying very hard," she says.
Madam Cheong, who earns about $1,000 a month, adds: "It's not how much Lui Lui's job can pay her, but the sense of responsibility and trust that she would get can help her to regain some confidence."
Ask her if this is her biggest wish, she says: "No. My biggest wish is that my daughter dies before me.
"Otherwise, there will be no one to take care of her."
This article was first published in The New Paper.