Last year, I went kind of crazy. I went on holiday to my "homeland" of the Philippines and for the most part, it was lovely.
Now, I don't like most Filipino food since I'm an extremely picky eater. On the mainland, you're in reach of supermarkets
Unfortunately, my dad comes from a remote island 30 minutes across the sea from anything, and another 3 hours away
We stayed there for a week. I didn't eat much, though I was rather lucky there was a restaurant down the road my dad ordered from to keep me going. I came to this stage where I didn't feel like eating, it just seemed pointless. (I'm still like that now but better, since I have access to food I enjoy and like.) I drank nothing but Coca-Cola and ate next to nothing.
On the Saturday night, three days before we left, I started vomiting violently. At first I thought, hey, it's no issue. But then every 10 minutes I'd suddenly get that horrible squeezing in my stomach and I'd vomit again.
This continued for an hour. Eventually, I was escorted to the hospital on their "ambulance" (motorbike).
I was checked into a room and put on an IV drip with no wheels. I was given a bedroom which had no source of entertainment except picking at the peeling walls and listening to the rubbish TV the nurses were watching, and I couldn't eat anything without throwing up. The bathroom was the worst thing I have ever seen. I'm not going to describe it but it was horrible.
At that moment, I have never ever wanted to die more.
Fortunately, after a day and a half, I was released with a diagnosis of hyper acidity. I took pills for the next 2 months and my stomach was rotted so badly I couldn't walk, so I had to be in a wheelchair. The pain was unbearable, I lost 20% of my body weight and I was almost suicidal at that point because I just wanted to be myself again.