Yesterday (22/02/2023), I celebrated my 6th month of sobriety. To many, it didn’t seem a big deal but to me, it meant the world. The significance was much more than the sobriety to me, it is the strength I have exhibited. I went back, reflected and reminisced on my life, my journey and my choices. Oh yes, I have made so many mistakes in my life, and I totally take responsibility for my choices, albeit bad or good. However, becoming an addict unknowingly at 22 wasn’t what I signed up for. All I wanted at the time, was a moment of reprieve from pain. I had been through and seen a lot and the worst of it, in very little time, so I just wanted it all to stop, for a minute, just a break maybe?…
I had spent so much time at the hospital and this injection was administered on me over and over and over again. Every time I was discharged, I got the injection before leaving the hospital. And then, I was expected to use tablets that no longer had any effect on my excruciating pain? The pain of both my hips collapsing daily is by far still the worst I have ever had but the pain I felt in my heart after that ordeal, ended up being worse. I genuinely thought it was over for me in 2009/2010, even though I maintained a strong front for the family. I felt betrayed, I felt abandoned, I blamed myself for not being strong enough, I blamed God for not keeping HIS promises to me. I was only 21 with a frightening fear that I was living my final year on earth, had two major surgeries while opting to stay awake on both occasions, and then had complications with the second one, stayed in an hospital bed for about 2 months while recuperating, did physiotherapy through the pain, and had to learn how to walk all over again like a baby. I went for my youth service after the first surgery but before the second, meaning I was in a lot of pain and had to use crutches for most of my service year. Funny as it sounds, all through this journey, I never took injection by myself. I wore my pain like a badge of honour and felt it deep in my bones. Till this day, if anyone asks me why I stayed awake during major surgeries that I was warned about because listening to the drills and feeling the cuts and seeing the blood could lead me to a cardiac arrest. I would always give the same response as I did to my doctors then- that I didn’t want to mistakenly find solace in the darkness and slip away nor did I want to wake up and realise that the thought of being pain free was just a dream. My second surgery was harder than the first and we ended up spending more than 4 hours on a surgery that took only 2 hours during the first one I did 3 months prior. Like every scared girl, I panicked during the surgery after 3 hours, because I thought something was terribly wrong, making my BP rise. They almost knocked me out for fear of my life, so I began to talk to them about my sister. I was so tired though, and I made a plea to God to make the suffering stop!
Now I look back and wonder why I decided to find solace in pain relieving injections after I had gotten both surgeries done rather than before, and it still comes down to the same thing- PAIN. The complications I had, took me back to the theatre and I was so disappointed that my wellness had to come with a catch, that I simply zoned out psychologically. I had prayed to never go through such again but I had to be taken into the theatre barely two weeks later. I had accepted my fate and was ready for death whenever it came knocking
I used to be a young girl with great plans. I thought I had the world at my feet, I felt like I could do anything I put my mind to, and then it all crashed when life happened making a heavy dose of realisation hit. I was unable to go for my master’s, was forced to work for my father (even though I ended up doing it well), was not allowed to pursue any of my numerous dreams, and my life seemed to only be ridden in pain… And now I ask myself, why I turned to using injections. I was frustrated from the very start. Maybe hiding my frustrations made me avoid depression for as long as I possibly could, but I couldn’t run away from it forever. I saw my life as a pathetic excuse, I wallowed myself deep in self-pity, I forgot about the great times & privileges life had given me and allowed two seasons of constant tribulations to shape my life.
I admit that the first time I ever used it by myself was because I was having crisis pains. Okay, maybe the second and third times too but I now understand that the only reason I had so much pain in the first place was because my heart was aching. I had nobody to talk to and I didn’t want to sulk. My sister is the only one that had a little idea of my genuine emotions but even she was left out of many because I couldn’t bear to make her worry AGAIN! I recall my anaesthetist during my first surgery, Mr Ou Falayi, spoke to me after the surgery. He said he was genuinely shocked at the thought of someone so happy and always smiling even though I was in too much pain. “How can you be so bubbly and happy about all these, have you even considered the psychological implications of everything?” I never answered the question but told him my smile was all I had and that I refused to loose it. We spoke a lot after that and he managed to distract me quite often. He also made me avoid conversation about sickle cell anaemia and the upcoming 2nd surgery, but everything stopped suddenly, only for me to hear a few months later that he had died. Till today, I wish I had entertained the discussion, maybe he knew something I didn’t…
My head told me over and over and over again that I was in pain only because my heart was deeply troubled, making my stress levels high. I didn’t know how to cope with the several stress triggers I was experiencing, so I did what I did best to cope, I wrote different genres and poured a little bit of my hurts in each, but it was never enough. It was after my 30th birthday that I realised that I needed to get help. That was when I finally forgave myself for something that never in my control, but realising you need help and getting it are two different things. Now the challenge was letting my family know about my dependence on pain relieving injections and then experiencing the same disappointments I did years ago, only it was directed at me this time. Then I tried being strong and stopping by myself, because it’s as easy as that right? Just stop it the way you began it, but no it wasn’t. I almost killed myself in the process, so I continued. At 32 when I decided to take a chance and go to Kaduna for a whole year for Kashim Ibrahim Fellowship, my entire life changed. I was reminded about who I used to be and how much I loved life. I remembered how hard I used to laugh at silly things. I loved everything around me that was natural, things I stopped caring for. I began to remember slowly, how hard I worked and fought for what I wanted.
Today, I realise that I actually stopped enjoying life and simply existed in life. I stopped pursuing my dreams and passions. I stopped feeling true emotions. The minute I picked up that injection 12 years ago, was the day my life paused. I took the step six months ago with only sheer determination and fear to kick-start my life again. It has been extremely difficult and challenging mostly because there is a demon always trying and lurking around my mind, hoping I would fail, BUT my mama never raised a failure so I keep surviving and taking it a day as it comes.
I allowed sickle cell anaemia and the self pity that accompanies it to trap me in an unending cycle of medication abuse and when pentazocine gave me a bit of timeout from the pain, worries, hurts and stress, I took it without thinking twice.
I know many people like me are currently experiencing this? Since my journey, I have found that most sickle cell Warriors self inject/medicate. We want to be stronger, we hide our pains, we want to prove that we aren’t different from others but guess what? We ARE different, because we are stronger than they can ever know, and there is a deep beauty in difference. I implore you to please seek help, it's not your fault. All you did was become a victim of the bad system in this country. I only heard of that injection from a nurse, and I should have been weaned off it before hospital discharge. Having someone to talk to sometimes helps with making such decisions, so feel free to contact me in private. We can find help for you together (WhatsApp 08081201705)
I used to think that I couldn’t live without pain relieving injections but now I know better. Now I know it was simply a way to keep me enslaved because I have lived without it for 6 beautiful months, and I have never felt better! This is how I know you can do it too.
To the closest people that I have hurt greatly through the years, I sincerely apologize and I hope you can all find a way to forgive me someday.
Con Amor
MissEyitayo
