I was born and I grew up in Toronto. When I was born, I weighed 3 pounds and 4 ounces I had a critical medical condition. My mother wanted to call me Michelle, but the nurses did not stop singing the song "Wake Up Little Suzie", which means "Wake up, little Suzie", then I'm Suzanne Michelle.When I was about 15, I started receiving orders Tylenol # 3 against the pain. Quickly, it has not been enough and I started taking Tylenol # 4 and Percocet.
As I got older, things got worse. I suffered two car accidents and I received the diagnosis of many chronic diseases, such as lumbar disc herniation, arthritis, rheumatism, mild scoliosis, fibromyalgia, and Raynaud's disease ( my ex-husband kept telling me that if I were a horse, he would have shot me!).
After many years in chronic pain and receive different diagnoses, was prescribed stamps Fentynol and Oxycontin. Stamp Fentynol is as powerful as an injectable drug, but without needles.
Looking back, I remember how it felt good at the start. No pain!
The drugs even gave me a gentle, soothing sensation, like that of a "hug". I was good. I wanted more.
It has become not only a medicine against the pain, but it was part of me.
I do not doubt myself as I headed straight for death.
Drugs have been in effect for some time, but soon I started to feel like I felt before taking any medicine.
If I tried to reduce the dose, or even stopping, I was sick. Physically ill. It was like having the worst flu you can imagine. And the pain was worse than before.
Be physically ill, it was the least of my worries. Although I felt good at the start, drugs have gradually started playing tricks on me. They told me that I needed them. Without them, I was nothing. I suffered martyrdom when I tried to stop taking them. They came over me all the time.
When I recovered myself, I understand the effect that drugs had on me. They stole my smile, my laughter, my self-esteem, my courage to live. Because of them, I lived most of my life. I did not know what was good or bad.
The drugs stole my ability to feel empathy and compassion, even to myself. They stole my dignity, my spontaneity. Worse, they came to me like a thief in the night and stole my soul.
35 years of hell, I'd had enough. I felt the life go out in me, in my body, my mind and my soul.
For years, my family tried to wean me opiates. Each time, it was too much suffering. My father wrote a letter to my doctor threats. My mother did not have the strength to talk to me, so she suffered to see me so ill. They loved me so much, they could not bear it. They began to cut ties between us.
This is where I really looked in the face. I do not know if I could live without drugs. But I knew that with them, I will not live long. Did I could endure all this pain?
I called the closer the crisis line from my home and I told them I wanted to sleep and never wake up. In less than 30 minutes, two people came to meet me. I have chosen to contact Narcotics Anonymous, with whom I am in regular contact today.
When I decided to get to me CAMH and receiving treatment, I was asked if I wanted a "worker welfare." I accepted all the help they had to offer me, and that was one of the best decisions I've made in my life.
This worker was part of Catholic Family Services. The counselors helped me to save my life. They helped me, and that's saying something, to HAVE a life. They believed in me and my chances to get out. They helped me to regain my self-esteem by emphasizing my every success. They spoke of other programs to CFS, such as wellness programs for women, groups for the support of victims of trauma, and the "Connections" program for men and women, all offered by 'through the CFS Peel-Dufferin. These programs have played a very important role in my recovery.Thank you.