If you tell someone you have a physical ailment, the conversation will most likely include advice on seeing the doctor, home remedies and concrete suggestions. When you switch that ailment to a mental health condition, you’ll trigger various reactions. Tell someone you see a shirnk or psych; it gets even more interesting. However, the truth remians that mental health conditions are just as impactful and diverse as physical conditions.

In 2018, we lost two of my entrepreneur Heros to mental health diseases. The great Anthony Bourdain, who took us to many wonderful places and made us appreciate culture through food. We also lost Kate Spade. I am a sucker for all bags from Kate; 9 out of 10 bags I carry are that brand.  Their deaths were a serious blow.  Mental diseases are equally as critical and vary in severity like their physical counterparts. Mental diseases do not discriminate. I have suffered different variations of mental illness. This piece chronicles my journey and how I coped and continue to find healing.

The Weight of Mental Healing

Feeling sad is part of life. Life-changing events trigger moments of feeling blue. The issue is when sadness starts to degenerate into hopelessness. Once hopelessness leads to not wanting to live and enjoy life, we have a problem.  Mental health conversations have been taboo in Nigeria for so long. No one talked about it. We ‘suffer and smile’ like the late legend Fela Kuti once observed.

We use religion to mask our issues. If I tell anyone living in Nigeria that I am suffering from depression, the response will most likely be “What is making you depressed? God has been good to you. Encourage yourself in the Lord, it is well.”  The last time I checked, a good chunk of the Psalms of Kind David showed someone in anguish of soul.

Having Triggers and Trauma

My first battle with a mental health disease was in 1999. I was at home for the Christmas of 1998, and a gang of thieves attacked us, and I was raped by 5 of them. It was a traumatic experience.  No one could take me to the doctor after the incident so I walked 3 miles to our family doctor to inform him of the situation.  My parents were also traumatized because they could have been killed. 

As the good firstborn, I tried to be strong for them. All I wanted to do was leave the country and head back to my high school in Norway. I bottled the pain and the trauma, affecting my academics, self-esteem, and everything.  Sometimes, I would be in class, and my mind would wander away, replaying past traumatic experiences. This was not my first time violated, but the straw broke the camel’s back. I guess you can call this PTSD.

Motherhood

Fast forward to 2005. It is the second trimester of my pregnancy with my daughter. Deep down I wanted the nurse to tell me it was a boy because I was afraid.  Since my parents could not protect me from sexual predators, I felt ill-equipped to raise or protect a daughter. God decided to play tricks with my mind and He gave me Tami: ever sweet, trusting, ever smiling, never seeing faults in folks, never suspicious, all you can ask.

I was given a former version of myself before the violation, and I did not know how to handle it. Sometimes, I quarreled with my daughter and I had no love to give her the first 8 years of her life. It was cat and mouse because I did not know how to handle this sweet girl. Sometimes I would look at her and the events of the past would play repeatedly.

Battling the Seasons

In 2012, a new challenge emerged; the arrival of winter was the onset of extreme fatigue and lack of motivation! All I would want to do is sleep because I had no motivation for anything! There was a time I would not shower for days, I would binge on Netflix shows, food and then go back to sleep. This will be the modus operandi winters of 2012, 2013 and 2014. The lights around me had to be bright for me to do anything. I could not wait for spring season to come. My mood will improve and it will be as though nothing happened. During one of my meetings with my psychiatrist, he named it Seasonal Affective Disorder, aka SAD.

Cancer and Mental Health

Life threw another curveball when my ObGyn informed me of the cancer diagnosis, I was livid! Just after I had received the occupancy permit to start TamBo’s Kitchen!! It seemed like I was taking one step forward and ten steps backward. I would not go down without a fight, so I faced cancer headlong. In my mind, I had planned the treatment plan, the survival plan, and the recovery plan. I would go for my chemo treatment all ‘glammed’ up and ready to power through treatment, but I was wrong!

Father’s Day coincided with the 6^th treatment cycle. I had to run to Stop and Shop to pick a few things. As I got to the cash register, I picked a copy of US Magazine with a picture of Olivia Newton-John. If you don’t know that name, go watch Grease.  She had been diagnosed with Breast Cancer 25 years earlier, and the cancer came back.  I froze for a while and then began to have cold sweats. This cancer MUST not come back, I said.  The treatment was no cakewalk. 

Why Now?

After such treatment how can cancer come roaring back?! My countenance was no longer the same. When my oncologist saw me for the 6^th cycle, she knew I was disturbed. I broke down uncontollably and told her what happened the Sunday before.

I tried to stay positive but it was a struggle from there because I was suffering from anxiety and depression related to treatment. As I went for the the mastectomy thought the recovery would be similar to when I did a C-Section.  Another timeline was thrown out the window. I had to be very careful. My usual outgoing self was locked in the post-op cage. The nail in the coffin came when the Plastic surgeon told me not to lift anything greater than 10 pounds for the rest of my life. This was to prevent lymphedema. Before breast cancer, I could lift 100 pounds of rice and not bat an eye.  The use of my right hand was going to be limited. It was depressing. It was gruesome.

I would cry, question how I got to where I was, and ask, ‘Why me?’

My mind was so broken; all that kept flashing were negative events. The nightmares were a different strain entirely. I struggled to pray. I stopped keeping hope alive. This was my life up until late 2017.

Finding Healing and Hope

How did I come out of my funk? My oncologist saw the need to seek therapy. She asked me to see a psychiatrist. There was a psychiatrist attached to the Weymouth campus of DFCI, I took advantage of this . I remember telling someone close to me that Dr Chi said I needed to see a psychiatrist. You could see the question mark hovering over his head as he did not think I needed it. To him, I looked okay. Why would I need mental health services?  I was DONE  being strong and I needed to take charge of my mental health.

Seeing the psychiatrist has been the best decision I made throughout the recovery process. My doctor listened and assured me that my feelings were similar to other breast cancer patients. He did mention that the aggressiveness of my treatment took a toll on my mental health too. The lack of motivation was called Cancer related Fatigue. 

My doctor recommended that I start the baby dose of Venlafaxine ER, 37.5mg daily.  He asked me to wait for 30 days to see the full effect. It would also help me manage the hot flashes from hormone therapy and It worked!!! Management of my daily activities was now easy. I fell into depression again after my second surgery but I bounced back. While on this treatment plan, I have learned to identify events and activities that trigger depressive episodes. The first and foremost trigger was me dwelling on the cancer and feeling betrayed by my body.

Embracing Recovery

Today, I am learning to let go and doing all I can to stay active and healthy.  I wake up in the morning, practice thankfulness, and dance in God’s presence for another breaking of day. Yes, my body may be weak (it was weak in-utero) but the joy of the Lord will continue to be my strength.  The second trigger was avoiding stressful situations at home. For example, I would fret about all the house chores that needed to be done and about the kids not cleaning their rooms. Those days are over and done! The other trigger was not feeling enough.

My life has gone through some roller coaster rides that cost me some opportunities in the past. I have realized that the past is past, and I can only surge forward with renewed hope and trust that I will continue to triumph in every trial. Lastly I have forgiven my violators. As for the thieves, may they find salvation wherever they are. 

I am still recovering; I pray, read the Word, practice forgiveness, take my medication, live and breathe. I encourage anyone struggling to seek help. Let’s shatter the barriers of stigma and prioritize mental wellness.

I look forward to another day.