Onika L. Dainty

Last Dance with Mary Jane - Onika L. Dainty | Life Lessons Series

Life Lesson Series: Lesson #10

We danced all night

So close I kissed you.

We spent years together

And now I miss you.

Mary Jane you broke my spirit

Time and time again.

I have come to the conclusion that

You were never my friend.

With a toke then a smoke

My mind was cleared.

With a toke and a smoke

I lost all that was dear.

You are a destructive force

I can dance with no more.

The bodies you killed

Are buried under the floor boards.

We laughed and we cried

You were my salvation.

Until I cried and I screamed

Over my ruination.

I must say goodbye to you

My destructive friend.

I must say goodbye before

My beautiful life ends.

I am on the verge of greatness

And you are holding me back.

I am in a war with myself

I am under attack.

If I let you back in 

That will be my end.

I will toke and then smoke

And think you’re my friend.

I will laugh in numbness

Afraid to face the truth.

That you are a monster

Uncivilized and uncouth.

So goodbye Mary Jane

Our time is at an end.

I realized too late

You were never my friend.

Onika L. Dainty (circa 2016)

My relationship with marijuana, Mary Jane, began in university shortly after my grandmother Alvira died on my 22nd birthday. I was depressed, angry, stressed, and lacking sleep. My mind was racing with memories of Alvira and thoughts of worthlessness and fear that I was going to flunk out of my fourth year. My first dance with Mary Jane was not at a wild college party, it was not a curious experiment with friends, rather it happened one night after I had gone a week without sleep or food, filled with anxiety and hopelessness. On the recommendation of my then partner who was a daily user, I got my first education on marijana and its effects. He said I would feel a numb sensation, followed by possible laughter, extreme hunger and finally an overwhelming tiredness. He said it would clear my head and slow things down. He joked that I would feel like all seven dwarfs from Snow White and it would help whatever I was going through, help in a way he felt he couldn’t. 

My first dance with Mary Jane was as he promised, happy, dopey, hungry, sleepy, high. Not all of the seven dwarfs but close. After the first time, there was a second and a third until finally I lost count and 20 years later Mary Jane was the only thing on my mind, the only one I wanted to dance with. Mary Jane became my most destructive friend bringing other destructive people, places and experiences into my life. Mary Jane became the medicine I would rather take than the mood stabilizers or anti-psychotics that my psychiatrists recommended to manage my Bipolar disorder. I believed the daily dance was what kept me balanced, kept me going and kept me sane. I believed that every time I toked and smoked Mary Jane healed me from my trauma because the memories faded away and I felt nothing. 

In our dance I led and Mary Jane followed, until one day when the music stopped and it became clear that Mary Jane was running the show and if I didn’t walk away I would lose everything. 

I wrote that piece in 2016 when I was certain I had had enough of my destructive dance partner. But life had different plans and I had to face many more challenges so I turned to marijuana to slow the thoughts that raced through my anxious mind and to avoid the reality of my circumstances. I was lost, had no sense of self-worth or acceptance and my unaddressed trauma that I had buried deep in my psyche was making its way to the surface daring me to confront it, daring me to heal, daring me to change. For 20 years all I knew was my best friend Mary Jane, who would I be without our daily dance?

On December 15, 2023 I had my last dance with Mary Jane. I had a year filled with chaos: I was estranged from my family, I had experienced homelessness and assault, I had been hospitalized eight times for marijana fueled drug-induced manic-psychosis and  was in the midst of a ninth episode that would last 2 months before I was transferred to a long-term mental health care centre where I would spend 4 months working with an addictions counsellor, trauma based psychotherapy and medication management with a psychiatrist. I would also practice daily activities centered around recovery and self-care. Mary Jane wasn’t allowed in these spaces and I finally had a chance to regain the mental, physical and emotional balance I had lost so many years ago.

Dear Mary Jane,

It's been 1 year, 4 months and 18 days since we last danced and even though I tried  to say goodbye to you almost 10 years ago you still had a hold on me. I wasn’t ready to let you go but I’m ready now. I’ve learned some valuable lessons about life and myself in that time. Firstly, you were never the solution to my trauma or the cure for my Bipolar disorder. Second, healing is an inside job and I cannot blame substances or other people for not doing the work necessary to grow and recover. Finally, I was never chasing the high, I was running from myself and when the music stopped and I found myself alone, standing in the center of the chaos and destruction my life had become, I knew I couldn’t dance with you anymore. It was time to find myself, find my rhythm and live for my future. “So goodbye Mary Jane our time is at an end, I always knew in my heart, you were never my friend.”

Truly,

Onika L. Dainty