Onika L. Dainty

Three years ago I experienced the very real and painful process of changing the direction of my life’s journey. I had been dealing with mental illness for many years and feeling stuck in it. I believed to that point I was doing everything I could to manage my illness, I was taking my medication, I participated in higher education in order to re-invent myself, I started and ended several careers, I filled my timetable with therapy and support groups, I became a mental health advocate speaking publicly about my experiences with Bipolar disorder, I started a podcast and I worked in mental health as a Peer Support Specialist. But the hidden reality of my life was that I was also addicted to marijuana, I suffered from severe anxiety that kept me up most nights and even with all I had accomplished over the years I was not truly taking care of my mental or physical health.  

I was like a pressure cooker ready to explode until one day I finally did. In the winter of 2022, I attempted to end my life in what would have been a spectacularly painful way. I will not go into details about the attempt but I will say it was the catalyst to change in my life. By the following year I was homeless and living in a women’s shelter. During my stay there my body exploded into so much physical pain I had to stretch multiple times daily just to climb up and down the stairs of the shelter and to get up and down the ladder of the top bunk of the bed I was assigned. Walking was painful, sleeping was uncomfortable and my appetite was non-existent. I continued to use, convincing myself that marijuana was giving me the only release I received in a day.  

When I was housed in the spring of that year another vicious cycle began– the cycle of hospitalization. I was admitted to two psychiatric wards eight times within a year where I was kept isolated and heavily medicated due to extreme psychosis. I experienced delusions and visual and auditory hallucinations that were treated with various medications but nothing seemed to help my broken mind and my hopeless spirit. During my last hospitalization in the Psychiatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU), I was transferred to a mental health hospital to receive more acute and critical observation and care. It was in this medical facility that I realized the pain of remaining the same was greater than the pain of change. 

Though the beginning of my sobriety journey was forced by my confinement, once again the pain I experienced dealing with withdrawal symptoms was not as great as the self-medicating addiction I had struggled with for over 15 years. The pain and uncertainty of when the next manic episode would appear became less and less as four months of residency in hospital became the time I needed to learn to manage my illness. Change was occurring daily within the walls of that psychiatric hospital, teaching me that though it can be painful change was necessary for personal growth. Remaining trapped in an endless cycle of chaos and pretending that I was making movements towards being better, I realize now was far more painful than actually working proactively toward making real and lasting change.  

Today, I am almost a year and a half sober, I have a beautiful home, I have stability in my mental health, I practice daily self-care, I have family and friends that support me and are proud of the progress I’ve made and I have a better understanding of the meaning and importance of embracing change. Change began with the pain of knowing and understanding that my life would remain paused unless I acknowledged the truth of my situation, the truth that was buried inside my deteriorating mind, body and soul. My physical, mental and emotional pain derived from inaction, fear and self-loathing so in order to move forward, to embrace change I had to address the most ugly parts of myself or I would remain stuck and as painful as that process was, as painful as the transition from immobility to change was I am now in a better and more peaceful place.

Now  I feel change is necessary for me to continue the forward movement into a brighter and healthy future. I embrace the process knowing it may be uncomfortable but the discomfort of remaining the same is no longer an option for me. Thank you Mr. Robbins, you taught me that “I will remain the same until the pain of remaining the same is greater than the pain of change.”

Life Lesson #4

Seventy-one and a half miles. 

190,725 steps. 

18 days.

When I think about where and when I first heard this quote I draw a blank. It’s as if I was born with this philosophy in my bones and in my heart so the first time it appeared before me I already knew it. It's the story of my life, reminding me that no matter what my goals are, what challenges I face, what adversity I need to overcome to reach my final destination I must take the most important first step without fear of the outcome or even knowing where the journey will take me. Even when the walk feels impossible and never-ending, every journey is an adventure with no guarantees that it will help you or hurt your current circumstance. By taking the first step the only certainty is that you will have to continue to walk down an unknown path to gain knowledge and understanding of your purpose, to learn the lessons that every journey teaches you. 

I remember the fear I felt at 5 years old taking that first step onto an airplane at the Cheddi Jagan International Airport in my home Guyana where my mother and I would fly to Canada, to our new lives and it feels like I’ve been taking first steps ever since. 

The first step into a Canadian elementary school where I would experience racism and bullying. 

The first step into my new house in Pickering, ON where I felt love and happiness, where I wrote my first award-winning poem, where my family was whole. 

My first step into the hallways of my high school where I experienced gender-based violence, fear and constant anxiety. 

The first step onto my university campus where I found escape from my past, where I smoked my first joint while experiencing extreme depression, where I graduated with my first Honours degree in History

My first step inside the observation room of a Psychiatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) where I would be diagnosed with Bipolar I disorder  and the course of my life would be forever changed.

When I was discharged from my first psychiatric hold I had no idea that on my journey to wellness I would have copious admissions, struggle with substance use issues, go to rehab, have a dual-diagnosis, have a co-occurring disorder, be non-compliant with my medication, be restrained to multiple hospital beds, be fired from numerous jobs, lose friendships, lose family, face my trauma, face the death of loved ones, experience homelessness, successfully complete two other higher-education credentials, become a national ambassador for mental health, start a podcast, be an advocate and public speaker for mental illness, write a book, re-write a book start a blog, be reunited with my family, enjoy cooking, live in a beautiful house or end-up going to the gym everyday.   

Seventy-one and a half miles. 

190,725 steps. 

18 days.

The above stats are the amount of miles I’ve walked on the treadmill and the amount of steps I’ve taken in the 18 days I’ve been going to the gym. It might not seem relevant in the face of everything else I’ve said but for me it represents what Lao Tzu is trying to say. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. It's about making a decision to change your circumstances, to be resilient in the face of adversity, being fearless and doing something you’ve never done before in an attempt to change the direction of your life. I have had a lot of tragedy on my journey but I’ve had a lot of triumphs as well. I choose to learn from the tragedy and celebrate the triumphs by filling my journey with things, people and experiences that bring me joy. I choose to fearlessly walk my thousand miles in happiness and hope instead of fear and despair. Thank you Lao Tzu for teaching me how important it is to take the first step.