I lay there on the couch, feeling nothing inside. No desire to get up and do anything, no interest in turning on the TV, just...nothing.
I heard someone walk in, but couldn’t be bothered to get up to see who it was. Then I heard a throat clear, and this unwelcome question filled the air:
“Ashley, do you have any plans for today?”
I raised my head off the couch to look at my dad. He waited for my answer. With a deep sigh, I laid my head back down.
“Nope. No plans.”
I felt, rather than saw, his acceptance. He turned and walked out, leaving me to my solitude.
Before I became addicted to opioids, I was very active. I wasn’t a fitness guru by any means, but I was constantly moving, busy living life and enjoying everything it had to offer.
Spending time outside was one of my favorite things to do, whether it was hiking in the mountains, playing tennis with a friend, or enjoying a day on the lake. I was always doing things, continually progressing towards something, no matter if it was big or small.
Sitting around doing nothing wasn’t something I had ever really done, not for more than a quick nap or necessary relaxing. But when opioids entered the picture, everything changed.
Slowly, being physically active no longer held any appeal. Soon, any activity – things like cooking, walking, or driving myself places – were things I no longer wanted to do.
I lost the desire to do anything but sit and stare at the wall, maybe picking up a book or watching a movie at times, but mainly just sitting.
I told myself it was because the pain was too bad. My main focus was making sure I could get through each day and always having enough medication to make that possible.
I didn’t think too much of this. Sure, I wasn’t as active as I used to be and had lost my desire to do things, but when you’re hyper focused on your pain and managing it, that’s what’s forefront in your mind.
I thought my lack of desire was because of the pain I was in. I didn’t realize it was because of the opioids I was so dependent on.
You see, the pain I felt was more mental than it was physical. When the time for my next dose of opioids drew near, I would start feeling “pain.” Desperate to make it go away, I had to start taking opioids more often and at higher amounts.
It wasn’t until some time later when certain events made it clear to me that opioids were causing my problems, not pain from my spinal surgery, that I was able to commit to making necessary changes.
I had always wanted so much more out of life than sitting and staring at the walls, battling to get through each day. I wanted to live. To go back to experiencing all the joy and light life had to offer, and I knew the only way I could get there was by getting away from opioids.
It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, going from being stuck in a sedentary lifestyle to getting myself back to an active, joyful one. It took years.
But, like someone wise once said, the time will pass anyway. Why not spend it making changes, even if those changes are a long time in coming?
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