I was at work on 5 November, 2010, when suddenly and without any warning signs I just fell to the floor. At the emergency department of Macquarie University
Hospital in Sydney, doctors confirmed I had suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm. The next morning, they operated by implanting tiny platinum coils, about the thickness of human hair, into the aneurysm to stop blood flow. But soon after, I began to deteriorate, a sign that the coil procedure wasn’t successful. This led to brain aneurysm clipping, which involved using a metal clip to stop and prevent the aneurysm from bleeding or further rupture.
After three weeks in intensive care, I was moved to The Hills Private Hospital, where I began physical rehab. There I faced significant muscle weakness due to atrophy, which required me to rebuild my strength from scratch. Furthermore, my brain injury had also affected my balance, making it necessary for me to relearn the basic skill of walking. Back home, three weeks later, unable to even walk up the stairs, I was cared for round the clock by my two brothers, Jordan and Joshu, my parents Marie and Lawrence and my partner, Merv, who I also counted on for my rehab sessions as an outpatient for the next six months.
I was also unfortunately left with several hidden side effects. I have right-sided facial numbness including hearing loss because of nerve damage and as a result, I suffer from severe headaches whenever I’m exposed to loud sounds, as they’re now channelled solely through my left ear. I also have persistent neck and shoulder pain for which I get massages frequently. However, the most unexpected consequence of my condition has been the loss of memories. I’ve found it impossible to recall specific details about my childhood and school years. While the doctors had warned me that my life would be forever altered, I didn’t realise at the time this would be something that I would forever have to be managing. To this day, 14 years on, I still take painkillers to manage my pain.
I started to see a psychologist. She diagnosed me with anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder and put me on antidepressants. Even though I was resistant about medication to begin with, over a number of months, Merv noticed a positive difference in my mood and how I responded to situations more calmly. I’ve acknowledged the importance of sticking to my medication regimen ever since.
Finding solace in alcohol
When I was discharged from hospital my neurosurgeon advised that I should never drink to excess – something I had done in the past. A year after my aneurysm and struggling with life due to my chronic pain, I ignored his warnings.
By then I’d been let go from my marketing job because on my doctor’s advice, I could only work eight-hour weeks. That abrupt change left me feeling angry and helpless, as none of this was my choice. Unable to find a part-time job, I launched a meal preparation business, worked at a call centre, and even provided care for a child with autism. The harsh reality was that, despite my ongoing pain, I had to contribute to our household expenses, including our mortgage, after being denied disability benefits due to Merv’s income exceeding the eligibility threshold.
Facing reality was a big challenge for me. I just wanted to close out the world and I hated everything. To cope, I resorted to drinking like I used to, up to five drinks before even feeling the slightest tipsy. However, after the surgery, I discovered that even a single drink would hit me hard.
Despite this newfound awareness, I persisted to have a handful of drinks over the weekend to numb my feelings. Unfortunately, this led to my first experiences with blackouts and memory loss due to alcohol, which only worsened my situation. After I was able to return full-time to my marketing career in 2015, I was promoted as a marketing manager within a year, which significantly boosted my self-esteem, and I started to feel like I could again gain control of my destiny. Subsequently, I started working out and I married Merv on our 10-year anniversary. This period marked a significant turning point in my life, filled with positivity and promise. In May 2018, I suffered a massive setback. After not feeling well during after-work drinks I went home. My headache didn’t feel like a usual one and unable to eat, I burst out crying. Merv immediately took me to the emergency room. A brain scan revealed a brain bleed. When the doctor confirmed it was a stroke, I just lost it. I felt completely defeated by life. Unable to operate due to its location, they put me on blood thinners for six months. Luckily, the tear repaired itself.
However, my drinking habits as a result spiralled out of control. I’d come home from work and immediately reach for a glass of wine, which eventually escalated to consuming three bottles of wine and a flask of vodka in a single evening, sometimes behind my partner’s back. To make matters worse, I was also taking opioid medication while drinking, and at one point, I’d finish my entire monthly prescription of 20 pills within just two to three days. The effect was daily blackouts. I was essentially numbing myself to avoid feeling anything. I was trapped in a vicious cycle of self-destruction.
The ultimatum
During the COVID-19 pandemic, fights with my husband became a daily occurrence. I’d pick arguments by bringing up things from the past. When it came to him trying to stop me from binge drinking, pointing out the risks I was taking, I didn’t want to hear anything. My blackouts meant that when I did respond, I would insult him and hurt his feelings. But the next day I would wake up to an angry partner with no recollection of what I’d said. He reached a point whereby unable to help me anymore he gave me a choice: “If you don’t start to seek help, I’m going to start thinking about leaving you.”
In June 2020, I checked myself into St John of God Burwood Hospital and into their 28-day Drug and Alcohol Addiction Inpatient Program. Inevitably I started to face reality. They taught me other methods of coping with pain, like mindfulness.
From a psychological perspective they asked me to examine my childhood and how that informed me as an adult, which was eye-opening. I realised that because I was very close to my paternal grandmother, following her death when I was age six, I didn’t want to get close to anything or anyone out of fear of losing them. Drinking as a young adult then became my way of pushing people away. Overall rehab was successful at getting to the root cause of many of my challenges and resulted in me never drinking again.
Better medicine
A review with my GP in October 2024 further led to my resolve never to drink alcohol. It was determined that within the next 15 to 20 years, I was to experience short-term memory loss, like dementia. That shocked me. This led to a discussion with my doctor about my opioid use, alcohol abuse over the years, my brain injury and my current and future need for pain medication.
Since then, I’ve been trialling a few new ways to work with pain medication in the hopes to significantly decrease my usage. I’m also proactively trying to exercise and use my brain differently by learning new skills. I work out three times a week with a personal trainer, I’ve done a beginner’s class in Brazilian jiu jitsu and I’m learning chess. I’ve begun to learn the guitar to honour my dad who plays at family gatherings, in order to continue his musical legacy one day.
Work-wise, since March 2024, I’m the chief growth officer at Find a Carer, a business that connects carers and clients with aged care and the National Disability Insurance Scheme. It’s also made me realise we need more carers as our ageing population is growing.
Over the past four years my social life has significantly declined. I only go out for friends’ birthdays and the occasional catch-up, and when I do, I don’t drink.
My hearing impairment still affects me, making it challenging to cope with loud environments. I’ve learned to acknowledge and accept my vulnerability by leaving early when needed. I’ve managed to maintain my friendships despite these challenges.
If you’re going through chronic pain, go and see a therapist, a counsellor, a psychologist or even a psychiatrist who may prescribe medication which can improve your life. Mostly, do the self-development work. Begin meditation, pick up new hobbies and stop scrolling, because from my experience it’s really bad for mental health.
Find more exciting things to fill your day – it will make a huge difference in your journey, as it has mine.
Photo: Joshua Foon.
