Thread by @ItsUncleStephen

In light of the anti substance abuse project #MTNASAP for I’m part of, I’ll share a personal story.

Addiction is really easy to get into if one isn’t careful.

A THREAD

Few things bring me joy like writing. Especially once I’d found my niche in humor writing.

The joy of knowing someone is having a good day because of stories I tell gives a warm,fuzzy feeling.

But for a long time I struggled. Felt like an impostor

Why?

I’d tried to write other genre and come short. As much as I had found my strong point in humor, it felt awkward reading moving pieces from my peers especially then on Facebook, and unable to produce same.

Worse was when I was referred to as the guy who writes funny stuff

“You don’t know him, uncle Stephen, he writes jokes on Facebook and on his blog” I would be referred to as.

Wow! Jokes?. I didn’t pass as a serious writer in my mind. Even though each piece I write takes so much time and planning to execute, it was just a funny to people

I’d tried, hard. Tried to write love stories with emotional roller coasters that end up reading bland.

I tried crime(lol. No wonder I ain’t a good thief) tried horror too, and ended up scaring myself alone with the shit staring back at me on my laptop Olivia

Around this time, I met a babe. *Sandra.

This is the part where regular readers of my work say “Ehen! I knew it! Is it not Stevhoe again! Stevolosho!”

Anything you call me I gree. No wahala sir/ma

She was the most chilled babe I’d ever met. Chilled. Like she was firmly anchored and nothing the sea of life would throw at her could sway her.

A mid level manager where she worked at 27, living the Lagos single girl dream.

She adored my work.

We became close. I confided in her about my imposter syndrome and how I’ll like to write other things to be taken seriously in the literary world and for magazines etc

She confided in me, her secret for staying chilled, producing her best and tackling work stress

CODEINE.

I had noticed she always had a bottle of coke with her. Always. She’d take a swig from it, time to time, but I’d made nothing of it till she told me.

Till then, I’d prided myself in delivering without external incentives. I believed completely in my talent and nothing else

As MC back in school I would only drink alcohol at the end of my show.

When I moved to writing, it was on the strength of my abilities and nothing else.

So when she one day offered me coke and codeine as panacea to my other genre writing problem,
I refused

She was persuasive. Not forcibly but gently. I’d a deadline to submit a story to a blog. I had struggled for days to come up with something sensible. I could see the rejection letter for what I’d written.

“You know what? Screw it” I said

Took the bottle from her and took a sip

It didn’t taste bad actually, contrary to what I expected. Still had the syrupy taste but heavily doused by the coke. Ok! No wahala! I continued sipping and the world continued slowing down. My fingers though typing on the laptop at regular speed, visually, looked like x1/4

My world felt in a way I’d not experienced in ages.

Somewhere between reading what I thought was the silliest love story ever written and clicking send, I dozed off with Sandra laughing, in what sounded like the slow way witches in Nigerian movies do or maybe it was the codeine

Anyways fast forward to three days later, I received an email, story had been accepted and in-fact was going to be published.

It read beautifully. Felt like another person had written it. Brilliant choice of words to convey emotions.

The comments confirmed this

I’d submitted using a pseudo name and would send the link to the story to my friends who’ll read and go who’s this guy.

I remember telling someone I wrote it and he laughed saying no chance

Stevo you Na humor man. Who write this thing Abeg” he said

Was it me, was it the substance?

I was torn.

I tried to write something similar again and returned empty.

And as temptation goes, everywhere I turned, everywhere I looked, a bottle of codeine stared back at me. Something I’d never noticed before seemed everywhere now.

I know how many times I stopped short of walking into a pharmacy to buy a bottle.

How I would bang my laptop close, thinking wtf

I re read the piece I wrote and damn I really Maybe needed that codeine again.

Brethren I’d become addicted without being addicted.

The publishers wanted a sequel.

They were willing to pay this time even.

I wanted to have more than just hehe haha works associated with my name whenever someone googled me as a writer.

Sandra wanted to come over for the weekend to chill. She’d read my work and had a leg to stand on with her “I told ya” argument

I loved her company but it would put me in a position to take the C again.

I struggled.

Several thoughts crossed my mind:

It’ll just be when I want to write other stuff

I won’t be addicted.

Even if I did, it won’t like ruin me or something. I mean Sandra seems ok in her life and career

Ehn most creatives have a vice why should I be different

And many more

But I also knew myself. And if for one thing, I’ve always been able to have honest conversations with myself.

I wouldn’t be able to draw a line. Hell there would be no line if I crossed this. There’s usually no line for things like this.

I steeled myself and wrote

Every writer has that thing. No matter how long you put in a piece you still feel it’s not enough. Happens to me even with the threads I write here.

Anyways I submitted what I wrote without the codeine.

And guess what?!!

It was rejected

Lol! Classic ehn! Sure you thought it would end in praise.

But at that moment when the email came in, I asked myself if it was worth it. I was a brilliant writer in my niche, humor. Why struggle for something else when I could do this effortlessly and without regrets

I decided at that point, to focus on my strong point and continually improve my craft to be the best at what I can do and not resort to external help that’ll ruin me in the long run

I write this because of what I’ve seen happening this days. Too many young people abusing drugs

Recently met some 17 year olds and heard their conversation in passing.

Substance abuse is rife today and needs not be overlooked.

If you're not a user I assure you with all within me that both from a personal standpoint and stories I've read

E NO WORTH AM

If you have personal stories you'll like to share about substance abuse my DMS are open. I'll be lending my voice to this campaign for a greater part of the week and will like to thank @MTNNG and @bhmng for the opportunity to be a part of this. Meanwhile, watch this