For the first time, she considered it.
What if she took just a few more than the recommended dose?
Just enough to make it stop.
Her breath hitched. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the bottle cap.
Then,
A loud bang at the door.
She gasped, jerking her hand away.
The knocking came again, urgent and insistent.
“Adebisi!” Tola’s voice rang through the door. “Open up!”
Adebisi sat frozen, her heart hammering. She hadn’t told Tola where she lived. How did she…?
“Adebisi, I know you’re in there,” Tola called again, her voice thick with emotion. “Please, just open the door.”
Adebisi hesitated, then, with shaky steps, she got up and unlocked the door.
The moment it swung open, Tola stepped inside and pulled her into a tight hug.
“I had a dream,” Tola whispered, her voice trembling. “I saw you… and I knew I had to come.”
Adebisi broke. The walls she had built, the mask she wore, everything crumbled as she sobbed into her friend’s shoulder.
She didn’t know how, but somehow, in that moment, she knew she wasn’t alone.
And maybe, just maybe, God wasn’t as far away as she thought.
Adebisi had never been more exhausted in her life.
She sat curled up on the couch, knees pulled to her chest, while Tola paced the small living room. The dim light from the bedside lamp barely softened the tension in the air.
Tola had been quiet since Adebisi stopped crying. Now, she stood still, arms crossed, studying her like a puzzle she couldn’t solve.
“Bisi…” Tola’s voice was gentle but firm. “What’s going on?”
Adebisi inhaled shakily, staring at the floor.
Where would she even begin?
Would she start with the panic attacks that left her gasping for air in the middle of the night?
Or the pills that dulled the sharp edges of her thoughts but also made her feel like a stranger in her own body?
Maybe she should talk about the gnawing guilt, the voice in her head that told her she wasn’t enough, that she had let God down, that she would never be free of this thing.
Or maybe she should just tell the truth.
“I don’t know who I am anymore.”
Tola sat beside her, searching her face. “What do you mean?”
Adebisi swallowed. “It’s like… I used to be sure of myself, you know? I used to know where I stood, what I believed. But now…”
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I don’t recognize myself. I feel… lost.”
Tola was silent for a moment. Then, softly, “Because of the anxiety?”
Adebisi let out a humorless laugh. “That’s part of it. But it’s more than that.”
She hesitated, fingers tightening around the fabric of her oversized hoodie.
“I’ve been struggling with something for years.”
Tola waited.
Adebisi exhaled. “I have a spending problem.”
She could feel the words hang heavy between them.
Shame crawled up her spine. She had never said it out loud before. Never admitted it to anyone.
She expected judgment. Shock. Disgust.
What she didn’t expect was for Tola to reach for her hand.
“Okay,” Tola said, squeezing gently. “Keep going.”
Tears burned Adebisi’s eyes. She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to continue.
“I don’t know when it started. Maybe in university. Maybe even before that. But every time I felt anxious or empty, I’d buy something. Clothes, makeup, things I didn’t need. It gave me this temporary high, like I was in control of something. But then the guilt would hit, and I’d feel worse. And so I’d do it again.”
Tola nodded, listening intently.
“At first, it wasn’t that bad. Just small things. But now… now I’m drowning in debt.” Adebisi’s voice cracked.
“I took loans, borrowed from friends, maxed out my cards. My salary barely covers my bills because I’m too busy paying for my bad decisions.”
She buried her face in her hands.
“I tell myself I’ll stop, but I can’t. It’s like the moment I feel anxious, the first thing I think of is what I can buy to make it go away. It’s like… it’s controlling me.”
A sob escaped before she could stop it.
“I feel like I’m fighting a war I can’t win.”
Tola pulled her into another hug, holding her tightly. “You’re not fighting alone, Bisi.”
Adebisi closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the comfort of it.
But deep down, she wasn’t sure if she believed that anymore.
….
Author’s Note
Anxiety and depression are real struggles. And those temporary fillers you turn to when facing an identity crisis or feeling empty? They’re real too.
What do you think about Adebisi’s journey so far? Please comment below!
See you in the next Episodeđź“Ś
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