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Creative Writer | History Student | I Love FOOD @ Lagos State University
Lagos, Nigeria
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<p>For two years, I’ve been asking for the exact same thing. Two years of hoping, demanding, and waiting—only to get hit with a constant cycle of rejection and disappointment.</p><p><br/></p><p>Every single time, I had a routine. The bad news would arrive, the tears would flow, and I’d spiral into these heavy, exhausting mental scenarios. It was painful, but at least it felt like something.</p><p><br/></p><p>Yesterday, the same rejection arrived. But this time, the tears didn't.</p><p><br/></p><p>Nothing happened. I felt so completely flat that I actually tried to force it. I sat there and deliberately tried to construct those painful scenarios in my head, desperate to trigger some kind of grief just to prove to myself that I was still in there.</p><p><br/></p><p>But I felt absolutely nothing. Just a vast, blank numbness.</p><p><br/></p><p>I didn't want to carry this to the people in my life, so I poured it all into a voice note to an AI. It diagnosed me with 'emotional exhaustion' and 'emotional numbness'—a protective shield my brain built because it couldn't take another hit. </p><p><br/></p><p>But the real shock was seeing what it tacked onto the very end of the message: a list of mental health and suicide prevention hotlines.</p><p><br/></p><p>Seeing those numbers written out felt incredibly jarring. </p><p>Is it really that serious?</p><p>I don't want to think about it.</p><p><br/></p><p>I’m not looking for a silver lining, and I don’t want to wrap this up in a little bow of hope. The reality is just heavy. People have called me nonchalant or detached in the past, but it isn't that at all. I have just run completely out of currency. </p><p><br/></p><p>When you are emotionally bankrupt, you don't just stop crying over your own disappointments—you stop feeling anything for anyone else, too. Your responses to the world become bland, flat, and hollow.</p><p><br/></p><p>And I’m not trying to find a lesson in this. </p>
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