April 23, 2025
Author: Lila Jackson
It’s 1:29 AM, and I can’t shake off the feeling of embarrassment and frustration that’s been building all day. It all started with a simple plan: go to Shoppers Drug Mart, use my points, and grab a $4 Coca-Cola. A small treat, really, but it felt like a lifeline. I don’t have much these days—no job, no bank account, and honestly, not much to look forward to. I’ve been getting by on scraps and whatever I can scrounge together. I thought I deserved a little something for once. A $4 bottle of Coke wasn’t too much to ask for, right?
I walked into the store, a little nervous but hopeful. The points were supposed to cover it, so all I had to do was swipe my card, and I’d walk out with my treat. Simple. But when I tried to use my points at the self-checkout, the system went down. I watched the screen blink and freeze, and before I knew it, my quiet hope turned into full-blown panic.
The frustration hit me like a ton of bricks. I started muttering under my breath, pacing around the machine. I could feel the anger building up inside me, tightening my chest. I was getting so worked up over something so small, but in that moment, it felt like the world was crumbling around me. The kind of meltdown you try to avoid, but it just bubbles over, and there’s no turning back.
A few minutes passed, and the cashier came over, trying to fix the issue. It wasn’t her fault, I knew that, but the floodgates had opened. “Why is this happening to me? I’ve had nothing but trouble lately!” I snapped. My voice was louder than I intended. The whole store felt like it was watching me. I felt humiliated, but the anger wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t even get a damn soda, and it felt like it was the last straw in a life that’s been nothing but one disappointment after another.
The cashier apologized again, but I couldn’t hear her. I was spiraling, my head clouded with frustration, shame, and the all-too-familiar feeling of being stuck. I left without the Coke, without even bothering to say anything. The system was down, but that felt like the least of my problems at that moment. It was the loss of another tiny, fleeting pleasure, the loss of another opportunity to feel like I was part of something that didn’t constantly remind me how little I had.
Now, I’m here, wide awake, my mind racing at 1:29 AM. I keep thinking about how pathetic I feel. I mean, what kind of grown woman has a meltdown over a $4 bottle of Coke? The thing is, it wasn’t really about the soda. It was about everything else—the way life keeps hitting me with obstacles that feel so small on the outside but are huge when you’ve got nothing else to cling to. I can’t remember the last time I felt like I had control over anything.
So here I am, still frustrated, still wide awake, wondering where it all went wrong. I know I’m not the only one struggling out there, but right now, it sure feels like it.
