That Poor December Night
Refresh, refresh, refresh but nothing. I was sweating cold moisture, my hands were shaking and my fingernails were all bitten. Vanessa, don’t worry everything is going to be okay. The reality was, that it wasn’t going to be alright, I was broken and didn’t have money to spend on innovated embellishments. My banking account was in zeros, my life was lost in poverty and there was nothing I was able to do. My name is Vanessa Collins
and I am a shopaholic.
Throughout these past years, I’ve lived a life full of glamor, trend, joy, and excitement. I was able to enter stores and dish out thousands of British Pounds. I was passionate about clothing, technology, and even food. My mom once told me, “Vannessa, if you keep doing what you do, no good will get to you.” She used to remind me that every time since my father’s death I used to be one of those rebellious teens who didn’t listen to their parents and always find a way to get away from everything. I didn’t care what my momma told me, but I guess I was wrong. My father got diagnosed with a strong type of bone cancer called osteosarcoma and within months he was gone. My pain meds and antidepressants for my solitary soul were shopping. This new habit erased my mind completely, freed me into a new parallel universe and I was able to reach nirvana. The advertisements hypnotized me, and the fashion runaways blinded me. I couldn’t resist the brand new things that came out every day; those shiny neon shoes killed me and the jet black iPhone was calling me. To be honest, all of these was
better than sex.
I decided to get professional help, my mom forced me to visit a psychiatrist, a psychologist, and even a shaman to get over with my father’s death and quit my addiction to shopping. I was diagnosed with many mental illnesses, such as a light level of schizophrenia, depression, and compulsive buying disorder, but to be honest, I didn’t believe what those crazy doctors said. People call me unhinge and dement, turned their backs around when they saw me. I prefer telling all those people who didn’t support me that I suffer from a syndrome called consumerism, which forces
me to consume goods as an obligation.
These past months, my life made a complete switch. I recently lost my job due to lack of concentration and dedication, and the bank took my house away. I’ve borrowed lots of Pounds from many people. I owe the bank, I owe my mom, I owe my sister-in-law, I owe my brother, I owe my
best friend, and I even owe the community priest. So basically, I owe
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