Going back to 2019 – 2020, I was newly relocated to Cebu trying to explore life on my own. With all the courage I had at that time, I decided to move out and live independently. Somehow, I even found the confidence to apply as a barista at a local coffee shop despite having zero experience.
Honestly, it was one of the happiest seasons of my life.
I enjoyed every part of it. Making coffee, talking to customers, learning latte art, the smell of coffee beans every shift, and even the exhaustion after work. But little did I know that my barista stint would also become the start of me hitting the lowest point of my life.
I got so attached to the idea of excelling in that field that I slowly forgot my actual reality. I was still a web developer at night.
Of course, freelancing was the one paying most of my bills. It was the “real” job. But if we’re talking about happiness and excitement, I would choose being a barista in a heartbeat back then. Slowly, I lost interest in freelancing. My body, mind, and heart wanted coffee shop life more than anything else.
At the same time, I was stuck in a project that felt impossible to finish. I was already so behind on deadlines that the café became my escape from reality instead of just a job I enjoyed.
I started making excuses not to work.
Then eventually, I created the biggest lie I ever told a client and my boss at that time. I went completely MIA for around one to two weeks. No messages, no emails, nothing. Looking back now, I honestly think I was mentally shutting down from everything happening all at once.
What’s crazy is people around me had no idea what was happening inside my head. From the outside, it probably just looked like I was irresponsible or lazy. But internally, I was drowning.
Since I wasn’t working properly anymore, money started disappearing fast. I missed paying bills. The café salary barely covered anything at that time. Then eventually, I missed our car loan payments and the bank repossessed our van.
That was my wake-up call.
For the first time, I realized I didn’t need to carry everything alone. I had a family I could lean on, but during that season I isolated myself so much that I convinced myself I had to solve everything on my own.
After the repossession, I made one of the hardest calls and messages of my life. I finally contacted my boss.
I told them I got robbed, lost my laptop, and was traumatized from the incident. Truthfully, it was a lie. Eventually, they found out the truth. But despite everything, they still gave me a second chance.
Of course, things were no longer the same after that. New rules were imposed regarding my work status, and understandably so. But even until today, I’m still grateful she trusted me enough to let me come back and rebuild myself slowly.
At the same time, my dad had to get a loan just to recover our van.
Honestly, I think that became one of the things he never fully forgave me for.
Even now, years later, my dad still questions me about money sometimes. Whenever I treat them out, buy gifts, or spend on something that looks expensive, they always ask if I’m really okay financially. They never want to burden me when it comes to money anymore because of what happened back then.
I won’t lie, it still hurts sometimes.
But I also think that feeling became my daily reminder.
A reminder that while I may be doing okay now, I should never allow myself to go back to that version of me again.
I don’t want to return to that person. Reckless. Selfish. Lost. Mentally exhausted. Making terrible decisions while pretending everything was still under control.
Looking back now, I can finally say I’m grateful for that season.
Not because it was beautiful, because honestly it wasn’t.
But because it humbled me in ways success never could.
It taught me that burnout can slowly turn into self-destruction. That passion alone cannot carry you if your responsibilities are collapsing behind you. That avoiding problems will only make them louder eventually. And most importantly, it taught me that asking for help is not weakness.
Looking back now, I’m strangely grateful that my own wrong decisions traumatized me enough to become more careful with life, especially financially.
Lowest of the low indeed.
But never going back.