I Thought I Was Fine… Until I Collapsed on the Bathroom Floor

Last month, at exactly 6:18 a.m., I realized I was not the “I’m fine” I kept posting on Instagram.

I had just opened my eyes when my phone buzzed with work emails, WhatsApp messages, and one wicked notification from my bank reminding me I hadn’t met my “monthly savings goal.”

I laughed—one of those “God, why?” laughs.

I got up to brush my teeth… and the next thing I knew, I was sitting on the cold bathroom floor, heartbeat racing like a generator with low fuel.

“Guy, breathe,” I whispered to myself.

But my chest refused.

That was the morning everything changed.

As I sat there breathing like someone running from LASTMA, my friend Tolu barged into my place—he had a key because he’s dramatic like that.

“Why are you sitting on the floor like Netflix removed your favorite show?” he asked.

I pointed at my chest. “I think I’m dying.”

He knelt beside me, touched my forehead, and said:

“No, you’re not dying. You’re stressed.

Like… Olympic-level stressed.

When last did you sleep before 2 a.m.?”

I shrugged.

“When last did you eat real food?” he added.

“Bread is real food,” I argued weakly.

Tolu shook his head. “You need a wellness reset before your body logs out.”

Tolu dragged me—literally—to a private outdoor spot near the Lagoon, the type of place you see in travel blogs.

Soft waves. Palm trees. Birds that sounded like they had good upbringing.

“I’m starting you on a holistic wellness routine,” he said.

“Is it painful?” I asked.

“Only emotionally,” he replied.

He handed me:

A yoga mat

A bottle of infused detox water

Noise-canceling headphones

A journal with the title “UNPACK YOUR TRAUMA, KING”

I hissed. “This is why I don’t tell men my problems.”

But we started.

He made me do deep breathing, mindfulness exercises, and light stretching.

Tolu: “Inhale peace.”

Me: “Inhaling.”

Tolu: “Exhale stress.”

Me: “Exhaling.”

My brain: “Bills.”

My brain again: “Responsibilities.”

My brain again again: “Debt.”

After a few minutes, he looked at me and said:

“You’re sweating like someone doing JAMB exam. Relax.”

We both laughed, and somehow, that laugh loosened something tight inside me.

Later that evening, Tolu played soft nature music, and we tried a full meditation session.

He said, “Close your eyes and imagine your happiest place.”

I closed mine.

But instead of peace, I saw something strange:

Myself… sitting alone in a cluttered room filled with unfinished tasks, unread messages, dirty laundry, and empty energy drink cans.

It looked like my mind had been living in chaos and I didn’t even know.

I opened my eyes suddenly.

“Tolu, I think I just saw spiritual backlog.”

He laughed. “That’s burnout. Emotional block. You need real rest.”

The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual, stretched like a responsible adult, drank water, and even journaled.

I felt fresh—lighter.

But when I checked my phone…

I saw an email from my office.

“Due to recent restructuring, your role has been discontinued…”

I stared at the screen.

My heart dropped.

I whispered, “After all this wellness?”

Tolu rushed in when he heard me gasp. “What happened?”

I showed him the email.

He looked at me, then smiled slightly.

“You won’t believe this,” he said. “Check the next email.”

I scrolled down.

Another email from the same company:

“Due to an error, the previous email was sent to the wrong list. Please disregard. Your role remains secure.”

I blinked twice.

Tolu burst out laughing.

“Your blood pressure is doing marathon for no reason!”

I hit him with a pillow.

But in that moment, I realized something:

I had panicked, but I didn’t collapse.

My mind didn’t shut down.

My chest didn’t tighten.

The wellness routine was already working.

Now?

I take my mental health seriously.

I prioritize stress management, mindful eating, fitness, and work-life balance.

I meditate every morning—even if my brain sometimes wanders to shawarma.

I walk 7k steps daily.

I drink water like it’s an investment.

I sleep like someone being paid for it.

People keep telling me:

“You look calmer.”

“You look healthier.”

“You glow.”

And honestly…

They’re right.

For the first time in years,

I feel like a human being again—

not a machine waiting to malfunction.

Stress almost humbled me, but a friend, a yoga mat, and one chaotic meditation session helped me start my healing.

Self-care isn’t luxury.

It’s survival.

And if my story teaches you anything today, let it be this:

Listen to your body.

If you don’t slow down, it will slow you down by force.