So, today, once I pick up my pants from the alterations lady, I’m placing myself on emergency spending lock-down. In going over my bank statement, I realized that, instead of my account information having been compromised and all my money spent by unscrupulous hackers on hookers and blow as I first thought, it’s actually that *I* have spent it all. Me. On stuff. And things.
The way I discovered this is a cautionary tale in itself — I logged on to pay some bills which are due tomorrow, only to discover I do not presently have enough in my account to cover them. Oh, sure — I get paid tomorrow and will pay the bills then and so there’s no real problem, and I’m not going to bounce anything. I do *have* some money (I won’t say how much) but it’s decidely Not Much, and is, I believe, the lowest account balance I’ve had in years. I like to have a bit of a cushion, because I’ve been there before (hello, student years!) and few things terrify me like running out of funds.
This is all just particularly embarrassing in this New World of Frugality and Conservative Spending we all seem to be living in at the moment. I know that there are a lot of contributing factors in my own case — and that a big part of it is actually a bit of a cry of help in response to all the things I don’t have any control over right now on a global level and in my own personal life. My hope is that seeing that scarifyingly low) figure today and saying “enough” is my own answer to that cry — a recognition that I need to actually slow down and deal with my reaction to all that seems to be spiralling out of control, to find a healthier, more productive outlet for these emotions than pure acquisitiveness. I know that instead of continuing to self-medicate with shopping, whether it’s books or clothes or wine or paint, whether I pay full price or get it on such a good deal that it would be crazy to pass it up, all I’m going to be left with is a pile of crap I don’t want or need, a hangover, and debt — and that’s just going to feed the other demons. It’s time to stop making jokes about single-handedly propping up the economy and get real with myself about why I’ve let it get this far.
So. Off to pick up my pants, start restringing my monetary safety net, and actually address some problems. Boy howdy, admitting to yourself that you have issues is exhausting. Anyone know a good therapist?
