Although I’m not sentimental about numbers (we have a love hate relationship, actually), it struck me to realize that I’m about to turn 30 in just over a month and I have about 30K in debt – and that’s just the credit cards. There’s also the 15K I have on my second line of credit and the 20K I owe to a family member. I don’t have a house to show for it, I don’t have a car to show for it, and I know my university education doesn’t validate the debt as none of that is student loans. I’m broke, I’ve hit rock bottom, and I’m angry. Why anger? I generally strive to be a serene individual on all fronts, but I’m happy I’m angry at my debt. I’m angry enough to declare war against it and climb myself out, and I’m pulling out the big guns to do so.
I won’t get into details about how I got into this mess, but it’s all my fault. I lay claim to every bad decision. I
have had a shopping addiction I am self-diagnosing as clinical, and I wanted it all. Not only did I shop to feel better about myself, my day, my decisions (I even shopped to feel better because I was depressed about all my debt – yes, yes, I know, I realize the absolutely asinine reasoning here) , but I also never said no to anything. Dinner out? Yes. Trip to Vegas/Thailand/Europe? Yes. Drinks night? I’ve been out the last 6 nights in a row, but yes. I had problems with self-control. I couldn’t tell myself no. My FOMO and need for new, shiny, exhilarating experiences/distractions was all consuming. And all these past tense references claiming I had a shopping addiction were all present tense until this morning. The bucks stops here. Literally.