This has been a rough couple of weeks. I have been forced to confront some things that I was more comfortable just allowing to float under the surface...but I found that allowing them to float under the surface meant that they were constantly trying to rear their heads. It became exhausting and later impossible to keep them hidden and quiet.
A large chunk of my history is missing from this blog, and I once thought it was going to be a narrative that started with when I first heard the words "eating disorder" applied to my own condition, continued through what I have done and learned so far, and then provided a way to track what I am up to now in regards to recovery and treatment and realizing that it just might be possible for someone (even me!) to be "enough." However, I see now that what I really need is a place to put my thoughts as I have them, a safe place (at least for now, as I don't think anyone is reading a random blog written under a pseudonym whose author has made no effort to publicize her writings) where I can let the words flow and not worry about someone I know reading them and later bringing them up in casual conversation.
Anyway, I am a shopping and spending addict. I also have an eating disorder, and these two things are related (as is often the case with eating disorders...co-occurring disorders and addictions run rampant in our community - I also am seeing a psychiatrist for treatment for depression - major, clinical, sometimes-I-can't-get-out-of-bed depression - and anxiety, the kind that is always there, a hum in the background as I go about my days). I first became aware maybe six months ago that I was seeing in myself some of the same signs I saw on TV or read about in books about hoarding and hoarders. My home is a cluttered mess. Cleaning is not my strong point. I have dust bunnies in the corners, items piled on my coffee table and dining table, dishes in my sink, outdated food in my refrigerator, shoes piled by the front door, and only one spot on the couch where there is room for me to sit...the rest of the couch is piled with my "stuff." I brought this information to my therapist, thinking I was sharing something new, and her response was kind of like ::blink, blink, silence, head-tilt, start-to-say-something, stop, blink:: and then, "Is this the first time you are realizing this?" And it was the first time that I was equating my behavior with those people on TV whose homes were in danger of being condemned. I knew I was what I referred to as a compulsive shopper. But, much like I had about my beliefs about my weight and food issues, I had always thought I just needed to find the "right" budget to follow, and I could fix things right up.
Recently, with some encouragement on the part of my therapist, I decided to add up all the money I owed to my credit card companies. And the number was shocking. I knew that I had been spending a lot, using money I did not have, but I did not realizing that my credit card debt was coming dangerously close to the $50K mark. I felt instant and all-encompassing shame. My therapist suggested I look into a debt management plan, and I balked. I am not the kind of person who cannot handle her debt. I don't DO consumer credit counseling programs. Those are for people who make stupid decisions. I could do this on my own! I could pay this off! I just had to stop spending! I was going to give it a good go! And then I found an online calculator that showed me that, if I took the route I was planning to take, it would take over 40 years for me to be debt free, and I would spend over $100K on interest payments. My interest rates were as high as 30%. I had paid for the actual amount of money I spent many times over. I was not going to be able to do this on my own. With a heavy feeling in my chest and more than one bad thought about myself, I emailed my therapist to let her know my decision (Her response: "I am so proud of you!" My thought: "What is there to be proud of?") and made a call. And enrolled in a debt management plan. After being told it looked like my two choices were that or bankruptcy because the math didn't add up with any other option.
So. No more credit cards. And no cushion because I have already had to empty my emergency fund to pay my rent a couple of months ago when even my cash spending got out of control. Nothing to fall back on. And I do have enough pride not to let myself get into a situation where I can't pay my bills. So I am on lockdown. I am tracking every dollar out and every dollar in. Once I am a few months into the plan, I should be able to create a little bit of an emergency fund, but for now, every dollar has to be considered and accounted for. I can't just go to Target and wander the aisles and look for that instant gratifier that might feel good for a moment but will hit me right where it hurts later on. My last mail-ordered item that I ordered before the credit cards went away arrived last week. I have nothing else lurking out there, waiting for the mail carrier or the UPS driver to bring it to my door. Every day this week, I have found myself approaching my front door and having to catch myself as I start to wonder what might be waiting for me that day. And every day, I have found myself feeling a deep sense of loss, as I remembered that would not be happening anymore.
However, I have to admit that not every feeling surrounding this process has been bad. I have reached out to some people I trust and shared with them my story, and I have been met with nothing but support (I have made a major effort not to share with people who I don't expect to be supportive, which is new and different for me because I have a history of indiscriminate oversharing). I have stopped ignoring what was a very big problem and taken steps to deal with it. And I find myself thinking, just every once in a while, that maybe I am good enough for this kind of self-care. Maybe I don't deserve only bad things because of the horrible things I have done or the awful person I am or the darkness that lurks inside of me or the real me that I am hiding from everyone who thinks she knows me. I am finding that there is a little, tiny, almost inaudible voice inside of me that would like me to put myself first and is encouraging me to do so. For today, I am going to try to listen to her.
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