Compulsive Spending Part I: Birth of an Addiction

Box full of pens...most never used!

 It's quite difficult for me, as it is for most people, to talk about my problems, especially those that stem from my own character flaws.  Really, really hard.  For many people, there is much shame around our weaknesses.  I know that secrets feed shame and speaking about it can release us of that shame, so that's partly why I blog about my journey.  It's also important to me that people talk about how life really is when living with bipolar, depression or other mental illnesses to dispel the mysteriousness of mental illness that some people find frightening or just plain weird.  In light of all this, I want to share an in-depth look at my experience with compulsive spending over the past four years, despite how nauseous it makes me feel to put it all out there for everyone to read (and thus, judge me).

A few years ago, I knew nothing about compulsive spending but I was quite familiar with compulsive eating.  My gastric bypass in December of 2008 succeeded in helping me shed about 100 pounds.  I haven't kept off all the weight because I've reverted to some poor eating habits.  However, when I first had surgery and couldn't eat much at all, compulsive eating lost its ability to soothe me.  Something had to take its place - most addictions aren't shed but rather replaced by other addictions.  I began to enjoy shopping, especially clothes shopping. 

I cried in countless dressing rooms over the years.  I often shopped in the mens' department, which was even more demoralizing.  Post bypass, the sizes I owned became saggy and I quickly went through smaller sizes, and shopping became more appealing.  It didn't stop at clothes, though.  I enjoyed shopping for items I didn't need and often never used.

Like many people with bipolar disorder, I have co-occurring mental illnesses.  This means I have other conditions that also contribute to bipolar disorder or perhaps are a result of it.  One of these is obsessive compulsive disorder.  Many people think of OCD as an illness where one must flip the light switch on and off a certain number of times or enter a room a certain number of times, but again, I'm fortunate to have OCD that is much milder and impacts my life less severely.  The difficulty with multiple diagnoses is that it is harder to sort out which symptoms belong to which illness, and thus the best way to treat them.  Maybe it doesn't really matter which symptoms belong to which illness, but it is frustrating when treatment only helps some of my symptoms while other aspects of the illnesses greatly interfere in my life. 


Let's take compulsive spending, for example.  I don't know whether the spending stems from bipolar disorder or OCD, but it is a common occurrence for bipolar patients to have spending sprees and money management issues, often ruining lives and relationships.  A few years ago, I wouldn't have believed in the authenticity of compulsive spending as a true addiction.  I would have judged "compulsive spenders" as lacking self-restraint and discipline.  I would have labeled the "illness" as an excuse.  

One of the benefits of experiencing these illnesses is the lessons they teach me.  I've learned a great deal about making judgments and walking a mile in another's shoes. 


I have insight into where my spending habits come from.  I grew up in a lower middle class family and watched my family endure countless years of financial hardship.  I hoarded my allowance, saving nearly every dime.  I didn't ask for much and didn't need for much.  I had wants but mostly kept them to myself and I felt good about being thrifty.  I pretended not to care that my clothes were often bought second-hand or that I didn't wear the name brands that the other kids wore.  Deep down, though, the sense that I was "less than" and not "good enough" began to take shape.  I attempted to find other ways to prove myself, and I tried to be a perfect daughter, a perfect student, and to do anything I could not to be a burden on anyone.  



In college, I paid my own way most of the time and lived on student loans.  At times I had $20 to live on for the month, and I prided myself on living on so little.  I cherished my independence.  When I had to ask others for help, especially financial help, it crushed me and again I felt "less than."


Enter Kyle. 


The first time Kyle and I grocery shopped together he put  items into the cart without a second thought and I panicked because I couldn't keep track of what we spent.  Used to accounting for every penny, it was overwhelming to causually spend money.  In the early stages of our relationship and through the first year of marriage, I could hardly bring myself to spend money on anything that seemed frivolous or non-essential.  Kyle would encourage me to buy something for myself, but I seldom did.

Too soon, all that changed. 

Come back tomorrow for Part II of my compulsive spending series!