Compulsive spending brings out a part of me I don't like; a person I don't want to be. The me I show to the world is responsible and pulled together. Compulsive Me is fragmented and in internal chaos. Compulsive Me is late
for appointments because she had stop to look for the latest bargain. She loses track of time in stores and realizes she has spent hours
there and neglected her other responsibilities. She makes me hate her and feel deep shame.
I lie by omission to Kyle, not telling him how bad it's become. This is the worst. I once deemed myself trustworthy and I highly valued this character trait. Now, because I handle the finances and he never asks, it becomes possible to hide the severity of my illness. I go to treatment in Texas for six weeks, but nothing really changes when I come home. He still doesn't look at the budget or the check register. I don't have to cover anything up because he doesn't inquire. A part of me is resentful that I am not getting any help from him on this, and I feel frustrated, alone, angry, sad, and mostly ashamed of how weak I have become. Ashamed of the secrets. Terrified of the loneliness. And haunted by the financial impact that spending is having on my life.
To my credit, I have a need to pay my bills on time and in full. At least I am not using the mortgage money to buy new shoes. It is the discretionary money I can't keep my hands off of. Money set aside for groceries and fuel and other basics is at my disposal. I resolve to spend only X amount of money, but within a week or two I've spent nearly all of it, with another week or two to go before the next paycheck would arrive. The insurance check comes before the roof repair is complete. When the bill finally comes, the money is long gone.
In the midst of all this - when my spending was at its worst - I left full time employment because other aspects of my illness were getting so difficult to deal with. I needed some time to get well. While leaving work lessened my anxiety a great deal, it also left me feeling worthless, purposeless and once more, less than. And as Kyle's job became increasingly demanding, stressful and wearing, my guilt mounted exponentially.
What better way to deal with those feelings of low self-worth and guilt than to go on a little shopping run? Gleeful in the moment of spending, all too soon came even more self-loathing. How to tell my husband, who works sometimes up to 60 hours a week, that we don't even have the money for a tank of gas or a week's worth of groceries? I burned with shame, yet not even that could diminish the drive I felt to spend, and I would soon be back in a store spending money I didn't have.
In the interest of full disclosure, thus began the opening of several store credit accounts. I currently pay on about 12 credit accounts each month to stores like TJ Maxx and Target. I could easily be accumulating substantial savings, maintaining a dream vacation account for us, or paying off our mortgage faster. However, I'm paying ridiculous interest rates on cards that I never should have opened. The juggling act I do to ensure everything is paid in full every month and on time brings me sleepless nights. Extreme stress, as a consequence of my spending, brings me new or more severe symptoms of bipolar disorder. Yet, I continue to do it. I keep spending.
You might think that my house would look like an episode of Hoarders, with all these purchases. Oddly enough, I have very little to show for all the money spent. As I stated in yesterday's blog, I tend to donate often to Goodwill and post items to Freecycle. I can't tell you where thousands of dollars went. It is a complete reversal from where I was five years ago, when Kyle couldn't get me to buy a new book for myself. Now I can't seem to stop the bleeding.
I like to think every cloud - or in this case, every severe thunderstorm - has a silver lining.
Check the blog tomorrow to find out how I am working to make compulsive spending part of my history rather than my today.
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