I’ve always had anxieties over money since I moved out in 2004. Mainly about the feeling of not having any when some is immediately needed. My emotions start to go into survival mode, like how can I do this until this happens, how can I possibly get through this, who can I ask for money and so on and so forth. Things from there get weird.
I don’t ever want to ask for money from somebody unless things get desperate. I don’t want people to give me money and then me not be able to pay them back -- I have been on the other end of that and quite frankly it is a bad end of the coin to be on. I don’t want to make people feel like I’ve felt so I just try to avoid asking for money altogether because of the fear that I will fail at paying the person back without any regard for likelihood of paying someone back.
But then we get into the situation where we are now, where I made a severe budgeting error, and… well, shit.
This is all part of the challenge. This is a part of the challenge of living. This is beyond the basic stuff, this is the advanced, non-mandatory but beneficial stuff I wish I had spent a little more time on before I was like “Hey I am going to try and move out.” I’m pretty much learning this as I go, and I feel like everyone else… EVERYBODY… has figured this shit out.
This is one of those areas in my life where I have major anxieties over. I don’t like to confront it. I get visibly irritated when it comes up in real life. But sometimes I just have to talk about it, talk it through. I wish I was more comfortable talking about this subject but I guess that won’t happen for a while. If you’re talking to me about this I might cry but one thing I have learned through a year of therapy is that I can talk through tears pretty solidly.
Another part of the challenge is the budget. Gotta hit all the targets at work to make the budget go. Not a lot of wiggle room in the budget but that’s because I am trying to maintain a standard of living and pay off a lot of debts to ease anxiety. I have lived in some pretty shitty places in the last calendar year (Chris house, “dark” house as I refer to it in therapy) and I finally found this place I am at now -- a place that is really nice and one I have signed a lease to stay at for a while. Now I just have to keep the rent paid. Easy if done properly, hard if I let myself slip.
I am trying to relearn and re-discipline myself as far as money goes… and it’s a bitch sometimes. But I have to keep trying and trying HARD to make this thing work.
I wish money didn’t drive me the wrong way up the crazy tree. But that’s how it goes.
Yeah, it’s true, money issues have contributed to my suicidality. I was ready to exit stage right at my lowest most confusing point. That’s when I asked someone for a large sum of money and we talked about developing a plan through the tears. I got some help and have been paying that back regularly, I developed a plan of attack, I got some help elsewhere… then a series of unfortunate tenements occurred, that was distracting and bad for everyone. Bad for me mostly -- I had to live in the places people were talking mad crap about. I don’t think anyone ever saw too much of the Chris house but I can describe it in one word: slum. But, so far, everything I have heard about this place are good things and I intend on keeping that going every month in a timely manner.
I don’t know. Here it is, the elephant in the room, the one thing that drives me either to work really hard or to get really emotional. I think money is really hard to get because I have no built in safety net, make a set amount of money each hour, and work REALLY hard for the money. I know what I make in a year and also have a pretty keen eye on how much money my checkered past is still costing me. I just wish… I just wish I could get a break, or some leverage, or some more relief without running the risk of breaking someone’s belief in me. (I think my one opportunity for that came and went in the series of unfortunate tenements, when I was gifted a large sum of money and then spent it on the Chris house and the deposit for the dark house. Money I will never see again! You know what I would have rather spent that on? “Candy,” as one of my soccer players helpfully answered for me at one time.)
You know why this is so disconnected? Because that’s how my brain handles it -- not very well. I am trying to figure it out though, that might be a long, long series of exercises. I just wish it didn’t put me on full tilt so often.