October 2021

Most of the time when people think of addictions, they think of drugs, alcohol, gambling, cigarettes, or even sex. Fortunately, I do not count any of these among my vices. But I do struggle with addiction, and, like any serious addiction, the repercussions of my compulsions have led to major consequences. 

As I mentioned in an earlier post, part of the reason I last attempted suicide was due to financially feeling overwhelmed and out of control. I was and have been in such a dire financial situation because of my manic spending habits three years ago. But it would be dishonest to fail to acknowledge that I also have a shopping addiction.

There’s just something about ordering, receiving, and trying on new clothing that makes me feel like I can start my life fresh. A new chapter, if you will. Because finally my collection is complete. Finally, I have that missing piece. Finally, I can show the world who I truly am!

Getting dressed each morning gives me purpose to my day. When COVID-19 started and we weren’t allowed into work, I struggled with the change in routine but continued to get dressed each morning, which helped. I get complimented on my outfits a LOT. Clothing is my creative outlet (as is makeup, to a lesser extent). The compliments are rewarding, feeding that pleasure center of my brain, only to reinforce my desire to buy and own more clothes. I rarely wear the same outfit twice in the same situation.

One of my favorite quotes, which I feel captures my views on clothing, comes from Blair Waldorf’s character on Gossip Girl: “Fashion is the most powerful art there is. It’s movement, design, and architecture all in one. It shows the world who we are and who we’d like to be.”

I shop to cheer myself up when I’m down or depressed. I shop when I see somebody wearing something and want something similar. I shop because I received a coupon or found a great deal. I shop because Facebook had an ad for something I like. I shop because I’m bored. I shop because I haven’t shopped in a while. And most dangerously – I shop when I’m manic.

When I was a kid, my family grew up below the poverty line. I had a lot of great supports in place, and my father – divorced from my mother – was upper middle class, so I was able to experience a lot in life. But my dad did not believe in buying new clothes, so, like my sisters, I lived on hand-me-downs from neighbors, and other cast-off donations. I attended and graduated from a line of wealthy schools where ones’ clothing choices let you know where one belonged on the ladder of wealth, and it mattered. I was teased for not having the latest fashion trends, and only having worn down clothing.

I also grew up with a dad who otherwise spoiled me when it came to food, games, and experiences, so I almost missed the lesson on delayed gratification. Thank goodness for mom. At the same time, I had an aunt who would take me shopping from a young age only to have me proclaim the following mantra on repeat, finding it funny at the time: “Why are we girls? Because we shop! Why do we shop? Because we’re girls!” Three years ago, she sincerely apologized for it.

At 12-years-old I started babysitting. Then, at 14, I got a job at my church. Shortly thereafter, while a sophomore in high school, I started working in a small restaurant and, later but congruently, retail. I dedicated my earnings to saving toward my first car, taking my sisters out to nice dinners, and – you guessed it – buying nicer clothing. I began to fit in.

I continued working in a mix of retail and restaurants through undergrad – retail predominantly for the discount because the pay was nothing compared to serving. One summer, I worked at a well-known restaurant chain which earned me an incomparable amount in tips. My rent was minimal and I finally had the money to buy the expensive clothes I’d always wanted, and it felt so good.

Wearing a ring, but ain’t gon’ be no “Mrs.”

Bought matching diamonds for six of my bitches

I’d rather spoil all my friends with my riches

Think retail therapy my new addiction

• 7 rings, Ariana Grande

Coincidentally, that was the summer that I read a book called, Confessions of a Shopaholic. In it, the protagonist winds up with astronomical outstanding debt due to her shopping habits. “Who could ever be so irresponsible?” I thought.

Many people who experience mania have reckless behaviors in which they engage during an episode. While shopping might have been a small problem when I was in my early 20’s, I had other impulses at that time. Shopping became more of a problem the older I got and the more money I made. Still, I had it mostly under control until 3-years ago when I began my massive spiral out of control. Now, it’s an itch I can’t scratch.

In May 2019 I stopped shopping for one full month, though still laden with anxiety at the compulsion to shop and the conscious battle not to. The next month my mania spiked and I spent six thousand dollars in one day. That’s about when a normal person would – should – have sought help, but I didn’t want to, and, being manic, I didn’t see the need to. It only took three more weeks before I was hospitalized. And what’s crazy is that I was hospitalized for the suicidal ideation, not the extreme mania, the shopping of which my friends and family were constantly expressing concern about.

I think about shopping all the time. Now that my mania is under control, I do not make too many large or impulsive purchases, but it’s still hard to regulate all the time. For example, this past June while stable, no depression or mania in sight, I decided that I needed a new workout wardrobe as I would soon be starting ballet class. I never give anything – or dress in any way – less than 100%. I’m an all-or-nothing kind of girl. So, I spent a few hundred dollars on new leotards and onesies and high waisted biker shorts in the span of a couple days. I was on a fitness kick, so I went ahead and also bought Bala wrist and ankle Bangles and a Power Ring and a Beam all at once. I knew I did not have the money for these but I did it anyway, because otherwise my heart raced, my breathing quickened, I ruminated – think every thought on how I NEEDED this item in my life, and how I NEEDED to calm the thoughts in my head or I just might explode.

Shopping is a dangerous addiction because you spend money you do not have on things you do not need. And then you’re left not eating because you can’t afford to. You’re forced to live in the apartment behind your parent’s house because you can’t afford rent anywhere. My worst fear is that I will end up homeless and living on the streets because I’ve spent just far too much. Even right now, I’m thinking about shopping: a few things on Amazon for work, some decorations for Halloween, and some clothes from Free People; but I Don’t. Have. The. Money.

Almost two years ago, I cut up my credit cards. I live on my debit card alone. A large portion of my monthly pay goes toward paying down credit card debt and student loan payments. It’s terrifying, to say the least, to know I have no safety net in case of an emergency. I am not where I wanted to be in life. I’m 32-years-old and nowhere near saving to buy a house. But that’s what addictions do, they take your future and your dreams away from you.

Whoever said money can’t solve your problems

Must not have had enough money to solve ‘em

• 7 rings, Ariana Grande