Just Because I CAN buy something doesn’t mean I SHOULD. *sigh*

Thursday was a craptastic day in every regard. Woke up grouchy, work was not delightful, and I got some bad news about someone very sweet. After what seemed like an eternity, it was 4, time to leave the office. DP (one of my closest friends ever) says “Go shopping with me.” I say “Ok, let’s watch me try not to buy anything. LOL. Good luck, me.” This exchange was over the IM, I do not say “LOL” out loud. On the drive to the shopping center, I was telling myself “Self, this will be no problem. You will just help her pick out stuff, and that will be almost as good as picking out stuff for yourself.” Full of confidence, I enter the store.

This is my first time in a non-grocery store this week, so this is my first test since I confessed my secret to everyone and decided to change. I was always an A student in school, and have never done poorly on a test. Until now. There, spread out before me, are racks and racks of colorful, lovely delights, some shiny, some sparkly, some ruffly. Handbags and shoes to my right, jewelry to my left. My pulse quickens, and I feel a rush of excitement. This is the first moment in this entire day I have felt happy to be out of bed. Deep breath, Self. Get a grip.

I peruse the racks with DP, trying to figure out what she likes so I can pick out some stuff for her to try on. Five minutes or so pass, so far, so good. Then a purple dress catches my eye. A designer dress, my favorite color…I’ll just have a closer look. Oh my the fabric feels wonderful. Trying it on is free, right? Look at that. A blouse with chiffon ruffles! I’ll just try that on too. I think you can all see where this is going. One piece leads to another and I end up in the dressing room with an arm load of things to try on.

DP and I try on all our items, laugh at some of them, discuss them in front of the mirror (had there been an 80s tune playing in the background it could have been a movie montage) and finally we put our own clothes back on and decide what we are going to purchase.

I am at the checkout counter, five items in hand. All of them are on sale, I tell myself, how much can it really be? I get an extra discount for being a “preferred” customer, which is swell. I watch the items ring up, and DP looks at me in her non-judgmental but obviously disappointed way. I try not to make eye contact with her, I am in the thrall of buying.

$200 later, alone in the car with my purchases, the shame begins to creep up on me. Since it was my first time in a store since admitting my problem, and I haven’t even been to a meeting yet, I am going to give myself a pass. DP did talk me into returning one dress, which is something I have NEVER done, so that’s a step in the right direction, isn’t it?

Stay tuned...

Sit back, pour yourself some wine and get to know my story.

“PROCEED TO CHECKOUT” Three little, seemingly benign words. To most people, a means to an end. To me, like crack for the soul. A panacea for all that ails me. A thrill, a dirty little secret, all my own. This is the story of my personal journey into the mall and back out again. At times funny, at times sad, always difficult.

Indulgent and self-destructive. Not words that most people would use when describing me. The most often used words include smart, fun, strong, classy and beautiful (yes, I took a poll of people who know me). If you met me, you’d think it’s pretty good to be me. Which, big picture, it really is. But no matter how great my life is on the whole, like everyone else, I have a bête noir. Compulsive shopping is my drug of choice these days. There are no television programs for this kind of problem, no Intervention, no Celebrity Shopaholic Rehab with Dr. Drew (oh but that there were! *sigh* Dr. Drew!) no Dr. Phil House for overspenders. I realize that in the eyes of many this doesn’t seem like a “real” problem, I am not going to jail for it, and I am certainly not going to die from blowing thousands of dollars on handbags. However, in my life and in the lives of others at Debtaholics Anonymous, it is a VERY real problem.

Alcoholics drink to forget, crackheads hit the pipe, I hit the mall. Or, if it’s odd hours and I can’t sleep, the internet. The rush of finding something I didn’t know existed before and my concurrent, immediate need for said item is euphoric.

In my coming posts, I will look back through my past to see where this started, how it started, hopefully WHY it started, and I will chronicle my current attempt to fill my life with meaning instead of with stuff. I hope you will join me, as it should be, if nothing else, a pretty entertaining trip!