How It Starts

The last couple of days have been less than stellar. You know how it goes... you start to feel stronger and more able to cope with life's logistics. You spend some time (in my case, ably "advised" by parents) going over the financial train wreck once known as Your Budget. It's never a cheerful prospect, and for someone separated from her bread-winner husband just on 12 months (a bread-winner who is gleefully gorging on all his own damn bread now thank you very much), it really hurts. When we split, the two main debts Mr Ex and I had were split down the middle, with me taking on the $23,000 personal loan and him taking on the $19,000 car loan. Then, in those early heady days of post-marriage possibility, I was still working fulltime. I was living with my parents, splitting rent and bills, but still with a solid support base if and when required. He was moving out on his own, and the decision to do so had been thrust upon him, so I cut him some financial slack. He doesn't pay child support for the three animals we have, I have paid for his private health insurance since the split, and a couple of weeks ago he flew across the country on vacation paid for by his family. Bitter much? Ha!

Now, a year and a breakdown later, the repayments on the loan are about 1/3 of my total earnings. I've had to cancel my health insurance and gym membership. I can't declare bankruptcy without the loan defaulting to Mr Ex, which would painfully and permanently put an end to the amicable divorce. On top of this, Mr Ex's sister generously gave him her as-new laptop computer, so he "gave" me back the rental PC we had signed up for, along with the $100 a month payment. I found out that the rental contract can't be cancelled and to buy it out will cost $1500 (more than a new PC is worth), so I am stuck paying the $100 a month til Feb 2010.

I don't know why I'm even re-living this, or sharing it. I suppose this is a space for venting, and I do need to vent about the roiling fury that simmers in my stomach when I think about my finances, which are currently sitting on death row with no hope for a pardon. I got myself into this, don't get me wrong. I know that the BPD-fuelled spending, and general lack of budgeting, over the last 10 years have created a pit of debt that I deserve to inhabit. It's just that my day-to-day living is so damn pathetic and dismal (compared to the whirlwind of fancypants mania spending), and this New Deal budget my folks and I have worked out basically means I have to not buy coffee, lunch, magazines or food - ever. And the one outing I have per week, tenpin bowling, is in serious danger of being taken away. I literally can barely afford to survive. My food and rent and bills are subsidised by my family, only slightly but enough to make me feel unworthy and invalid. Ah, the catch cry of the Borderline...

I am trying to stay focused on the reasons for the belt-tightening, which are that I am dealing with a serious mental illness and therefore am only able to work part-time. The fact that I have a great job, and can function pretty well there, are things to be proud of. So what if I have to live like a pauper for the next five years? One day I will be free and clear of this stupid personal loan, and free of other debts because I won't qualify for any credit until hell freezes over. I am trying to focus on the things that don't need money, the important parts of my life that I love and adore which don't cost a cent (thanks Michelle!).

It scared me, this week, to feel derailed again and to lose the early glow of great-job-happiness. My favourite saying at the moment is "there is no recovery without relapse", and these less-than-stellar times will test my mental health. Today, my day off, I watched Buffy and slept. In a way, this was kind of the last straw. I had to get the Buffy videos out of the local library as my DVD-by-mail monthly rental plan is another casualty of the New Deal. Luckily, my ancient VCR still works...