I had a revelation the other day that whenever I am stressed about things – mainly financial things – I read books on how to save money and live simply by a bucket. I read old ones and seek out inexpensive or free new ones. I once found a blog and read it so much, the owner actually blocked me. I guess they thought my IP was a bot, because I kept opening post after post, reading them all.
The odd thing about this mechanism is that none of these books can teach me anything new. Sometimes I stumble upon a tip that I haven’t heard before. But it hasn’t happened in a while. I’m at a point where I’m considering writing a book like that of my own. Even though I still have debt, I still have bills that I’m behind on, and I don’t have full control over my own money – as in, literally, sometimes things are out of my control, and money is spent not by me, not on things I believe it should be spent on.
That doesn’t negate the fact that I know a lot about saving money and spending it wisely, though.
About a year ago I would have ruefully accepted the label ‘spendthrift’, but recently I had another realisation – I am not it. I am not one. I am not a spendthrift. I know that no one in my life would agree with that, but then again no one is living my life but me. I have made irresponsible financial decisions, but that was hypomania. “Core” me, stable me is different. Entirely. She cuts off every bill and considers every expense. Sometimes to the point of exhaustion, I might add. She’d fixate on things so much, she’d just buy nothing in the end. But I always have to fight and contest the term “spender”. It is such an easy – and infinite – way to minimise my financial turmoil and invalidate my knowledge. If I mention a loan payment, I would immediately get a reply that I’m thoughtless with money.
Bitch, I am literally insane.
But loan payments don’t grind my gears as much as, say, an electricity bill commentary does. Because one can’t fault me for irresponsible electricity usage. I turn off the lights, I unplug the pluggable, I use as little artificial light as possible to the point of moving around in the darkness. I’m sensitive to light, so it’s fine. I always play with fridge temps (within safety levels of course), and I am not averse to washing my laundry on cold. I even turn off the second monitor periodically and only use one. I guess the only “luxury” I allow myself is the AC, but when the temps outside are 40C, one could argue that it’s a necessity.
Anyway, so maybe I will write that book. For now, though, I have this blog, and a renewed, though shy, desire to upkeep it and share what I write.