A ten thousand dollar cruise to Europe, and it’s leaving next week.
That happened a couple of years ago. I impulsively purchased a $10,000 cruise. Why? Because my OCD was making me anxious and buying things calms me down. I guess that’s just my life with OCD—where irrational thoughts mingle and fall in love with compulsive spending.
I don’t think I’m a compulsive shopper or have monomania (I didn’t even know that was a word), but I think that buying stuff is my outlet; it’s my way of getting endorphins running through my brain when my OCD’s on the frits. Scientifically, it’s how I get my neurotransmitters in order.
Some people exercise. Some meditate. I spend money—a lot of it.
Let me paint you a picture. Here are a few things I’ve bought over the years. (I’m also totally going to include a snippet of rationale to try and justify the purchase.)
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$10,000 Cruise to Europe: Amsterdam, Copenhagen, and St. Petersburg. Those were just three of the places I was oh so close to visiting. This $10,000 cruise was going to be great. It was a week and a half of everything I love. Travel’s my medicine, so I said, “Hey, why not?” If you’re wondering where the ridiculous price tag comes from, hear me out: I get really motion sick. Ask anyone. So, if I were going on a cruise, I’d need a balcony because apparently, that helps. I also booked the cruise a week before departure (from London, England), so I’m sure the price was spiked. My rationale? Travel makes me happy.
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A Watch: I’ve always liked watches, so one day when I was feeling particularly OCD-y, I bought one—a costly one. My rationale? It was an investment that would hold its value.
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A Ton of Clothes: I mean, an absurd amount of clothes. Hundreds upon hundreds of different items. Shirts. Jeans. Hats. You name it, and it’s been in my closet. My rationale? I can’t justify these purchases even if I wanted to.
To me, compulsive spending is the worst part of my OCD. Yeah, OCD has made driving next to impossible, destroyed friendships, and caused me to miss holidays with the fam. But in my opinion, dropping thousands of dollars on things I don’t even remotely need takes the cake. Granted, I return 90% of the things I buy, but it’s still a problem. All it takes is one irrational thought to pop into my head, and just like that, thousands of dollars are out the door.
Can anyone relate?
How I Curb My Compulsive Spending
If I’m being honest, spending is my way of feeling better (until I receive the item and look at my bank account). That said, I’ve developed some strategies to help me curb some of the OCD-induced compulsive spending.
I Got Rid of Most of My Credit Cards
I used to have a ton of them. Not necessarily so I had more “money” to spend, but because I was trying to build my credit. When I got my first couple of credit cards, compulsive spending wasn’t an issue. So, my accumulation of credit was a conscious step as I moved into adulthood.
That changed. Before long, I had way too many credit cards—and way too high of a credit limit. So, after a lot of dumb purchases, I got rid of most of my credit cards. I only have one now, and the credit limit isn’t absurdly high.
I’m Setting Long-Term Goals
I love to travel. Traveling costs money. If I want to travel, I have to save my money. Right? Right. This strategy is relatively simple: I plan where I want to go next, budget for it, and then write it down someplace where I’ll always see it. Like on the refrigerator.
Then, when I have the urge to purchase something, I look at the overall price, subtract the potential purchase, and then figure out how long it would take me to earn that back. Most of the time—especially with more significant purchases—the thought of having to work another month to go on my next adventure is enough to quell my spending urges.
I’m Rewarding Myself
This sounds counterintuitive, but hear me out. If I can go a set amount of days without buying something I don’t need, I, well, buy something. Nothing crazy—no watches or vacations—but just enough to get my fix. I liken this to a cheat meal.
I wouldn’t need this in a perfect world, but for now, it’s helping, and my bank account says thank you.
Again, I don’t think I’m addicted to shopping. I think I’m addicted to being happy; addicted to having that feeling—or lack thereof of nothing—when I’m not obsessing over irrational thoughts. The compulsive spending has just been the price I’ve paid (pun intended) to feel better.