After years of compulsive shopping, my solution didn’t cost me a cent – mindfulness.
Have you seen the movie “Confessions of a Shopaholic”?
It’s a film about a typical girl who is obsessed with buying things, finds her Prince Charming and quits the bad habit of spending every cent on her credit cards.
As glamorous as the movies make it seem, I can tell you that being addicted to shopping is no way a fun experience.
I don’t suffer with depression.
Sure, I get miserable at times. But who doesn’t?
And let’s face it, over the last few years, my life has been so crap that anyone would feel depressed. But that’s not the same as being diagnosed with clinical depression, right?
So I got a shock last year, when a debt assessor visited to talk to me about why I couldn’t pay the electricity bill.
(Umm… because I haven’t got enough money. Duh! I could have told you that on the phone!)
And she looked at me and said, “I think you’re suffering from depression.”
There she was, this random stranger, telling me I need medical help. Looking at me and seeing a person who’s not normal. Excuse me?