She Strengthens

Breaking Free from the Shackles of Debt and Despair

As a child, I wasn’t afraid of monsters under my bed; I was terrified of debt collectors harassing my mom. I vowed to never put myself in that situation. But life had other plans. At 18, I was diagnosed with Severe Aplastic Anemia, a bone marrow failure disease that ravaged my body and drained my finances.

The Illusion of Control

When your body betrays you, and medical companies profit from your suffering, it’s easy to become consumed by a desire for control. I compensated for my loss of agency by chasing tangible proof of my power – money. I worked multiple jobs, including an unpaid internship, and monetized every waking hour. I became obsessed with making money, thinking that it was the only way to regain control over my life.

The False Sense of Security

During my treatment, I relied on the generosity of others to fund my recovery. Online fundraisers and donations poured in, providing a sense of security and validation. But this came at a cost – I felt silenced, unable to express my true feelings of depression, PTSD, and suicidal thoughts. I struggled to distinguish between genuine relationships and potential donors. Even now, I find myself drawn to financially secure individuals, hoping they’ll be able to save me if I relapse.

The Emotional Burden Tax

After entering remission, I found well-paying gigs and outearned my friends. But I also developed a habit of overcompensating, buying drinks and dinner for everyone, and apologizing excessively. I thought that by spending money, I could convince others to stick around. It was a costly mistake, both financially and emotionally.

Trauma Spending

I’ve learned to recognize my trauma splurges – purchases made to prevent panic attacks or depression spirals. I’ve wasted money on antibacterial soap, Ubers, and gift cards, trying to distract myself from the memories of my hospitalization. It’s a vicious cycle, saving like I’m living forever, but spending like I’m dying tomorrow.

Finding a Way Out

To manage my finances and emotions, I’ve developed a system. I work multiple cash gigs, save aggressively during happier months, and splurge during depressive periods. I’ve kept my housing costs low, paid off my student loans, and have a modest emergency fund. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start. I’m learning to break free from the shackles of debt and despair, one small step at a time.