Hole in My Pocket

Originally posted on Themestream
In 1990, I got my first credit card.

It wasn’t much, just a card a $750 limit. I applied for it in the basement of the Student Union at college. If you’ve ever been on a college campus, especially in the past 10 years, you’ve probably seen them. During special weekends or events, there would be a table, or a booth, decorated with all kinds of gifts. The day I applied, they were giving away sunglasses. Not long after, my credit card arrived in the mail. I think I had it for about 15 hours before I went to break it in.
That December, I bought Christmas presents. I bought the standard stuff I’d always bought for my family, and bought myself what I wanted. My card was half full, but I was still making the payments -- usually, only the minimum payment. The following spring, I really did it. Upset because I wasn’t going off to the Bahamas or Cozumel like the rest of my friends, I went shopping.

Man, did I go shopping!

In 1993, I got married. I was still living in my college town. Since this place only existed because of the college, during the summer, there were no jobs. I spent the summer at home, trying to keep myself busy. We survived on my husband’s minimum wage, part-time job. He also applied for and got a credit card. Between his card and mine, we had enough to live. I finally found a job in August of that year, just in time for the back-to-school rush. I took the semester off then, and he finished up his degree. There were weeks we wouldn’t have eaten if not for the generosity of friends and strangers.

In 1995, I graduated from college. My husband and I separated. Strangely enough, one of our problems was financial. I spent that summer living in a friend’s apartment, trying to figure out if my marriage was worth another shot, and trying to decide what I wanted to be when I grew up. During that summer, I applied for and got a few more credit cards. My husband moved into an apartment where he shared a kitchen, laundry facilities and utility and phone bills with three others.

I took out a loan to pay off some of my debts, so I could start off fresh. That money was supposed to go toward my student loan, my credit cards, and my own apartment. When my husband had to move out of his apartment, he still owed money for rent. I used part of my loan to bail him out. A few weeks later, I used more of that loan to put down a deposit on an apartment and a car we couldn’t afford. A few months later, we found out the electric and phone bills from his summer apartment were in his name.

My credit card bills went unpaid.

In 1996, we split up for good. My financial situation hadn’t improved. If anything, it had gotten worse. I now had minimum payments that exceeded my take-home pay. Before we split, we had tried to go through credit counseling. We couldn’t keep up those payments, and had to drop out of the program. He moved in with his parents, and I stayed in our apartment and kept our car. Most of the bills were in my name.
In 1997, I filed bankruptcy.

People with ADD are almost notorious for financial problems. Many of us have owed thousands of dollars at different points in our lives, due to poor financial management, spotty employment histories, or failed entrepreneurial efforts.

I filed chapter 7, wiping the slate clean. In the time between having all those debts and having very few, I learned how to handle my money. It wasn’t exactly positive, not something I’d recommend to anyone, but certainly not something I’d warn against. When I decided to file, I realized that I had no other options. I was working 40 hours a week, making just enough to cover basic necessities, like food and housing. There was no extra money for creditors.

I moved out of my apartment, packing up my things and sneaking out. I had the means to hire movers – or rather, my mother did – so I didn’t have to try and move my things myself. A month after I moved out, I informed my ex that if he wanted to keep his credit in tact, he needed to get the car, or it would be repossessed.

My bankruptcy was discharged in February of 1998. In May of 1998, I was able to purchase a car. A co-worker of mine also filed that year, discharged in January of 1998. She just purchased a house a few months ago.

How can you avoid getting into this spot?

Aside from turning into Charles Schwab, I couldn’t tell you. I did make a few changes on my own, however, to maintain some sort of financial stability. When I go into a store, I allow time for browsing and putting things back. I’ve tried taking a list with me, and I’ve rarely been able to follow it. Having a specific amount of money available to spend helped. Carrying a calculator with me also helped.

Find a way to balance your checkbook. The standard balancing, knowing exactly how much is in there at every moment did not work well for me. I have developed another method that I can maintain. As a result, I’ve not had nearly as much difficulty managing my money.

Round up withdrawals, and round down deposits. If I write a check for $55.01, I round that up to $56.00. If I deposit a check worth $89.99, I round it down to $89. Early on, that provided a good cushion for me, while I tried to manage my money more effectively.

Before you have to go to the credit counselors, see about hiring an accountant to manage your money. Perhaps find an ADD coach instead, to help you understand how you handle your money.

Financial health is quite possible. It’s not easy, but it’s possible.
For more Orderly Chaos – Click the graphic at the top of the article, or click here!
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Learn More About It
About Bankruptcy – From the American Bankruptcy Institute
Getting Control – Also from the American Bankruptcy Institute
A Personal Trainer for Your Brain – Feature article from ADD on About