Overthinking My Shopping Addiction

Social-anxiety-driven shopping, and what I'm doing to quit.

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I blame it on the shellsuits.

I actually blame quite a lot of things on shellsuits, actually, but I can pretty much draw a direct line between my 12-year-old self, and her desperate need to look exactly the same as everyone else in her class by wearing a highly-flammable polyester tracksuit, and my current financial situation.

The line would be my debt. It would get gradually bigger the closer it got to my current self, and this is a metaphor that isn’t really working out the way I thought it would, so let’s leave it there and get back to the shellsuit…

My parents wouldn’t buy me the shellsuit: or, for that matter, the Reebok trainers I needed to go with the shellsuit, because that’s what Popular Kirsty and Even More Popular Gillian wore, and if I could somehow manage to exactly replicate every single thing these girls did (Like getting a perm, say), then I’d be just like them, and everyone would love me.

(And when everybody looooovesss me, I will never be looooonely…)