The How and Why of Things

I was thinking this morning about the how and why behind my relationship with money. You know: How the hell have I found myself deep in debt not once but twice in the last 20-odd years? And why am I, in my mid-40s, anxious about doing things that people half my age seem to be able to do with barely a second thought?

Well, not to point fingers, but it has everything to do with how I grew up. My parents taught me absolutely nothing about ... well, anything. They didn't exactly have a great relationship, and they spent more time arguing about random crap (one night was spent on whether there was pulp in the orange juice) than paying much attention to my upbringing. As long as I was fed, dressed, and healthy, it was assumed I was OK. (This also explains why they had no idea that I suffered from problems with anxiety or depression.) My job was to help around the house and to go to school and bring home a good report card. What subjects I was taking, whether I had friends, or even whether I was happy were never asked.

No one stopped and explained to me the importance of saving. No one said, "This is the responsible way to use a credit card." I got no instruction on any of that. Everything I have learned about basic living I've had to figure out on my own. (Even the sex talk with my mother was a no-show.) But how could they teach me? No one taught them.

So it's no surprise that I feel like I don't know what the hell I'm doing most of the time. I actually don't know what I'm doing. It's not an act.

I recently posted over on Day in the Life that it seems to be my lot to do stuff on my own. And the companion of that is to learn to ask for help when necessary. (I hate asking for help. I hate looking like an idiot. It's an issue, I know.) Of course, the flip side of this is the sense of accomplishment I feel when I handle these things on my own.

I'm sure this time will be no different. It's going to be a big year for me.