Scarcity Fears and the New Year

This isn't a New Year's resolutions post.  Well maybe it is but I don't want to call it that.  This is my processing of my life, and you get to witness it through my writing.  I've thought about many of these ideas and moments for so long that I don't remember if I blogged about them or not.  So there may be repeats from previous posts, but fuck it, I do what I want with my blog.

I don't recall a time in my life where I ever felt I was taken care of and that my future needs would be met.  Even in moments such as where I'm at right now; bills paid, food in the fridge, clothed, warm and safe, the future voice of "But what if something bad happens?" looms in the distance.  Though it's nowhere near as bad as it used to be, I still frequently have to go through the hierarchy of needs with myself and get reminded that I'm OK for this moment.  

Up until my parents divorced when I was 15, my needs were met.  My father was a pastor, and didn't make much, but he'd hustle on the side selling cars and houses, so I never went without the basics.  He was also insanely frugal, and in his own scarcity fears, projected onto the rest of us.  At a young age I can remember him ranting about money, talking doom and gloom as if we'd be on the street any moment.  As a young teen I did everything I could to give the appearance that we were decently middle class, though in reality I'm sure we were on the low end.  

When my parents divorced I lived with my mother and youngest brother in South Minneapolis.  My mother did have a job but it wasn't much.  We lived on cream of chicken soup and noodles for  years.  To this day I can't stand a cream sauce.  You could take me to the finest restaurant in town but if cream sauce was served I'll only taste being poor.  Now whether my mother was too prideful to go to a food shelf or just didn't know, there wasn't much food around.  No new school clothes, no extra curricular activities and for a few years no Christmas presents.  The thrifty days of when my parents were together now looked like pure extravagance.  Instead of looking at this as a moment in time, my brain went into survival mode and is struggling to break away from this way of thinking.  

I'm sure many will say it's a great life skill that I can now hustle like a mother fucker.  I am empowered by this as I do know and believe I will survive.  The flip side is living in a near continual state of anxiety that the other shoe will drop and that I should be on alert at all times.  Once I bought 10 t-shirts that were on sale instead of the pretty but more expensive sweater I adored.  My thought was that if there was a war that I'd need those t-shirts in case I had to do manual labor.  Our country was not in a threat of war at that time yet I was somehow convinced I was about to be Rosie the Riveter.  

For all my scarcity fears you'd think I'd have loads saved and be a coupon clipping maniac.  I'm not.  I do spend rather freely but do not always make wise decisions.  Although I'm known for my love of shoes, I actually am more of a clothes hoarder.  Every year I give away bags full of what's not being worn only to fill my closet again.  I feel guilt about giving away things I never wore, and the carelessness of spending that way, and I feel guilt about buying more.  I'll leave food in the fridge that is about to go bad until I can replace it with something else because the sight of an almost empty fridge scares me.  I have to stop myself when leftovers from meetings are put in the break room and ask if I'm hungry or just fearful of not having enough, before I dash to gobble up some cold piece of crap from hours before.  

One of my life goals since my father's death has been to not be like him, and one specific way is his fear of not having enough money, and spending like a miser.  But as much as I'd love to max out some credit cards and fly around the world, I need to balance that with facts and reason.  It's all such a balancing act.  Life your best life!  Treat yo self!  You don't have enough in your 401K and will live in a ditch when you're 90!  I want the coming year to be different.  I want to face these fears with a healthy balance of living a big life and making good choices.  

I really don't have a great way to tie this up.  I'm looking out at my porch at my bike which has sat in the same spot for a year and a half.  I should have brought it in last winter, but instead stared at it with the snow coming down, shaming myself that it's rusting.  I remain immobile.  I'm thinking about the shirt I bought online this morning and how I sorted the price low to high and was price focused and not want/need focused. I'm looking at the pink Christmas cards I bought on clearance and smiling with delight.