Confessions of a shopaholic

So it's about time I confessed my secret. I'm a shopaholic. Yes, they exist in real-life too.

I suppose it helps that I am still a student, so don't have to work to subsidise this rather embarrassing habit. I also happen to have very kind parents who are willing to provide for a daughter's happiness.

I should start at the beginning. It has taken me 3 years to admit that I have a shopping problem. Since the denial and delusion ended, I have even managed to trace it back to when it began - 3 years ago. The most important thing I should mention though, is that I don't shop. I do retail therapy. There is a difference.

Shopping is when you just go and buy new things and that's the end of it, while retail therapy has a positive, long-lasting psychological impact. Well long-lasting until the next time you need some much needed therapy. My friends have always said that I need to control this addiction, but I never really saw it as addiction. It was simply a way of feeling better.

When I shop I just feel so much better. And the worse I feel, the more I shop. The realisation that I need to stop occurred this week, when my parents got my credit card bill. It seems that I've managed to spend, erm, £4000 in the past 2 months. I tried to work out where the money had gone.

Sure, I ate out a few times in fancy restaurants (the food in halls is only edible on rare occasions), but there was no other big expenditure I could think of. Then I had a look at the bill. It seems that the rest of it was spent in retail stores, from the likes of Primark to Prada. I obviously treated myself a bit too well this term.

So I have decided that I need to cut down on shopping. I will try to wear more of the stuff I have rather than delving into stores for a 'must-have' pair of jeans, which, it is likely, is an 'already-have' pair of jeans.

But.. it's Christmas-time!

I'll start next year.