My Brain on Debt

Debt is a migraine. It’s multi-sensory; it’s overpowering. It takes over your entire life.

Debt is always there. It’s like a parasite, burrowing its way into your brain. You can be going about your day as normal trying to ignore it, laughing with friends, working. And then suddenly you can’t breathe, your heart is palpitating and your mouth is dry, because it makes itself known again.

Debt is when your car’s fuel tank dips below a quarter and you’re wondering how you’re going to get to work for the rest of the week. Debt is eating pasta with melted butter for nine days in a row. Debt is relying on local charities to keep ourselves fed. Debt is never-ending panic. Debt is a swamp that you’re trying to wade through but keep getting pulled back.

Debt is shame, shame that creeps over your entire body. Debt is the failure to look after your family properly. Debt is embarrassing. Debt is waking up in cold sweats because you don’t know what else you’re going to do.

Debt is not having a winter coat and having to make up excuses when your co-workers ask you where your coat is. I was in a rush and I left it at home. Debt is doing laundry only once every two weeks because you can’t afford the electric to do it more often.

Debt is suffocation.

Debt is googling: ‘what happens to money owed when I die?’ because there doesn’t seem to be any other way out. No escape.

Debt happened to me in a chain of events, like a snowball gathering momentum and getting bigger and bigger as it rolls down the hill, not caring about the damage it does on the way down.

My car died - I needed a loan for a new one, and as a community carer and the only driver in the household it was necessary.

My partner became too ill to work and has been refused benefits three times on the last count. I needed to pay her debt off to enable her to stop working. Another loan.

I’m a healthcare support worker - a notoriously low paid job. Looking after two of us and the dog. I reached my overdraft limit. I worked 70+ hours a week in two jobs until the Covid-19 pandemic made it too unsafe for the people I cared for, for me to work more than one job. I got a credit card. My car needed servicing. I got another credit card.

We couldn’t afford the flat we were renting from a slum landlord. We moved in with kind friends. Landlord demanded extra money for removal of furniture and items that were already in the flat when we moved in. I am exhausted and didn’t have the energy it takes to argue. I borrowed more in order to pay him.

The worst thing is that although the circumstances are hard, I know that this chain of events was entirely my own fault. This is all on me.

And this is where I am. I can’t offer advice on how to get out of debt - I’m still there. I know times will get better. Losing the flat has allowed me to take a step in a better direction. And I have friends and family who have formed a support network around me.

Some days I want to die, because it feels like the only escape. Sometimes I need to be reminded to try and find joy in simple, ordinary things. Nature is free. Walking my dog is free. Meditating is free. Reading and writing are free. Laughing with my housemates is free. Stroking my girlfriend's hair is free.

Debt is a migraine. But I am determined to find my way to a cure.