My own personal recession digs deep. In many ways I cannot take a leap as I would if I had heaps of money. How I would love to buy all sorts of goodies and never deny myself anything even if I feel like a goody two shoes with brand new shoes and a whole new wardrobe.
It is truly awful to not be able to surf the financial wave and rave about all my special toys and presents to myself. If I indulge my love of expensive chocolate, the bitter aftertaste of having spent too much money stings like lemon juice. It is hard not being able to rustle up five or ten dollars and having to put up with an empty wallet.
Life seems hollow with an empty pocket, no matter what time of year it is. It is horrible having to count my pennies, going crackers at Christmas time for not being able to afford to buy everyone near and dear to me the Christmas presents they so richly deserve. This is despite the special Christmas account I opened with the best of intentions at the start of the year.
Yes, a recession makes me much more reserved, knowing I can't reach out to people in times of need. With a shrinking bank account I can only focus on myself and my own needs instead of extending myself and doing good deeds towards others. My life is limited. I often have to take desperate measures to raise money and be open to every boring job. Every dollar counts, but doesn't amount to much.
I can no longer, particularly on a disability pension, give myself special pleasures or be a woman of leisure. Instead I have to slum it either in the library or in my own kitchen eating tasteless two minute noodles instead of having oodles of money.
Another problem I have had in the past and which was a huge burden on me was supporting penniless boyfriends, also on disability pensions, who even at the best of times couldn't afford to buy me a coffee. Instead of getting toffee-nosed at them I would often go without, go to a restaurant and drink water while shouting them a real meal, feeling even hungrier for money the more I would watch them eat.
The feeling was so bad. I felt beat.
One boyfriend used to jokingly say 'Don't spend all your money on me honey,' but I still felt milked by him. I had to go cold turkey on many things while I would buy him coffee, cigarettes and even pay for petrol and parking meters. While being milked I could only dream of him buying me silk lingerie and wrapping me up like a princess rather than submitting me to the rough and tumble of plain old sheets.
How I wish I could be given a handout and make easy money. How I wish I could throw money around everywhere I go, instead of being thrown around by huge bills, high interest and deep debt, all while never winning a bet.
Yet I feel myself learning the value of money the more I yearn for the dollar. I also like doing things that don't cost money, such as walking in the park, or window shopping while resisting the temptation of buying. In many ways it makes me feel stronger to make my money last longer, rather than constantly taking everything around me and being lured by the dollar, and being easy fodder.
Isabella Fels is a Melbourne poet and writer. She has been published in various publications including Positive Words, The Big Issue and The Record.
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