I did a kind of scary thing last night, and that was to take a really good look at the mess that is not my family’s budget.
That is to say, I faced the fact that I don’t have a functional budget, and I reached out for help.
I’m scared, but also already a little bit less scared. I’m embarrassed, but also a little bit less embarrassed.
I know people have these problems, and I know they do not talk about them. It’s hard to know when it’s too personal, and when it’s OK to say, “Hey, I have this problem. Do you? You do? Oh, hey, there’s someone who can help us! Let’s go fix this.”
I’m going to stick my arm up in the air and risk crossing the “TMI” line.
I don’t have a budget. I kind of know what I should be doing, but there are so many fears in my way preventing me from figuring out how to do those things.
What if X? What if Y? What if Z, A, E, L, X, K, M, F, and P???
I’m scared, but there is so much stress bound up in this that I can’t avoid it any more. I can’t pretend I can fix it myself any more. I want my life back. I need to be able to focus on fixing other things.
I’m scrd. And terrfd.