Letting go of the 'FoMo' to earn more dough

Have you ever received a text like the one above from a friend? And instead of feeling excited, you feel worried instead? It shouldn't be like that, but unfortunately that's what living with debt does to a person. 

So, here's a story all about how my life got 'flipped, turned upside down'. I'd like to take a minute, so just sit right there, and I'll tell you how I got into this debt nightmare. 

                                                ________________________

At this point in my late twenties, I often cast my mind back to the care-free, sepia days of being a student. And I honestly think I had a better lifestyle then. With reckless disregard, I frittered money away on drinking, excessive eating out, building a CD collection and of course, getting to and from university with First Bus Greater Glasgow (who are moolah-stealing bastards by the way). It was a simpler life; an easier time where I had no real responsibilities to speak of. 

Then after you graduate, you get your first proper job and that's when the real world hits you in the face with an almighty 'thwack'. Suddenly, a wild council tax bill appears (and it wants to battle).

Amy used 'Go Away'... but it was unsuccessful.

If there's one thing I have been historically awful at, it is managing my money, ("a real big spender" if you will). It all started when I was 18 and I discovered something amazing which I became eligible for, called 'CREDIT'. It was basically like receiving FREE MONEY. And I thought this was the coolest thing since sliced bread. As someone who wasn't earning very much, I found out to my sheer delight that I could order items such as clothes, and not have to pay for them until later!

Of course, after a wee while of living the high life and opening a few of these credit accounts, a slow, quiet dread started to creep in. A dread that seeps into your heart and weighs heavy on the mind; you're over-committed, having become used to a lifestyle above your means. It's a lifestyle you try to maintain, yet with every passing month you become more and more of a slave to each repayment. I've probably been living with this feeling everyday since I was about 20. Suddenly, free money isn't so fun, especially when you're suddenly having to give more back...

I could go into the argument of better financial education in schools (which of course, would be a good thing) or talk about irresponsible lending but if I'm being honest, I got into debt through a combination of stupidity and burying my head in the sand - there is no-one but myself to blame.

The other thing which has made things slightly more difficult (but that I wouldn't change for the world) is the wealth of friends I have been lucky to gain over the years. As a self-proclaimed social animal, I am always game for meeting up with my friends, enjoying new experiences and in general, having fun (that's what life is all about at the end of the day, right?!) Couple that with omnipresent 'FoMo' (or for you uncool kids, the fear of missing out) and you have the recipe for a hugely fulfilling social life. 

However, like a cake without the baking powder, this perfect plan is usually missing one key ingredient - money. And as I've learnt over the years, it's hard to have fun without money. 

Funding all of these social excursions is not only near-impossible, but it has actually become pressurising at times. To avoid saying 'No', I've often gone overdrawn by hundreds of pounds, or used my credit card, piling myself further into debt rather than disappointing people (or if I'm being honest, missing out and disappointing myself). I would be lying if I said it hadn't been crippling at times - and even though it shouldn't matter if you can't make an outing with friends, it really does to me, anyway. 

There have genuinely been incidences in the past where I've come up with bullshit excuses to not meet up with friends when I have received texts like the one above - simply because I haven't been able to afford it. Instead of being upfront, I have hidden behind phantom 'flu-like symptoms', phony family commitments and fabricated travel disasters (except incidences caused by First Bus, which were always unanimously genuine). Seriously, if you ever need a made-up excuse, I've got a ream of them.

                                                _________________________

This year, I've made a real conscious effort to get my financial circumstances sorted and pay off my debts. Overnight, I have transformed from Shirley Bassey, dripping in gold to Martin Lewis, pinching every penny (I'm actually obsessed with Martin Lewis right now, which I'm sure I'll bring up again at some point). By the end of the year, if all goes to plan, I will be debt free for the first time in ten years - and if I do say so myself, that is an incredibly exciting and relieving thought.

However, as the wise rice guy, Uncle Ben said: "With great power, comes great... sacrifice... or was it responsibility?" Never mind. What I mean to say is that with all great schemes, there is usually a bit of give and take, and the one fly in this particular ointment is the complete cancellation of my social life this year. I've done a Limmy - I am cancelled. I have cancelled myself.

Brunches, lunches, dinners, breakfasts, weekends away, holidays, theatre, cinema, road trips - you name it, it's not happening. Don't get me wrong, I'm bored of MYSELF already and it's only February. The reduction in disposable income is killing me, but oh my goodness, it's going to be so worth it in the long run.

All this leaves just one problem, which is how to say this to my friends without feeling overwhelmed with embarrassment. After all, this is not the easiest thing to admit. I guess if I wanted to say anything to my friends, it would be that if you want to see me, I would love to see you. All I ask is that we do things together that won't break the bank, e.g:

• A walk (because GOD KNOWS I need the exercise)
• A coffee (because I can spend a couple of quid on a latte, plus earn some serious Costa points)
• Free attractions (let's make the most of Glasgow's free culture scene).

And of course, please keep inviting me to things, even if I decline. (I might surprise you once in a while).

If you read all the way down to here, please take a medal on your way out (chocolate of course, I'm not made of money). And if you are in a similar position, or you have a friend who are doing the same thing, I would be interested to hear your thoughts or, rather your coping mechanisms on having a social life on a shoestring budget (as long as it doesn't involve selling pictures of my feet, that is not my scene I'm afraid).