This I Believe: Retail Therapy Is Much More Effective Than Your Shrink
So- I’ve had a rough life so far, and by rough I mean completely unfortunate. After two broken feet, two knee surgeries, countless hours on crutches, an abusive boyfriend and the realization that my family is completely dysfunctional, there is only one thing that can make me feel amazing: Shopping, and it doesn’t help that I’m a self-proclaimed shop-a-holic. It’s that feeling when you just bought a really hot new outfit and you can’t wait to wear it out so everyone tells you how good you look that brings happiness to your day. The fact that you are buying cute things and are going to look amazing completely drowns out the fact that you are burning a hole in your pocket. But what satisfaction do you get from your shrink, who has “I don’t care” written all over his face during your session while you ramble on about your insecurities?
All of the misfortunes I’ve encountered throughout my eighteen years in this world have provided me with valuable information. Sure, everyone needs someone to listen to their problems, but the true cure to an unfortunate situation is a trip to the mall. At the mall there are hundreds of stores and hundreds of dollars to be spent, all in favor of healing depression. Besides, the idea that you are buying super-awesome-incredibly cute clothes that are going to make your friends drool over the fact that they don’t have them is enough to turn anyone’s frown upside down. I’d gain a lot more out of an excellent shopping trip than a trip to an office where I sit in a chair and tell some complete stranger how sad I am as he sits in his chair, staring at a wall, paying no attention whatsoever while twirling his pen in his fingers. I know retail therapy works. I’ve recreated the scene of every obstacle I’ve encountered in my life, and often remember my mom saying, “Do you want to go shopping?” And at first, its like, “No, I’m too depressed to go shopping”, but I go anyways. Upon return, I have many new purchases and look and feel like a million bucks with a thousand-watt smile stretched across my face.
I’ll never forget my “emergency” credit card. I was supposed to use it in case I was stranded in a snow storm with my car on the side of the road and I needed to call a tow truck to tow me home, or if I absolutely positively had to put gas in my car at that very moment. And I did use it for emergency situations, like when I’m having a bad day and my favorite store has a really cute new pair of jeans and they only have one pair left and they just happen to be my size. Now, that is an emergency. It wasn’t long after that when I started having more and more bad days and the “emergency” credit card turned into a credit card for regular use. Lucky for me, my shopping addiction is genetic and I didn’t get in trouble for buying things because my mom totally agreed that my findings were attractive, which is a confidence booster you know, knowing that I have good taste in clothes.
The Jimmy Choo’s and Manolo Blahnik’s, the Prada’s, Chanel’s, Dior’s, the True Religions, the Abercrombie’s, the BCBG’s, Lacoste’s, Grail’s, the Louis Vuittons and the Marc Jacobs’s, they all catch my eye and I go from want to need in less than sixty seconds. I mean, how amazing does it feel when you just bought those $300 Christian Louboutin wedges on sale for $250? Sure, they are still expensive but it’s a great deal for Christian Louboutin shoes, and well, you want them and you know all of your friends will be jealous that you got such a fabulous deal on a hot pair of shoes when they didn’t. It’s instant happiness!
Instead of spending $500 an hour to pour your heart out to your shrink, whom at this point is passed out sideways in his chair, drool seeping from mouth after listening to you complain for the past hour- why not take that $500 and go buy yourself a nice fancy Coach bag to boost your spirits until you spot your next frivolous purchase. OR you could just go both shopping and to your shrink and completely avoid the fact that you are subjecting yourself to massive debt. But you don’t really mind because at least you’ll look cute while the bank repossesses your house, therefore reinforcing the fact that retail therapy is much more effective than your shrink.
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