Shopaholic to the Stars (Shopaholic #7)

Shopaholic to the Stars (Shopaholic #7) Page 54

That’s the lesson that stuck with me from the session yesterday. It’s not about giving up shopping. As soon as David said that, the whole thing made more sense to me.

“Well, wouldn’t it be healthier not to shop at all?” Suze demands. “I mean, shouldn’t we leave?”

Suze really doesn’t get it. But, then, she isn’t as tuned in to her inner mental landscape as I am.

“It’s actually a very bad idea to give up shopping altogether,” I explain. “You have to learn to exercise your control muscle. Being in here is like a workout for me.”

“Right.” Suze looks dubious. “So what happens next?”

“So, I’ll just make the purchases I need to, calmly and with meaning.”

I love that phrase. David kept saying it yesterday: “You need to learn to shop calmly and with meaning.”

“But you don’t need to buy anything,” objects Suze.

“Yes, I do! I need a book, actually. David told me to buy it. So.” I lead the way over to the cognitive-behavioral-therapy section and reach for a book titled Catching Thoughts: Your Introduction to CBT.

“This is what I do in my group,” I say importantly, pointing at the title. “Cognitive behavioral therapy. If I want to buy something and it’s not appropriate, I have to restructure my thoughts. I have to identify my cognitive errors and challenge them.”

“Wow.” For the first time, Suze looks genuinely impressed. “Is that hard?”

“No, it’s quite easy,” I say, flipping through the book. “I’ll get the audio version, too, so I can listen to it when I’m out jogging. And there are some other titles David said I should look at.”

I start scooping hardbacks into my basket. CBT Thought Diary, CBT for Spending Addiction, The Compulsive Spender’s Journal, Shopaholic: Break the Pattern … As I pile the books up, I feel a glow of virtue. David was right: I can break free of my old ways. There are some really cool pencils, too, matte black with slogans like Growth and Exhale. I’ll get a pack.

Suze is watching me, a bit nonplussed. “But, Bex, how is this different from normal shopping? Where’s the challenging or whatever it is?”

Oh, right. I’d forgotten about that, just for a moment.

“I was coming to that,” I say, a little severely. “You put the things in your basket and then you challenge yourself.”

I lift up the top book and stare at it intently. I’m actually a bit hazy about what I should do next, not that I’ll admit that to Suze.

“I need this book,” I say at last, in a sonorous voice. “This is my belief. The evidence for this belief is: David told me I should get it. The evidence against it is … none. So. I will buy it, calmly and with meaning. Amen.”

“Amen?” Suze gives a sudden giggle.

“That just slipped out,” I admit. “Anyway, wasn’t that cool? I’ve totally learned how to challenge myself.”

“Do the pencils now,” Suze says.

“OK.” I take the pencils out and focus on them. “I need these pencils. This is my belief. The evidence for this belief is: Pencils are always useful. The evidence against is—”

I stop dead as a thought strikes me. I’ve already bought a pack of these pencils, haven’t I? The first day I came here. What did I do with them?

“The evidence against,” I continue triumphantly, “is that I’ve already got some! So I’m going to put them back!”

With a flourish, I put the pack of pencils back on the shelf. “You see? I’m controlling myself. I’m a completely different person. Impressed?”

“Well, OK. But what about all those books?” Suze nods at my basket. “Surely you don’t need so many.”

Hasn’t she been listening to anything I’ve been saying?

“Of course I need them,” I say as patiently as I can. “They’re essential for my progress. I’m going to buy them calmly and with meaning.” I reach for a gorgeous notepad. “I’m going to buy this calmly and with meaning too. I can keep my dream journal in it. Everyone should keep a dream journal, did you know that?”

Suze still looks dissatisfied as I put it in my basket. “All right, so suppose you do shop too much,” she says. “What do you do then?”

“Then you use different techniques,” I explain. “Like tapping.”

“What’s tapping?”

“Oh, it’s brilliant,” I say enthusiastically. “You tap your face and chin and stuff, and you say mantras, and it frees your meridians and cures you.”