How A Credit Junkie Broke The Credit Habit (And So Can You)

It started out innocently enough.  A little taste, a promise of never-ending good times and acceptance by my peers, and a tiny little price that I’d gladly pay.  As with any addiction, my credit card addiction began unexpectedly.

How it ended was stunning and horrifying all at once.

On my first day of college I was thrilled to see that I had mail.  Opening up the mailbox I found not a letter from my parents but two credit card applications.  Discover Card and Citibank, two names I’d heard of only vaguely, were promising me little pieces of plastic to help me make my life better.  No annual fee, low payments, and the underlying promise of being taken seriously as an adult.

They didn’t need to ask twice – both applications were in the mailbox before I left the dining hall.

Over the next few years I found other pieces of plastic to join them.  American Express, Chemical Bank (I’m dating myself) and others joined the wallet party.  Groceries and books were purchased, but so were hundreds of compact discs (again, dating myself) and piles of Gap t-shirts.  The minimum payments spiraled from a modest $5 per month all to way up to $50 per month.  I was a junkie, hooked on the plastic monster.  The long-term costs of my addiction never truly realized, I continued down the path.

Suddenly, I was using the cards not for convenience but out of necessity.  I needed to use them in order to have enough cash left in my account to make the payments each month.

College gave way to law school, which led inevitably to my own apartment with Ikea furniture.  The bills went up and down at various times, but never did they remain at zero for longer than a few months.

I never left home without my trusty plastic, because I never knew if I’d get the itch to buy something.  Without them I was uncertain, off-balance and nervous.  I kid you not.  According to what I’ve read, these are some of the classic signs of addiction.

Then I made the decision to open up my own law firm.  Knowing that I wasn’t going to qualify for any small business loans, I loaded up on credit cards before I left my employer’s clutches.  At first I bootstrapped my business, then I used the cards for operating expenses and marketing.  The junkie was now using in the office – and if you’ve watched Mad Men, you know that no good comes of such behavior.

Six years later I was sitting in front of a client, telling him that filing for bankruptcy would result in the loss of his beloved credit cards.  Not to worry, I said calmly – you don’t need credit cards anyway.

I’d uttered this line hundreds of times over the years, convincing clients that credit was evil and unnecessary to living a decent life.  They all nodded and smiled, but not this gentleman.  He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes, then proceeded to reveal me as the fraud I was.

Tell me, he said, how many credit cards are in your wallet right this minute?  How often do you go into your stash for simple purchases, car rentals, hotels, restaurants, or even groceries?  How much do you rely on those cards, and what would you do if someone snatched them from you in a heartbeat?

He had me dead to rights.  Here I was, recommending a course of action that I myself was unable or unwilling to take.

So I did the most illogical thing possible.  I opened my wallet right there, dumped my credit cards onto the desk, and cut them in half.  Right there, in front of my client.

In all fairness, I did it to get a client rather than as a means of taking a stand.  In fact, I expected to call the issuers later and get replacements issued.

To this day, I have no idea why I didn’t.  But each day I woke up without credit cards, and it got easier.  Not all at once, but little by little.

Good thing, too.  When my business tanked in the aftermath of 9/11 it would have taken me far longer to recover had I been saddled with more debt.  It was enough that I was working on a flawed business model at the time – I didn’t need to add a pile of plastic to the mountain of business debt.

As I write this, it is just about a decade later.  I do not use a credit card, and pay for everything using my debit card.  If I don’t have the money, I don’t buy it.  And when I make a purchase, I make it once rather than over time.

My credit score is likely as close to zero as is possible, because a credit score is nothing more than a measure of how well you pay debt.  This doesn’t concern me, because I sleep well at night.  The mailbox doesn’t scare me, and a blinking answering machine causes no anxiety or panic.

Was it easy?  Not at first, but it’s a habit like anything else.  The more you practice a life without a credit card, the better at it you get.  Learn how to break the credit card habit, to be sure.

But I found that the only way to break the cycle was to cut the cards up (in my case, I did so in front of a perfect stranger in order to prove I was not a hypocrite).  Then close out the accounts.  I know it’s going to do bad things to your credit score, but if you’re not going to use credit anymore then it’s not going to matter a lick if your score is awesome or terrible.

I’ll always be in recovery from my credit card addiction, I suppose.  There’s always something more that I will want, forever the rationale that credit is somehow safer or more secure than debit.  Airline miles, points, whatever – in the end, it’s not worth it.  In fact, things are pretty good on this side of the debt fence.

What do you think?  Could you do it voluntarily?

Image credit: PhotoCatcher/Flickr

If You Liked This Article, You'll Love These:

1. How to Break the Credit Habit
2. Breaking The Credit Habit In Five Steps
3. Interest on Credit Cards: How It Really Works
4. What Does Your Credit Card Number Say?
5. Credit Card Companies Call; But They Don’t Listen.