LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL

AuthorHouse

Contents

Chapter 1 Going Into the Tunnel..............................3Chapter 2 Step 1: Believe in Yourself........................11Chapter 3 Step 2: Get Organized..............................17Chapter 4 Step 3: Call Your Creditors........................29Chapter 5 Step 4: Pay Yourself First.........................35Chapter 6 Step 5: Open a Savings Account.....................39Chapter 7 Coming Out of the Tunnel...........................43

Chapter One

I have been working for the state of New York since I was seventeen years old, and I have had hundreds of thousands of dollars slip through my hands for twenty-seven years. For all of that time I was foolish in the handling of money. I used to max out my credit cards on clothes, shoes, jewelry and stereo equipment. Then I would pay the cards down just so I could max them out again.

I did it so I could get a thrill. Spending all that money made me feel good. I call those kinds of purchases comfort buys. I thought buying things (with my credit card because I had already spent all my cash) would get rid of some of the things that were bothering me. It made me feel good for a little while, but the feeling never lasted long.

At the age of forty-two I was faced with insurmountable debt. I also owed the IRS thousands of dollars, and I had nowhere to turn.

The debt collectors began calling me at home and at work day and night. Sometimes I wouldn't answer the telephone at all. Other times, when I did answer, I would disguise my voice and tell them that I wasn't there. What kind of silly mess is that? As a corrections officer, I excelled at work. But as a grown man with children and a wife I was playing games—telling complete strangers on the phone that I wasn't there.

The sick part about it was that I really started to believe that I wasn't there, because if I kept telling my creditors that, then maybe I wouldn't have to pay back the debt.

It may sound crazy, but I did it. And as I continued to practice taking myself out of the equation of life, my family began to believe it too. I wasn't there.

When I did speak to the creditors, I used to pretend to take down the 1-800 numbers they gave me so I could get back to them, by scribbling the numbers in the air with my index finger. For a long time I thought I was fooling my creditors by doing this. I eventually found out I was the fool.

They started to write me letters, some of them threatening to sue me for the total balance due. The amounts were so high I used to look at the letters and ask myself over and over again, "What the hell did I buy? And why can't I show anything for it?"

I used to dread going to the mailbox. When I opened it, I would only take out the pieces of mail I wanted. The thin white envelopes with unknown return addresses would stay inside.

All my financial resources were being tapped out—just like me. I was working three jobs, and I was exhausted.

I used to gamble and borrow money from friends, family, and myself. Almost every year I took out thousands of dollars in retirement loans. After a while I couldn't borrow any more. I even took a loan for five thousand dollars from my 457 deferred compensation plan because I was three months behind on the rent.

I owed the IRS over fifteen thousand dollars in back taxes. The credit card companies wanted all their money back, and I still had to pay child support. It was killing me because all of this was happening at once.

All my schemes to make extra money, including working overtime, came to a screeching halt. I was left to face the debt head-on like a grown-up and pay it back. But I really didn't know how I could do it with the money I was making.

How was I to take the money that I made and reasonably spread it over all my bills and living expenses? Where was I supposed to start? Who could help me? I was too embarrassed to ask for help.

If I started to pay, and my plan didn't work, then what? Up to that point I had been a failure with my finances so I felt I couldn't trust myself to get out of my mess.

Fear began to grip me even more tightly, which made me do nothing. That was the worst thing I could have done. My inaction made the balances balloon. When I realized that hiding from the problem was not my best option I began to beat myself up viciously for not addressing the issue earlier.

During all of this, my wife left me and took our twin daughters with her. I started to feel all alone and depressed. Thoughts of suicide raced through my mind. Believe it or not those thoughts were comforting to me at the time because I was watching my whole world crumble right before my eyes and there was nothing I could do.

I had never had thoughts like those before, but my debts were so big they overwhelmed me. In my mind they took the shape of a monster trying to crush me. I couldn't take it anymore. I was expected to be the provider of the household, but I was failing again.

Now, don't think I was crazy. I wasn't. I was desperate and looking for a way out. For the first time in my life, when I heard stories on TV of men and women who had killed themselves over their finances, I understood why. I listened to the reporters, families, and friends describe those people. They were for the most part hard-working, decent folks, but somewhere down the road they had made a wrong turn (or a few wrong turns) and gotten off at the wrong exit. They were looking for some light at the end of the tunnel, as was I.

I knew my thoughts of suicide were bad, so at my most desperate hour, I dropped to my knees in my dark bedroom, clutching my hands as tightly as I could. In a trembling and weak voice, I pleaded to God to help me out of my situation, and I promised that I would do whatever it took to get out.

I quickly began to feel that everything was going to be alright. I didn't know how, but I held on to that belief like my life depended on it—and it did.

I started to listen to the financial talking heads on television, but they weren't talking to me. I read a few financial books, but I couldn't understand how any of what I was reading applied to me and my life.

In another desperate move, because I had to borrow more money again, I called my twin brother, Andre, whom I knew had the money and a better way of living.

Six years earlier Andre had retired from his job as a New York City corrections officer, with houses, nice clothes, jewelry, and a Mercedes-Benz. He had traveled around the world. Shoot, to me it looked like he had everything!

During that conversation we both agreed it would be best for me to move in with him. On June 27, 2006, a day after our birthday, I arrived at his house with six big cardboard boxes, plastic garbage bags, and a broken spirit.

The first thing my brother said to me in the hallway was that, if I didn't do exactly what he said, he would throw me out. I didn't care about his threat. He stressed to me that I had to change the way I was thinking. My thinking had put me in my awful situation. I didn't want to hear that either, but I slowly let it sink into my hard head.

The second thing he did was ask me to assess the damages by gathering and organizing all of my bills. The third thing he established was the rent: three hundred dollars a month. Lastly he saw to it that I gave my wife money for our...