Nothing – literally nothing – can beat the feeling when the two carefully crafted handles of a beautiful paper shopping bag slip from the hands of a sales associate into mine. It’s a complete and total victory. Sure, I just spent an absurd about of money, but somehow, I still won, and I won big time.

To me, shopping is more than something I just do in my free time. Admittedly, I am totally and completely addicted to it. Like, really addicted. I'm always thinking about shopping: what piece I want next, how I'm going to save enough money to buy it, when I'll be able to get it -- I just can't stop. It’s not only about getting the amazing designer pieces that I love, it's the act of shopping itself.

You know how you feel after you finally have sex with that person you've been crushing on forever? Well yeah, shopping feels like that. But, way better.

When I’m doing homework on my laptop I can guarantee you a Barney’s or Neiman Marcus tab is open alongside Google Docs (OK, maybe Hermés and Saks too). And, if I haven't sent you countless screenshots of things that I want to buy, then our friendship isn't nearly as real as you thought it was.

The most obvious effect of my shopping habit is the one that it has on my bank account. If bank accounts had feelings, mine would totally hate me. It would actually despise me and beg anyone listening to close it immediately. Just when it thinks it's getting big, I buy something bigger, and down, down, down it goes again.

My idea of budgeting is the saddest excuse for a behavior describing that word I've ever heard. Seriously, it's pathetic. “Oh, I have $2,450 in my bank account? I can spend $2,150.” No Julian, no…That is not how budgeting works. And I know that! But I just can't help myself -- something about handing over my credit card in return for a Chanel bag delicately wrapped with a camellia flower and bow is just, well, better than being responsible with my money.

That’s another thing that makes shopping so damned addictive. I know I'm doing something wrong when I spend way beyond my means and buy a Louis Vuitton backpack, but that only adds to the fun. It's like when you were in high school drinking Four Loko in the unfinished basement of some kid’s house. That was only fun because you weren't supposed to be doing it. Well, shopping gives me that same feeling, and I never want to give it up.

I am a slave to this addiction, so I guess you could say I'm in constant debt. Not actual debt, I always manage to get my (ridiculous) credit card bills payed off. But mental debt? Absolutely. I won't spend money on things I actually need, like groceries or socks, because I would rather save it to go towards some Valentino sneakers. Absurd? Yes. My reality? Also, yes.

And to make things even worse, I can find any reason to shop. Literally any. Visiting a new city? Better check out the local shopping and get some ‘souvenirs.’ (Because a pair of Dior sunglasses that you could buy anywhere totally counts as a souvenir, right?) Bored in class? Barneys.com to the rescue! Just went through a bad break up? Balenciaga sneakers can fix that. Excited about a new guy? Why not celebrate with some Saint Laurent?! Shopping is like alcohol – there are endless reasons to justify a thirst for it.

Unfortunately, enough is never enough. I remember making my first big luxury purchase, defending the Uber-expensive backpack by saying, “Well, it will last me forever, I'll never need to buy something like this again.” But a year later and next season’s bags are out, and damn, do they look good.

To make things even worse, I am not Uber-rich enough to afford the things I buy. At all. I’m continually spending way more than I can actually afford, practicing my version of budgeting by setting aside 90% of my paycheck every week to eventually accumulate enough money for a new lambskin wallet – even though that wallet will hold nothing but maxed out credit cards.

I know my shopping addiction is bad, and I wish that I could end this article with some great come-to-Jesus moment where I see the error in my ways and vow to never buy a $850.00 pair of shoes again, because I seriously can't afford them. But that is totally never (ever) going to happen. Shopping is my ultimate addiction, and I, sure as hell, am no quitter.