Table of Contents
How to Survive Debt
Let’s not sugarcoat it: your 20s were marketed like the golden era. Supposedly, you’d graduate, land a dream job, travel, fall in love, maybe even start a side hustle that blows up into a six-figure brand. Instead, here’s reality: you’re unemployed or stuck in a dead-end job, drowning in debt, surviving on instant noodles, and your brain feels like it’s glitching on low battery. I know because I’ve been there. I once had less than ₹200 in my account and stretched it over two days by eating nothing but biscuits and black tea. I’ve ignored calls from unknown numbers because I was terrified it was the bank. I’ve faked “being busy” when friends asked to hang out—because the truth was, I couldn’t even afford the cab fare. This is the guide I wish someone had given me back then—not the Instagram “glow-up” hacks, not the toxic positivity, but the real survival manual for when life crashes and you’re left staring at the frozen screen.
Step 1: Admit You’re Not Okay (That’s the Reset Button)
You don’t have to pretend to be fine. Not every day is a hustle montage. Sometimes just brushing your teeth is a win. The moment you stop performing “I’m okay” for everyone else is when you can actually begin to fix things. Vulnerability isn’t weakness—it’s the reset button.
Step 2: Debug Your Brain Before Fixing Your Wallet
I once sat with my bank app open, paralyzed, because even logging in made my chest hurt. That’s when I realized: you can’t solve money problems with a fried brain. Step one isn’t a budget spreadsheet—it’s stabilizing your headspace. Sleep properly. Drink water like it’s a job. Write down the spirals looping in your mind. When your brain has breathing room, the numbers don’t look like monsters anymore.
Step 3: Debt Isn’t Just Numbers, It’s Emotional Weight
Debt doesn’t just drain your account—it eats your self-worth. You start feeling guilty for buying toothpaste. I used to walk past street food stalls, hungry, telling myself, “You don’t deserve it until you’re debt-free.” That shame is poison. Flip the script: debt is math, not morality. You’re not a failure—you’re just in a tough equation. Shrink it. Don’t stare at ₹5,00,000. Stare at ₹1,000. Every small payment is you reclaiming ground.
Step 4: Stop Carrying Shame Like It’s a Backpack
The secret is this: most people are struggling, they’re just better at hiding it. The guy posting vacation pictures? Probably swiped his credit card. That “boss babe” in a café with her laptop? Probably drowning in student loans. Shame thrives in silence. The moment you admit—out loud—“Yeah, I’m broke and not okay right now,” it loses its grip.
Step 5: Cancel Subscriptions, Upgrade Skills
I once realized I was paying for Spotify, Netflix, and a gym I never went to—while borrowing money for groceries. Cancelled them all. That ₹2,000 went into a cheap online course in writing. That skill later helped me freelance and pay rent. Subscriptions give you dopamine. Skills give you freedom. Build skills that earn. Coding. Copywriting. Design. Even selling things online. Free YouTube is a better university than half the overpriced degrees out there.
Step 6: Build a Routine That Survives the Glitches
Here’s what I learned the hard way: motivation dies fast. Discipline saves you. I started with one rule—always cook dinner at home. No matter how bad the day was. That single boring rule saved me money, gave me control, and even helped my mental health. Don’t chase a “perfect morning routine.” Just build one or two repeatable systems that survive bad days. Boring routines keep chaos out.
Step 7: Depression Isn’t Laziness, It’s a System Crash
There were weeks I couldn’t apply for jobs. I’d just stare at my laptop until my head buzzed. Back then, I called myself lazy. Now I know it was depression. Depression is not you being “weak.” It’s your system crashing from overload. Treat it like rebooting a frozen phone. Step away. Breathe. Move your body. Restart. Restart again tomorrow. And the next day. Progress comes in reboots, not one miracle upgrade.
Step 8: Find a Support Network That Feels Real
Instagram is not support. Likes don’t hug you back. I got more real comfort from a broke friend who admitted she was struggling than from a hundred fake “You got this!” comments online. If you can, go to therapy. If you can’t, join online communities where people admit they’re lost. Even talking to strangers on Reddit who “get it” can feel better than pretending offline. One honest friend > 1,000 fake cheerleaders.
Step 9: Crash, Reboot, Repeat
Here’s the ugly truth: you’ll relapse. You’ll overspend. You’ll binge-scroll TikTok at 2 a.m. You’ll ghost opportunities. And that’s okay. Every system glitches. Progress isn’t a clean straight line—it’s ugly, messy, and full of restarts. The point isn’t to never crash. The point is to keep rebooting. Every time you restart, you’re proving to yourself that you’re still in the game.
The Unfiltered Truth
You’re not broken. You’re not a failure. You’re a human, glitching through life with too many tabs open. The debt will shrink. The fog will lift. The system will reboot. And even if it’s messy and slow, you’ll still move forward. So next time your brain whispers “You’re lost,” answer back: “Yeah, but I’m still here. Still rebooting.”