After almost a year of scraping by, I had a maxed out credit card, student loans I couldn’t pay, rent I couldn’t afford, five dollars in my bank account, and a box of pasta to last me a week. I would buy expired food at the dollar store on the corner because it was half price, but even that had become too expensive. I sat on the floor of my bedroom, tracing the steps of every decision I’d made and wondered if I would be homeless in a week. I’d dug myself a financial grave. It was time to decide if I wanted to die in it or swallow my pride and ask for help.