Why Am I Always So Anxious About Money, Even When I'm Doing "Okay"?

There's a calculator that runs in the back of my head and it never turns off. Someone suggests dinner, and before I've even said yes, I've quietly tallied what it costs, what's left after, what bill it pushes closer to the edge. I smile and agree. And then I feel it for two weeks. From the outside I look fine. I have a job. I pay my rent. By most measures I'm "doing okay." But okay doesn't touch the low hum of dread that lives under everything — the feeling that I'm always one bad month, one broken-down car, one unexpected bill away from it all coming apart. I'm so tired of pretending. Tired of performing ease while doing invisible math at every table. Tired of laughing off "let's split it" when splitting it quietly wrecks my week. Nobody talks about how lonely this is — how you can be surrounded by people and still feel completely alone in the specific fear of running out. And the part that really gets me is the shame. Like I should have this figured out by now. Like everyone else got a manual I missed. I work hard. I don't waste money. And still it feels like sprinting just to stay in the exact same place, while being told I just need to "budget better." Some nights I lie awake watching numbers scroll behind my eyes, doing math on money I don't even have yet, borrowing tomorrow's panic to spend it tonight. I don't need anyone to fix it. I think I just need to know I'm not the only one carrying this quietly. If the money math lives rent-free in your head too — if you're exhausted from bracing for a floor that never quite drops but never feels solid either — please tell me I'm not alone in this.