and all of a sudden, things are looking up a little

Money can't buy you happiness, but it can buy you things that will make your life easier and that will help you to relax and be content, at least. A small change in circumstances can lead to a life-changing series of events and thankfully even though the change in circumstances has been negative, the outcome has been decidedly positive.

Don't get me wrong, this hasn't "cured" me, I will still get like I was on the 14th; it will just help me in between times to not be as continuously "down", and the therapy will help me stay grounded and not revert to an inward spiral of catastrophising.

It can't buy you happiness, but it can buy you time. Housework getting done time. Work getting done time. Me time. That is happiness.

When your best just isn't good enough.

When you can't get up the willpower to shower every second day, never mind plan meals so you can diet. When you struggle to get out of bed in the morning but you do so because of the kids. If you had a choice, you wouldn't, but those lovable little energy vampires make you. When your "business" is blatantly a loss-making machine but you have to be a declared business because otherwise HMRC will scalp you. Oh, the paperwork. When the therapy you've been attending for nearly a year has helped a little bit, but not helped in the way you needed. When your Social Worker doesn't bother to return your calls. When your kid's daycare threaten to call Social Services because all of a sudden, after a year of being perfectly happy with him, they now suspect neglect. Fuck you, Mrs Campbell. Fuck you very much. When you're so disgusted with how you look you dread seeing your friends. Your family. Your own husband. When you're trying so hard but you don't know what for or why because none of it seems to make a blind bit of difference. When you can't afford weight loss surgery even though you've got the evidence in your medical records that would likely get you it on the NHS oh-but-there's-a-waiting-list. Fuck it. When all you want to do is curl up and crochet, but you can't because your husband is tired and the kids aren't and oh, now you have RSI to mix in with all of that, so your hobby-cum-business can't move forward and you're left typing on the computer instead.

Pity party, my house. Bring me Tesco's Finest Salted Caramel crème liqueur for entry. Or some butterscotch schnapps.