I found a pink Rochas dress with jewelled cuffs on matchesfashion.com the other day; celestial in its beauty. I did not buy it because I did not have enough money in the money bank. Easy. Annoying but easy. I can grieve that frock and move on.
Later that day I toyed with the idea of going on a starvation (sorry, detox) retreat in Austria for seven days. I did not book it because I do not have enough credit in the mad bank. A week of sitting on my own in a dressing gown with no coffee and no distraction except the prospect of an enema or some cupping is an episode I simply cannot afford. I am not swimming in a vulgarity of robust sanity right now. Or ever. And so, just as financial hygiene may enable me to keep my house, so decent lunacy monitoring may allow me to just… carry on. Because, although broadly fine, like many of us, it wouldn’t take much to send me to bed for a month. Curtains drawn. Go away. Too much. Feel desperate. Can’t. That situation sometimes feels only a sanity splurge way.
Perhaps I ‘should’ do that detox. Maybe I ‘should’ override the self-knowledge. But ‘should’ is part of the problem. ‘Should’ is shaming. ‘Should’ tends to be generalised rather than personalised. In mad bank terms, ‘should’ can be very, very expensive. Over-priced, more often than not. And so, keep an eye on your mad bank balance. It’s insurance of a kind. You are, as they say, worth it.