The mental health gurus would, of course, take the opportunity to decry the evils of so-called “retail therapy”. I find this ironic, since those who leap to point out the futility of spending money to buy happiness will, in the same breath, applaud someone for wasting money on counseling! At least if you purchase a new blouse or bathrobe, it will not lacerate your psyche with hurtful assertions that you are not good enough and must “find strategies” to “do better”. Hence, while I do not believe buying clothing or home dcor items to be therapeutic it is at least neutral in its effect. Once cannot say the same for seeking advice from the mental health community.
Shopping itself is not at all therapeutic. In fact, it is usually frustrating and often depressing. Searching for the item I want, not finding it, and having to pay too much for it are all sources of stress I prefer to avoid. However, there is much to be said for buying something that will truly make you happy.
My husband never understood my misguided and ludicrous desire to write fiction. While I am undoubtedly without talent and could never succeed at that endeavor, my reasons for wanting to do so were pure. Books are a needed distraction, a springboard for thought, and a playground for the imagination. I remember when I was working three part time jobs, torturing myself by going to the gym, and becoming more depressed each day. All the work and exercise made my life a living hell, and I vividly remember feeling on one particular day that the only reason I had for living, the only thing I looked forward to, was the stack of X-Men novels I had yet to read. Buying those books on Amazon was a choice I will never regret, while wasting money seeing a councilor who condemned me as needing to “do better” (when I was already working three jobs and suicidal!) is a decision whose consequences haunt me to this day.
Another brilliant buy was the game Rome: Total War. Angry with my husband for being unsupportive of my quitting my hellish job (to which I would later return, to my detriment), I engaged in a behavior that would universally be ruled insane by all the fools who call themselves councilors. I purchased two games, one of which I have not had the change to play, the other being Rome: Total War.
I was directionless. While suffering burnout the previous semester (the same in which I lived only to read the X-Men novels and comics, hating every second of my work and exercise driven existence), I had been so blinded by hate that I could see nothing else. “What would that accomplish?” both my husband and the idiot councilor had asked when I mentioned quitting my nightmarish teaching job.
How can one be expected to rattle off a series of goals and ambitions when all she sees in front of her is an endless string of days destroyed by teaching? I had no identity, really. My husband had (rightly) shown me that the one dream I had harbored was a delusional pipe-dream. The job I had once loved had become boring, and because I did not leave the moment it did, the boredom became tedium and then evolved into hate.
The game gave me an intellectual challenge, a chance to make decisions, and to prove myself right. In the game, I saw the devastating consequences when I strove for success and lost my empire as a result. I then restarted and placed economy above military, putting the well being of my cities ahead of all goals and ambitions. Flouting the assertion that I must “do better”, I chose to “do worse”, not caring if other factions had more powerful militaries or more territory. Of course those other factions failed miserably, weakening each other with their squabbling and not managing their resources for long-term success. I thus conquered the ancient world and proved that if one strives to “do better” the result will be loss and devastation.
“Money can’t buy happiness,” the saying goes. Perhaps not, but if you think carefully, you can buy something that will make a very real difference in your happiness.
