Welcome to Money on Your Mind, the series where we explore the reality of money and mental health in the lives of real people. In this edition, Emma reflects on saving for a house, and her relationship with overworking
Emma Loker as told to Kathryn Wheeler
Monday was my first day back after being on holiday. We’re saving for a house, and that was the last big spend before it’s time to start saving seriously. At the same time, I’m also building a mental health writing agency, and so that’s another reason why there’s this strain on money at the moment – because a lot of the stuff that I’m doing is unpaid. But both of those things are really important to me.
When I was younger, my dad was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis and was unable to work, so my mom was the sole earner for a family of five. Things were tight, and our home was a bit dilapidated. Something that soon became important to me was making sure that I had enough money. I worked from when I was 14 – and so, for me to be in a position now where I’m spending time on something that’s not generating money, it’s a bit stressful!
On Tuesday, I was talking to a freelance writer about writing blog content for my website. Obviously, that is an outgoing and, while I was really happy with it, it felt like I had to choose between investing in my business and having the money. I find myself acting as if there is only so much money in the world, and everyone only gets so much. That kind of comes back to my family and always having to work really hard for money.
I used to work in an autism specialist school. There’s never enough money in those roles – it never reflects your worth. I was a form tutor and I was studying to become a therapist, so I was working part-time and earning £12,500 a year.
It felt like that was as much as I could ever make, because I couldn’t work any harder than I was – I was run off my feet all the time, and so overwhelmed and busy. So when I started writing full-time, it felt too easy. I was making double, but putting in a lot less. I really had to challenge the idea that there’s only so much you can make, and it’s linked to how much effort you put in. This is especially true in any field where you are helping people. You’re working just as hard as, if not harder than, most people, and so it feels like you should be earning loads of money but you don’t. It shouldn’t be like that.
Wednesday was an interesting day. I had been juggling a lot and I don’t think I realised quite how much until I went for my personal training session. We were doing a really intense HIIT workout and I was finding it difficult. My trainer said: “Are you OK? You look like you’re going to cry.” And I did – I cried. I told her about everything that I was trying to do with the business – how much time, energy, and money was going into it – and how I was so worried that it wasn’t going to succeed. It was a moment of clarity for me, and I realised that I couldn’t keep going as I was. I got home and cancelled an interview I had to become a voluntary board member for a mental health organisation.
On Saturday, my fiancé decided to work in the morning to make extra money to put towards the house deposit, so I also wanted to work. But there was a point in the day where I was really annoyed with myself, because he’d been at work all morning and earned an hourly wage because he’s on a contract – but I had got wrapped up in business-related stuff, and I’d spent three of those four hours not actually earning. It meant that I then worked later to try to match what he’d put in.
I need to be mindful of that because, last year, I got to a really dark place where I felt like I needed to earn as much money as possible. It came at the cost of my wellbeing and it’s taken a lot for me to find balance. I think I was almost beyond burnout, I was depressed. My fiancé is my rock, and suggested I dropped something. At the same time, I was studying to become a counsellor, and you’re required to have personal therapy. I got to breaking point and when my therapist and I were chatting about it, she said: “You just can’t carry on how you are.” I think that combination of two people I trusted saying those things was the wake up call I needed to make a change.
On Sunday, I ended the week with my fiancé. While we were brushing our teeth and getting ready for bed, we were talking about money. We spoke about how much extra money we’d earnt that weekend to go towards the house, and how we should write it down to keep track of it. We carried on talking about money right up until we fell asleep. It’s such a big topic at the moment.
But when I reflect on the week, I realise that it’s all about balance, and money isn’t everything. Self-care is so important and, thinking about those times when I’ve worked myself into the ground, it wasn’t worth it. No money in the world would’ve been worth that feeling. I try to be careful now, so I never go back to that place.
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