A lot of times in my life I've wondered how I got myself into dark, nasty places, with dark, nasty people and wondered how I could get out. Those dark, nasty people wanted me to believe I couldn't, and that that was as good as life was going to get.
I never wanted to believe them, but it's really hard to believe, when you're at the bottom, and drowning in darkness and loneliness, that there's anything else in the world.
It's hard to see the light, and to believe in your own strength, and to strive for more when you're surrounded by 'no' and 'can't' and 'impossible'.
The thing is, deep down, I really don't believe in 'no' or 'impossible'. Some things are pretty damned improbable, but impossible is quite rare.
Someone once told Sir Christopher Wren, and all his builders, that a domed roof was impossible. Tosh, said he, and he bloody did it anyway. All knowledge, all science, all engineering before that point PROVED that what he planned to do was impossible. It just could not happen.
But look. There it is. And it has been for nearly 350 years. That slaps impossible right in the face, doesn't it?
I once came very close to believing, entirely, that there was no way up from the despair I was living in. Then it got worse.
Then a was given a bit of a shake, and told to man the fook up, unless I really believed that was it, and that was all I could be.
So man the fook up I did. Now I'm somewhere a very long way from that dark place. Now I'm in a very happy place.
I have a beautiful family, and a wonderful husband who (though I may nag) is a far better man than I ever thought I would be lucky enough to marry. I have two beautiful children who give me laughter, joy and excitement every single day. Even on the bad days. They delight me.
I have a great job where I'm learning a lot of new things, where I'm surrounded by people I really like, and I have a network of friends who are honestly just the best people you could ever hope to know. And they all seem to quite like me too, so maybe I'm not entirely vile.
Now and then I have a wobble. I wonder if I'm missing something, if I should be striving for more, and forget how incredible right now is.
Then you stand, at mightnight, in the rain, looking at St Paul's Cathedral. And you know. Everything is perfect. Everything is perfect right now. Everything is perfect because once, a long time ago, in a dark and scary place, someone told me I'd never achieve anything, never be happy, never be liked.
That person was wrong. A lot of people were wrong. Maybe they're wrong about you too.
St Paul's Cathedral proves it. Sometimes you just need to stand still in the rain and look.