I was so lucky earlier this year when I hit rock bottom. Finally rang my BF up in tears late(ish) one night about a couple of weeks after exH moved out. I'd been putting on the "brave" face to her, but really I was a right bloody mess, drinking a small bottle of brandy a day, housework had basically not been touched for 3 weeks (except enough to be able to feed the DS's, make sure they had something for the following day to wear etc). So house was a bloody pigsty,
at that point I was still overly concious about any mess in the house as exH was a bit of a clean freak and he was due to pick the DS's up on the Saturday (I rang her late Thursday night) and i really didn't want him to see it in that state (as at that point in the break-up it would have been a "I told you that you couldn't manage the house and the boys on your own". (Now is totally different, he's come in when it's totally cluttered and doesn't bat and eyelid - and i don't care anymore either)
She came over on the Friday morning and spent the entire (school) day cleaning my house, washing the dishes, hoovering, put a load of washing in, swept my floor etc etc.
And for a month or so after that either she, or one of 2 other friends would pop in to see me on a daily basis (sometimes only for 10/15 minutes - but enough to keep me sane as I couldn't bear to drag myself out of the house any more than I had to - ie pick DS's up from school and drop them off).
Even in those short visist they'd do someting small to help - wash baby bottles, pick toys up off the floor, hoover etc etc.
God I don't know what I@d have done without them