Killing Me Softly

The shadows under my eyes are an illusion, but the smile is genuine after successfully making a roulade, and first attempt at making meringue! 

When I'm having particularly bad days I like to surround myself with comforting things, be that my favourite foods, a good blanket, a Grey's Anatomy marathon or baking my favourite recipes. I frequently bake, its something I really enjoy, mostly because I like giving my treats to others and sharing the happiness. I love the process of baking, IF I'm referring to a recipe that I've used time and time again. Those recipes are a comfort for the hectic days when I really can't bare for anything to go wrong.

I recently started challenging myself, particularly when it comes to baking. When I was seeing a psychiatrist they set me some 'simple' homework tasks; even the easiest of tasks can be a huge challenge for those living with depression. They stressed that it was really important for me to challenge myself mentally, their suggestion was to challenge myself through reading. I didn't think that baking would challenge my mind, and my patience so much, to the point of breaking down over a batch of florentines (aka stupid fancy biscuits). The biscuits got stuck to the baking paper, the dark cloud in my mind started taunting me and the rustling noises from wrestling the damn things off the paper resembled the noise of someone crushing several plastic bags against my eardrums. I'd had enough, I abandoned the situation in search of my comforting place. 

When I've lost control of my body to sickness after sickness, and I've lost control of other aspects of my life I turn to baking for comfort. There's a recipe that has been perfected, tried and tested by someone else, you follow it and there aren't supposed to be any hiccups along the way. So when the pastry starts to crack and shit seeps through, I break down. I was relying on that recipe to see me through, to be my saviour in my day of crisis. But sometimes even the most well thought out plans fail. 

In order to start the baby steps of getting better, I need to learn how to not run away from the distressing situations. I need to stick around, stay strong and scoop up the cracked pieces of pastry and mash them together into something that resembles the desired outcome.