Friday
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I don’t handle depression well. I really, really suck at it. Every other symptom I can manage to some degree, but depression just cuts me off at the knees. If I’m lucky I get some kind of early warning sign I’m about to drop into a depression, but mostly I just sorta wake up several months later realizing that I’ve been depressed.
I realized several years ago that if I’m baking? I’m about to hit the skids, hard. I cook. I don’t bake.
And I’ve got a kilo of peaches soaking in rum, spices, and brown sugar for a galette. :banghead:
Sadly, simply nipping the pastry into the bin doesn’t halt depression in its tracks? ((I have tried that. A few times, just to be sure I didn’t do it wrong the first time. I know. It sounds ridiculous, but I get desperate about this sort of thing. And far more ridiculous sounding things have worked in the past // Rule of Combat #WTF - If it looks stupid, but it works? It ain’t stupid.))
Okay.
So I know I’m about to hit a depression. What do I do? What can I do? Can I stop it? Prepare for it? Work around it somehow? Welp. :eek:
I realized several years ago that if I’m baking? I’m about to hit the skids, hard. I cook. I don’t bake.
And I’ve got a kilo of peaches soaking in rum, spices, and brown sugar for a galette. :banghead:
Sadly, simply nipping the pastry into the bin doesn’t halt depression in its tracks? ((I have tried that. A few times, just to be sure I didn’t do it wrong the first time. I know. It sounds ridiculous, but I get desperate about this sort of thing. And far more ridiculous sounding things have worked in the past // Rule of Combat #WTF - If it looks stupid, but it works? It ain’t stupid.))
Okay.
So I know I’m about to hit a depression. What do I do? What can I do? Can I stop it? Prepare for it? Work around it somehow? Welp. :eek: