Not even for chocolate?

Each year, I take a week of vacation to make fancy chocolates for my friends and family. I start planning in the fall, creating a sampler menu and figuring out shopping lists. I love dreaming up new flavors and trying out different techniques. The feedback I get from these yearly samplers is overwhelmingly positive, even from people who don't like the idea of "weird" flavors.

When I worked in banking, I used to take my vacation at the beginning of December, so I could have everything ready for the holidays. The majority of my family celebrates Christmas, so that gave me a solid deadline. Now I work for a non-profit and December is too busy with end-of-year fundraising to take a week off, so I have to wait until January. Things at work have finally calmed down, so I took this week as my "chocolate vacation."

I thought making chocolates was the one thing that I was always going to have enthusiasm for. I love chocolate in all its forms (except for cheap white chocolate--that's just nasty). I love inventing flavor combinations and finding new ways to play with classic flavors. But not this year. This year, I have no energy for it. We built an awesome chocolate-making station with some new equipment that I would normally be dying to work with and fine-tune. Even that is not enough to inspire me. Not this year. I have a fantastic menu of things that I'd really like to taste but I have absolutely no interest in making those things. I finished the old stand-by peanut butter balls (because everyone loves those things) and some almond butter balls (so I can have some, too), which usually works as a warm up. But not this year.

I'm doing all the things you're supposed to do to keep depression at bay. I eat healthy, I exercise daily, I rarely drink alcohol, I'm taking all my supplements, I keep myself clean and presentable, I get a decent amount of sleep, and I make sure to socialize. But I'm still tired and miserable all the time. I know depression lies and that I can't listen to that insidious voice that keeps reminding me how nice it would be to stop doing all that stuff and just give up. It worries me to discover that I can't even muster a little enthusiasm for chocolate making. That's a scary depth of depression. I suppose it's time to find a new therapist, but I don't really feel like making the effort. (Ironic, right? Ha-ha. Depression sucks.)

Depression and Bacon

Grief + depression = massive amounts of "please can't I stay in bed today" (hint: no, you can't). One of these days I'll write a eulogy for my little cat baby, but this is not that day.  I'm still disoriented without her.  I've been depressed for so long that I alternate between actual depression, frustration with the continued depression, and sheer boredom with being depressed. 

Fairy Tale

Happiness.

Like a unicorn
or a dragon-

A rumor, a tale
of something that existed
Once upon a time,

A long time ago.

I feel like this unicorn really understands my poem...

Yeah, depression is pretty boring.  More interesting--this weekend I invented a new comfort breakfast.  My primal version of the cinnamon roll is a bacon-wrapped banana, which is exactly as awesome as it sounds.  Wind a piece of bacon around a peeled banana and bake it at 400F until the bacon is as done as you like--crispy bacon, gooey banana.  And it's easier to make than the cinnamon rolls you get in the can.  It's not particularly easy to share, though, so I created THIS:

Baked Bacon-nanas

1/2 lb bacon
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp allspice
1/4 tsp cardamom
1/8 tsp cloves
4-6 bananas, sliced
Butter

Place the bacon on a wire rack over a cookie sheet.  Bake at 400F for 15 minutes.  Cut into bite-sized pieces.  Butter an 8x8 baking dish and place banana slices in the bottom.  Combine the spices and sprinkle over the banana slices.  Scatter bacon pieces on top.  Bake at 375F for 10-15 minutes.  Enjoy!

Still pretty danged easy to make and very easy to share.  Or not, because you may be tempted to keep it to yourself.
 

Three Good Things: Snow Daze Edition

Ugh.  Snow.  It's looking like work may be closed for the next day and half.  Super.  (When will there be a sarcasm font?!  I NEED IT.)  So I'm looking at lots of time all by myself and it doesn't make me all that happy because I'm once again wishing that things were different.  I'd much rather spend the time snuggled with my partner, and theoretically he feels the same way, but once again it just can't happen.  Knowing that is making it tough to look on the bright side.  I'm gonna try to do it anyway:

1. Being alone makes it much more likely that I will get plenty of sewing and crafting done.
2. No one will be around to see how much popcorn and/or chocolate I can consume in one sitting.
3. I don't have to share the sources of warmth (heater, blanket, cats) or the remote control.

So there you have it.  Snow days are for crafting and junk food.  And cats.

From the ilikeCATS Etsy Shop

 If it's cold and/or snowy where you are--stay warm and snuggle up with whatever or whoever is close by (and consents to the snuggles, of course--always get consent).

Three Good Things 1.14.15

The winter blues have got me by the throat again and it’s been particularly bad for the last few weeks.  I’m going to try to go back to an old anti-depression technique and start looking for three good things each day.  I’m also going to try to post them here, since this is such a handy spot to write stuff down.  Yesterday was particularly horrible:  feeling incredibly isolated, getting bad news, going to a meeting for work instead of meeting my friends for a run.  Finding three good things in yesterday has taken some effort.

1. Went to the library and got some interesting-looking books plus a new TV series to watch during the couch-sitting that goes on so regularly these days.
2. Ran into an ex-coworker/friend at the evening meeting and had a chance to catch up with her.
3. Ate leftover Jambalayish for dinner, which is just as tasty on Day 3 as on Day 1 (recipe below).  It was tasty enough to overcome my sads and get me to eat a reasonable dinner.

The only thing missing from the dinner was cornbread.  I know this because someone in the household WAS eating cornbread and it smelled yummy enough to make my mouth water a little.  Normally, I try very hard to stay away from the Primal/Paleo baked goods substitutes, but a lightly sweet, slightly crumbly bread product would be such a great compliment to the dish.  This is another “throw stuff in the slow cooker” recipe because minimal effort works well for me right now.

Jambalayish

Ingredients:

Chicken (approx 1 lb) in bite-size pieces (I used leftover chicken breast)

Andouille sausage (approx 1 lb), cut in 1/4” slices (cook it first—it slices better that way)

1 onion, chopped

1 green pepper, chopped

2 stalks celery, chopped

2-3 cloves garlic, minced

2 c. okra (optional) (I used a 12 oz bag of frozen, sliced okra—minimal effort again)

1-2 c. chicken broth or stock (if you’re spooning over rice or like it more soupish, use 2 c. broth)

14.5 oz can fire-roasted tomatoes

6 oz. can tomato paste

2 bay leaves

1 rounded Tbsp Tony Chachere’s original seasoning blend

½ tsp dried thyme

1 tsp dried parsley

1 lb raw, deveined, peeled shrimp

 

Instructions:

Toss everything except the shrimp in the slow-cooker.  Mix well.  Cook on Low for 6 hours.  Add shrimp and cook for an additional 20-30 minutes (until shrimp are just cooked).

Serve with Frank’s Hot Sauce or some sriracha (if you like it spicy) and spoon over rice, cauliflower rice, celery root “grits,” or salad greens.  Or skip the fancy stuff and serve it like the stew it is.  Enjoy!

I have no idea if this would freeze well because we’re eating it all up too quickly to try that.  I suspect the thing to do would be to freeze it without the shrimp in it and add them whenever you thaw it.  If you try the recipe, leave a comment and let me know what you thought!  And if you know of a good Primal/Paleo cornbread substitute, please tell me where to find the recipe.

And if you have time, read this because depression doesn't always look like you might think it does.

Goblintown

Or should that be Gobblin'town, since it's Thanksgiving weekend?  For the fun part of this post, skip to the links at the bottom.

(here is the not-fun part of this post)

Down
       Down
              Down

Argh.  So depressed I don't even feel like writing about being depressed.  Sad during the holidays--it's extra depressing that I'm a cliche.  Sweet merciful heavens, let this be shortlived.  What about the silver lining, you ask?  Well, I'm depressed enough that I don't feel like eating, which is good because I need to lose weight, since I'm nearly too big for my britches and can't really afford new ones.

My little buddy, who doesn't really care if I stay in my jammies all day

(here is the fun part of this post)

Also was briefly cheered when my latest trip through the interwebs rabbit hole found this article.  Cthurkey.  It's what's for dinner.  Thanks, Bloggess!

Bloomin'

A few weeks ago, I had a brief but dramatic bout of whining about something.  I had been trying not to be needy and failed completely.  This prompted me to try once again to make a change in how I experience the world.  In my explorations of religion and philosophy, I've run across the idea of living in the moment many times.  It generally sounds like a good idea, but it's tough to put into practice in everyday life.  After the grand whine, I started paying attention to how often I was wishing that things in my life were different.  Big things and little things, all the time I was wishing for other things.  Once I realized how pervasive this discontent was, I started trying to change that into something that is both more positive and more realistic.  Whenever I wish for something to be different, I am ignoring the reality of my situation as well as putting more energy toward negative feelings.

I've been trying to work on this for a couple of weeks.  I've stopped saying “I wish” and started using those moments to stop and observe where I really am at that moment.  This still requires nearly constant vigilance, but I'm beginning to see a slight shift.  I am starting to look a little harder for a silver lining in situations that are not much fun.  Starting to appreciate what I do have, instead of wishing for something that I can't have. 

The phrase “Bloom where you're planted” used to seem like giving up, a way of being cheerful about settling for a less than wonderful situation.  Now, it seems more like a way of enjoying life without requiring stagnation or resignation.  Those “I wish” moments still happen, and they certainly help me identify what areas of my life need some work.  Knowing that I can take tiny steps to increase the chances of change, I'm free to enjoy the good parts of the things that are happening around me.  And if I am unable to get happy about the moment, it gives me a chance to reframe my thoughts and imagine how I would feel if my wishes were reality.  Either way, I wind up with a more positive outlook.  Win!

Sources say this probably isn't actually Cherokee, but it's still pretty cool.

Missing Art

Once upon a time, I thought of myself as an artist.  I’ve played around with a wide variety of tools and techniques over the years.  About a week ago, an image popped into my mind just as I was waking up and I saw it as a pen and ink drawing.  As I was talking to a friend who agreed to be a hand model for the piece, I realized that it has been years since I worked on anything I thought of as an art project.  Between the divorce (and subsequent dating), working 6 days a week, and learning to run, I haven’t had much time for art.  I created a piece of jewelry for friend a couple of years ago, and a handmade book/journal for my mom a year or two prior to that.  That’s it.

Of course, I’ve been writing during this time period.  Mostly blog posts, but also poetry.  I’m not certain why I don’t consider writing as art.  Maybe because the process of composing an essay is so different from the process of designing?  Poems usually come to me in a rush and as a whole, editing rarely required, so that process is different from either writing or designing.  Generally, it seems I have been crafting—creating chocolate flavors and costumes and crocheting and card-making.  These things sometimes use techniques from my various artistic endeavors, but they aren’t really art.  They rarely evoke an emotional response, which has normally been my motivation for creating art in the past.

Definitions aside, I have experienced inspiration for the first time in a very long time.  Now I’m worried that my drawing skills have deteriorated, so I’ve started making backup plans to create the image as a sculpture, possibly even as a painting.  Ah, my lack of confidence makes me want to shake myself until my eyeballs rattle.  Thank heaven for the library—I picked up a couple of drawing books, including this one, which looks like a fun way to get back to my roots.   

Doesn't it look like fun?

I’ve been working so much in other media that I haven’t done any drawing other than sketching costume or jewelry ideas in maybe a decade.  In flipping through the book, I’ve found quite a few exercises that make me nervous but also excited.  It’s tough to say how this will turn out, but I’ve got a new sketchbook and sharpened my pencils.  Now I just have to find a volunteer to be a model for my life drawings…anyone up for it?  Heck, you get naked and sit still while you’re randomly stared at for 3 hours—who WOULDN’T want to try that?

Toothless

Had another tooth pulled last week.  Yucky.  It's healing reasonably well, certainly better than the last one.  It's been years since I had an extraction done and I was still a smoker back then.  Now, I have clean and happy lungs and healthier eating habits.  It makes a big difference.  Also, in talking with a friend who recently had one pulled, I discovered that penicillin seems to affect mental states.  She was on it for a week or so and said she thought that she was going crazy, so perhaps that explains the deeper than usual depression I was dealing with.  I hope to get back to running within a week or two and I'm done with antibiotics for a while, so things should ease up very soon.  Think happy, healing thoughts for me, please?!

Open wide, this will only take a minute...

Illin'

I’m not sure I can think of a way to talk about this without sounding like a whiner.  This depression is really starting to get me down, you know?  It stole any sense of pride or accomplishment I might have gotten from completing my first marathon.  How unfair is that?  I should have been so pleased/excited/happy/ proud but instead I just felt relieved that it was over.  If it weren’t for wine, crafty crap, and cats, I don’t know how I’d cope.  Depression lies to you and I know that, but it talks so loudly and it’s always so certain that I’m (pick ANY negative descriptor—I’ve said it to myself at some point).  It’s been six months now.  It’s like serving time except you have no idea how long your sentence will last.  Could start feeling better next week.  Could still be in this headspace at Christmas.  During my marathon training, I was wondering how much more depressed I would be if I weren’t running so damned much.  Well.  Turns out to be a fair amount more depressed.  I haven’t been able to run since the marathon due to physical issues of one sort or another and things are absolutely getting worse.

Of course, there are plenty of things I do that keep it from getting too bad.  I take the right vitamins and supplements, I exercise (still walking 10-20 miles per week), I try to get out of the house, I stay busy.  I’m beginning to find myself withdrawing from my friends now.  I’ve tried a few times to suggest a girl’s night, but they all have partners* who are so cool they can’t be left behind, even for one night.  (Either that, or they need some moral support to deal with being around me for an entire evening—don’t think I haven’t considered that angle.)  Being the 3^rd, 5^th, or 7^th wheel has lost its appeal and become more of a chance to find something different to be depressed about rather than a beneficial social interaction.  I occasionally consider getting back on the online dating sites, but that feels almost like an addiction at this point.  (i.e. “I feel like crap about myself, I need some positive feedback and here’s an easy source.”) Maybe prescription drugs are the way to go, but they have such unpleasant side effects.  Hopefully I’ll heal up from this physical mess and get back to running very soon.  At least then I’ll only be kinda bummed instead of the way I feel now.

*I use the term partner because some of my friends are married and some are dating, and because I believe the terminology should be the same across the board, whether you are gay or straight, married, living together, or dating.  You are romantically involved with that person currently (and if you’re romantically involved with more than one, you have partners—simple as that).  It’s easier all around, but I doubt it will catch on since it doesn’t give anyone a social cue about the status of your romantic relationship or if your significant other (or others) happen to be the same gender as you are. Humans are so illogical.