A Perfect Pie

Depression is really hard. It doesn't matter how much you try and buck yourself up, it's just not possible. It doesn't matter how many people tell you to stop dwelling on it and get up and do something instead, it's often hard just to stand up, let alone move around. A lot of days are hard, even when I blog about something more cheery, because otherwise my blog would be too "boring" for words. There's often a sense that I am lazy when I find I can't seem to get anything done because I'm moving through treacle. I saw this and thought    

yes, maybe that partly explains it. I spent two and a half years killing myself with overtime to please a Boss that was never going to be satisfied, because of a hidden agenda and now I'm rebelling. This would mean I only have another year to go of being totally lazy before that debt is re-paid. Sadly, I'm not convinced it works like that.

The other thing depression ruins is your ability to be rational. To see the every day disasters of life in a sensible adult rational way. You want to be able to be calm and balanced, but emotions and feelings seem to just flood in. Take my pie for example............

Yesterday, although moving through my "fug" (not sure what this word means, but it's a bit like fog and a bit like sticky mud!!), I thought I would be a good Mommy and make Chicken and Mushroom pie for tea - the one Froogs taught me. There was enough filling for two pie tins, but only enough pastry to top one and a half, but I didn't let that worry me too much. The trouble started after I'd put the pies in the oven to cook.  

When the buzzer went to say they were done, I opened the door and was dismayed. I had forgotten, somehow that puff pastry, you guessed it, puffs up. I had put the best pie too high in the oven and now it wouldn't come out because the top was higher inside the oven. I tried to slide the oven shelf out and catch the pie behind it and in the process of doing so, lost hold of the pie which spilled the best parts of it's contents in the back corner of the oven.

Well, with that, the tears started to flow. My DH came runnning when the sound of my blubbing and wailing got too high and when he said it was Ok, he nearly ended up with the rest of the pie down his shirt!!

However, wonderful man that he is, when faced with me screaming in his face, "No, it's not Ok, everything I do just turns to ****", he stayed very calm and replied, "I know it doesn't feel Ok right now, but look at what you've made............

...........you've made one pie with filling, but no top...............

...........and one pie, with a lovely top, but no filling..............

.......... so between the two, they average out at one perfect pie."

I must admit he did have me chuckling, even through my tears.

Lots of Love Arwedd xx