You share your troubles in a peer support group. You meet up with a friend and talk about how you’ve been feeling. You call a support line and get out all the black, pervasive thoughts.
Going by the old saying, ‘a problem shared is a problem halved’, your problems should be somewhere on the 0 point whatever side of things now.
But they’re not. They’re still there. You’re still alone with these thoughts, these feelings or these destructive urges.
Sharing eases the weight in your chest for a moment, lifts a small slice of the shit pie and eats it up. But some damned baker out there keeps heaving these shit pies into your lap. Keeps piling on the problem-pastries and the crap filled croissants.
Bit of a dick move, if I’m honest. That guy takes his job way too seriously. And of course, there’s only so many leftovers your support network of friends and family can eat up for you before they have to focus on their own bullshit baked goods.
You’re left with this feeling that, despite trying your damned hardest, it’s all futile. There’s always something else coming next in this seemingly neverending buffet curtesy of the baker from hell.
It can be difficult to focus instead on the baker down the market, handing you small macaroons filled with pride, or that slice of cheesecake topped with wonder and joy, when the demon baker’s unwanted wares are taking up your whole pantry.
But they are there. They do exist, and they are just as transient as the bad buns. They come and go as you work through them, to be replaced by others. Recognising that the small market baker is working overtime on a single beautiful pastry for you is very important.
That they worked so hard to make this wonderful moment for you to enjoy, that you can actually forget that other shithead for a moment and focus entirely on this one, perfect thing, despite the copious amounts of paincakes being frisbee’d at you from across the street.
And that’s a beautiful thing, because in these moments you can see yourself again, you can know yourself, you can just be, and be weightless and free for a while.
So, while it may seem impossible now, try to recognise and acknowledge that one tiny mousse that can set your mind-stomach free of the torture for even just a moment.
That’s something I need to start doing myself…