health

The Shape of My Demons

/ The Black Hat Baker / 1 Comment

It’s okay not to be okay. Especially right now.

For the last few years, anyone with anxiety has been tweaking pretty constantly- including me. The uncertainty and chaos in the world (particularly in the US) has provided almost an ambient level of background fear and disquiet.

Then the pandemic hit… then the protests... and now there are massive forest fires blanketing the West Coast in a dirty orange haze of smoke and ash. My wife and I are fine for right now, but if the pandemic wasn’t already giving us cabin fever, choking on the air as soon as we walk outside surely will.

For the last 7 years or so, exercise has been the outlet for my stress and anxiety. Running, especially- the feeling of constant motion, cold air in my lungs, the smell of trees and leaves revitalizes me. And there’s always the “Zone-” the space in a run where your mind blanks and everything goes quiet. You move down an endless trail- your brain falls silent, your train of thought stalls, and all you need to do to maintain this perfect bliss is just keep moving.

It helped keep my demons asleep… but now I can’t go running. Not without feeling like I chainsmoked an entire tobacco plantation. I’m stuck indoors for the time being- and my demons are still there with me.

A person sits against a concrete wall with their arms on their knees and their head down. They are barefoot on a concrete floor.
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
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The Numbs

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I wandered into the living room and sat cross-legged on the floor, my back against the filing cabinet with our TV on it. We had gotten the TV for free, but neither of us watched it much, except for in-home movie nights. Em was crashed out on our couch, listening to podcasts and booping at a game on her phone.

“It’s been so weird,” I said, as Cleo wandered up and batted curiously at the strings on my hoodie. “Ever since last Thursday, I’ve just felt so numb. Like I’m stuck in a bubble and floating through the world.”

Em paused for a minute and thought. “You know how the Stages of Grief can apply to more than just people dying? Like they can apply to any sudden change in life? It sounds like you’re in the denial stage.”

Cleo has given up trying to eat my clothing and instead curls up in my lap, presenting her chin for scratches. I oblige and raise an eyebrow toward Em. “Okay… What am I grieving over then?”

”The fact that, as healthy as you have lived, and as much care as you’ve taken of your body- all the effort to get healthy and fit- you can still get sick from something you never saw coming.”

Young man on a park bench Seated with his head in his hands, face down.
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86 the Normal

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Good evening, friends and neighbors.

The weather this weekend could have been better- cloudy, muggy, windy, rainy. No good for going out and doing much, which made it picture perfect for my days off.

See, lately, I’ve been on a big kick of not trying to do something every fucking minute. With the parade of nightmares, hatred, anger, righteous rage, and natural disasters happening outside my little corner- as often as I poke my head out to try and do some good, I want to spend some time remembering what still IS good. The “eternal verities” of a culinary life.

Everyone wants to “return to normal”- the pandemic to go away, hurricane season to pass, and the protesters to shut up and go home (after November 2016, I’ve learned that the people screaming and begging for “peace” tend to actually mean “peace and quiet.”)
Here’s the problem, though- that “normal” wasn’t working as well as you think it was. It won’t come back. It can’t, and if we’re being honest, it probably shouldn’t.

The end of the day at Saint Honore in Portland Oregon
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The Cost of Doing Business

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Good evening, friends and neighbors.

I am going to be 34 in July. I have been baking for about nine years after being a Nurse’s Aide, an EMT, and various positions at a Boy Scout summer camp (Health Officer, Trading Post Clerk, and counselor for seven merit badges.)

I also used to be very overweight. I lost 110 lbs about 6 years ago, and I have more or less maintained it (I gained back 15 over the last year. Depression is a hell of a drug.)

The folks I work with are about my age. This post is about us- the folks that make the pastries you love, and what this industry does to you. If you’re a student, take this as a warning. Start an exercise regimen now, invest in some good shoes, and eat your veggies.

Photo by Michael Browning on Unsplash
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