Bar Cookies Will Have To Do

In most of my writing endeavors, short stories, chapters of my work in progress, or whatever–I rarely struggle with writer’s block. I have more ideas than I have time or headspace to flesh them out. Some of them I hold close and revisit later, and others I let slip away. The past two weeks: Nothing. Nada. Zero, Zilch. Nope.

The reason isn’t mysterious. I know exactly why my creativity is muted–I’m depressed. I can point to no trigger. Nothing in my life went wrong. I’m just in a slump. It’s a fairly low-grade slump, not paralyzing enough to incapacitate me, but it’s knocked the wind out of my proverbial sails.

Activities that I usually enjoy lose their appeal in times like these, reading and baking included. When I wander into the kitchen, I’m easily overwhelmed or have a difficult time following a recipe. That’s definitely been true the past couple of weeks. The thought of trying something new for the blog was tantamount to running a 5k in platform heels. So I didn’t try anything new.

It’s not to say I’ve done no baking. I’ve made a couple batches of cookies, (chocolate chip and chocolate crinkles), mostly because an event called for snacks. But believe me, there’s been no spun sugar or marzipan at chez LeMaster.

Last night I was overjoyed to find a cookie bar recipe that was so simple that you mixed it up with your hands–no creaming anything, sifting flour, or rotating pans. I nearly cried in relief; it was something to set out for my company tonight, and something I could write about. But there was nothing to write about. Nothing. I also forgot to take pictures. Welp.

I have to let a couple of things go. First, I must accept that I’m not always going to bring my A-game to the kitchen. Second, I’m not going to always have great content to post. If my content is directly dependent on my mental stability, then what and when I write will fluctuate. I don’t like that. I like certainty. I like routines. Unfortunately, mental illness doesn’t keep banker’s hours or coordinate schedules–it strikes rather willy nilly.

There is no shame in just making cookies. There is absolutely no shame in making bar cookies squished by hand. There is no shame in me buying a try of cookies from Kroger. You do the best you can do and hold your head high.

Have you had a similar experience? What do you think?

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