Note to self: don't use yoghurt as a substitute. Sour taste overpowers the browned butter. Perhaps mascarpone next time. Recipe follows kiwi cupcakes. However, half of the butter is taken to be browned while half is creamed with light muscovado sugar. Is there a dark one? If so, next time I'll try that. Maybe caramelise the sugar while browning the butter. Also as with all recipes now, yolks and whites are separated.
I don't really know how I'm doing.
Kinda feel like a squeaky toy with a broken squeaker. I really miss being who I really am, the person I normally am. Sometimes she appears. But when she goes, she goes much farther than I can bear.
I didn't realise quite how fragile I am. Really thought I was a stronger person. People have gone through a lot worse than I have and come through looking unscathed, come through stronger.
I didn't expect that half a year of a nightmare and the few months after that of emotional abuse to have such a lasting effect on me. Perhaps I already was still healing; vulnerable. I'd hate to think I really were that weak. I actually thought I'd dealt really well. But then the really weird thoughts started coming. Really weird thoughts and feelings. Thoughts and feelings that I couldn't recognise, that couldn't possibly be mine. Who do they belong to? Return to sender. I bar you from coming back. Kinda symptoms of PTSD. Nuts. How can I go from days of being so happy and feeling normal to suddenly so low and on the verge of tears. This is not me.
I thought the cloud had lifted and I was myself again. But it seems to only have been a temporary reprieve. The disjointedness appears at random moments.
Who does this belong to? Return to sender.
I release and refuse all connections to others that do not raise my vibrations.
Return to sender.
I really don't know what's going on in here. I can see why people can agree to getting their brains scrambled with electricity. I can tolerate this confusion now but anymore and, yep, can totally see why a person would agree to getting scrambled brains.
"Your shoes fall apart because your foundation is falling apart"....maybe my foundations were weak sauce and need demolishing so I can build better, stronger foundations.
It's tough to be a parent of a young child weak with the flu. But I believe it's tougher to be an adult child of a parent weak with the flu.
As the parent, you know your young child will only get stronger as the years go by and these bouts of weakness will get less and less.
As the adult child, you know these bouts will not get less and less.
Sitting here, listening to my 62 (and 2 days!) year old mum trying to sleep while wracked with coughs, I can't help but feel a little blue and perhaps a little melodramatic.
This, to me, is the worst thing about growing up.
Knowing mortality.
Trying this program out today.
An interesting note: when I yawn or do whatever to increase the pressure in my ears, the beats sound like they speed up and slow down immediately when I stop. So fun.
Also a great cure for a hangover.
