Ellen’s Baking Therapy

“I’m going to bake. Food that’s nasty Food that talks Food that walks And kills all dogs.”

So I figured that I’d make food that reflects exactly how I feel. It had to bleed on my behalf. This is a healthier way to “bleed” since I don’t encourage self harm. I haven’t been the happiest.

With bouts of on and off depression I’ve had to turn to different activities to distract myself. Now that I think about it, this is how I’ve ended up a dilettante. My seasonal interests in various fields has gained me friends,experience and the next seasons activity.

Today is a Sunday. I’m depressed. I can’t point at what has made me upset and this is how I recognise it. My friend tells me that I must remember that I own it and not the other way around. Breathing sessions after reading these words make me feel lighter but it’s not enough. I take a bowl,flour,sugar,icing sugar,cocoa powder,vegetable oil,a spatula,sprinkles and water. Ashley gave me a cake baking recipe a while ago. I search for it and use it as a guide. I’m not trying to concort a gut threatening poison.

My younger sister stands in a corner in the kitchen watching my every move. I can tell she senses my foul mood. I ignore her but occasionally offer a slight smile whenever I’m in her corner. I go back to scanning the recipe Ashley sent to me. Because of the faint ink on the recipe I actually have to squint my eyes to make the words out. I immediately notice that there isn’t enough flour to bake a cake. This increases my frustration. The thought of abandoning my only chance of a distraction upsets me. I stand leaning against the kitchen table with my back to the ingredients I had laid out on the table.

I spot a red food colorant and I feel myself light up. My muse is clearly aroused. I mix up all the ingredients with little water to match up the meagre amount of flour I did have. The colorant mixing up with the rest of the paste satisfies me immensely. The redness looks like relief. The sense in self harm begins to make sense. I decide to continue. My sister is now dangerously close to me,watching the red paste wide-eyed. At this point I am sure about what I’m creating. Muffins.

Not being a proper baker I ended up throwing stuff in especially at the point when I had to give the paste up to the oven. That’s me being clingy. That’s me not wanting to stop. Also me being a perfectionist. The wait after oven stage felt like ages. I had my earphones plugged in tightly to avoid unnecessary conversations with whoever would end up coming into the kitchen.

And today, all conversation was unnecessary. Whilst waiting I realised that I hadn’t had time to myself all week at all. With the house filled up and crowded I felt suffocated. Crowds make me feel uncomfortable plus I’m an introvert. I needed to recharge. My depression takes me places. The deepest place is always the same. I struggle with my Dad’s passing. Noone knows this. Noone notices this. I’m a careful person as much as I am protective. I do not wish fir my sorrow to raise the sorrow in others.

Jhene Aiko says “Hell is not a place.Hell is not a certain evil,hell is other people and the lack of love”. I believe this so much. I should also add that hell is also the lack of other people. The lack of my father. I haven’t written about him much since he left. I glance outside the kitchen window and spot his car. It’s the one object that I can almost feel his presence. I’m close to tears. I hold back and clear my throat. My sister is in the room,I can’t break down. Not now. Not with her in the room.

My phone lights up and I move closer to it. It’s Mom. The message reads : Sometimes I feel like she’s psychic. Like we have some sort of surreal connection. She’s my mother,my keeper. The dawning and awareness of death and loss has me afraid to love completely. I’m almost always on the guard against the pain of loving and losing. But then I guess that’s our purpose on earth: “to love and let go”- continuously on repeat. I smell sweetness in the air. I should probably check my little red creations now. I feel excited all of a sudden. Like I’ve secretly made a little surprise for myself that I’ll now reveal- to myself. I chuckle and my sister joins me as I open the oven. I had expectations,they were not quite met but that’s okay. No. That can’t be right. I’ll rephrase that. I had no expectations. This was made randomly so I’m happy with the outcome. I created maroon muffins that I have decided to name “Elfins” after myself. I am pleased.

This little project helped me to get through my potion for the day. I don’t promise that it’ll work for everybody. Especially if you have no flour at all. My whole point was to show that self harm can be substituted. You’re always free to find your own ways. Pain can be alleviated when we realise that we’re not going through any of it alone. None of us are immune to the pain of losing someone we love or something we cherish. I offer Elfins today. That’s as far as I’ve gone.


11th Hour.

Exactly 11 hours ago,I was broken. I felt I had lost myself and love. Now that’s different. I’m still here, and so is love. For myself. If I lose my mental independence and inner peace what have I left to give out? I have made better friends since my transition. I have created more meaningful acquaintances both with others and with myself. If a love I love can’t love me lovingly, then I shall not give out love. That is the real dysfunction. A life without that other person isn’t a dysfunction. It’s a separation,it’s a breakup,it’s divorce but not dysfunction. I know this now. And I am set free. I also understand that who I’ve become isn’t any mistake. I’m shaped by my experiences, hurts and triumphs. If I refuse to acknowledge this,I refuse myself and my scars. This in no way makes me a slave of my past, it makes me understand the past and move forward. It’s this that gives me peace and if I’m lying to myself then so be it. I just need to mantain my inner peace.


I know it now. I feel it. I sense guilt,isolation, pain and depression. My body has already started failing. Ironic that a lot has actually “piled” up. It hurts a lot. Like my insides can’t live in me anymore. I also sense change. Both within me and around me. My mother bruises me sometimes. I’m aware she wills the best for me and wishes me well. Perhaps I am self destructive or a bridge in re-construction. But in all this I promise this: I will love me more. And I will not hurt me more. I will heal.


So today he decided it wouldn’t work out. We had a vocal brawl and ended our love. Love. Was that what it was? Was it the tears I saw in his eyes? Love? Or perhaps the tears that later jutted out of my own?Love? No. Love was what began our separation. His love for himself. His love for his family. For his mother. He said I wasn’t suitable. That she’d never take a liking to me. Because of that one disfunction I had acquired. My lack of enthusiasm for the men of the robe. These ones wore suits but oh well,it’s all the same. Love? Is that why she said she didn’t recognise me anymore? Because that enthusiasm had faded? Have I truly faded? I lost love today. I am still not quite sure what I gave gained.

We Are Spirit Animals:For Nigel

I think the best people are met in the most casual way.

The small talk gets so busy till we have so much to say

Like,”I’ll get your number,next time”, to cover up impounding interest

Or,”You feel like Christmas “, to cover up a raging affection fest.

I think the sex is always super playful

It quickly advances faster as the time is due

More and more planned to waste time

I cannot be blamed with a man so fine…

Man…I lose my balance with you. My poetry loses its form for you. Do you hear my voice more clearly now?I wish to do the wildest with you and get more vulnerable for you. I’m usually careful with my choice of words but since you all I use with you is “Y.O.U”. I see your reluctance with love and I recognise it. It’s a familiar ditch,the safe one. I don’t blame you at all,the world is getting hotter. The warmth I find in your eyes pleases me. It’s gets even more satisfying when you show those perfect teeth dressed by a lip curve just right. Why do I adore you so? Easy. I find bits of myself in you. I understand things about myself through you. I am the most comfortable in your company. The most peaceful. Alive. I find it hard to stop with you. I never want to leave. I never want to stop jogging.

No. That’s a lie. I always stop jogging! It’s almost stimulating to watch you run away further and further from me. Apart from the view,I could almost gear myself up for the hunt of a quality prey! I just made myself laugh! We are animals of instinct,my Dearest Nigel. We are Spirit Animals, and I deem you right.

Psychosis Tributes.

Her deep hazel brown eyes open slowly…As if in revulsion against reflex she quickly shuts them again.Stillness.Then a sudden tight clench of the sheets that covered her partly frail body. She grabs at them and flinches as if in great pain. Her head begins bobbing as if moving to the tune of an upbeat song. The bobbing soon becomes violent…settles and she lies back down in an almost seductive fashion. Her eyes are wide open now. Unblinking. She releases a deep breath that can only be interpreted as exhaustion. Her golden brown curls shiver with every movement she makes. It is almost as if they are begging to be released from a crown that carries such horrendous thoughts and movements. Finally she is wide awake. In contrast to her bizarre awakening segment, she paints the widest and brightest smile.

A little girl watches her. She plasters the smile for longer and avoids scaring the little girl off.The girl must be around seven years old.She is wearing a black and white polka-dotted dress that flares wider from her body as it reaches around her knees.For some reason,her dress reminds her of a chess board.In that instance,the little girl seems to split in half and all of a sudden she actually is on a chessboard.Standing right in the middle of it.She considers calling out to the girl but remembers that she never got her name.With curses spluttered and whispered under her breath she beckons movement but finds her feet glued to the board.

Her thoughts begin to diverge for a quick comfort.It’s happening again.Just like the past few weeks.Or is it months?It really did not matter much at this point.She quickly buries her face in her hands and squarts on to the ground,whispering softly “Disappear,disappear…dis…”,over and over again.She begins to feel slightly dizzy.With the most careful consciousness she slowly slides her hands down her face and onto to mouth.She seems to say a little prayer before opening her eyes again.Now she is back in the white room.

She scans the room quickly but with apparent precision,trying to search out anything that could be familiar.She had been feeling quite new to the world recently.Everything she set her eyes on and heard brought no revelation in her mind of anything else like it.She had only read about it,but now she was convinced that she was going through jamais vu.It might be something that could easily be treated,she reasoned.

She begins to feel long fingers brush lightly on the back of her upper arm.The fingers are definitely cold.They did not hold on to her.It was a mere brush that left her with a sickening feeling that ran to the pits of her stomach. As she is about to turn her head inorder to face her monster,a loud cackle breaks out from under her bed.Her legs quickly fly on top of the bed.The thudding sound of her heartbeat and uncontrolled loud breathing seems to yell out her existence.

Loosing all form of control she lets out a piercing screech which echoes down a dark tunnel which has somehow formed in the corner of the room.She sees the silhouette that could easily be identified as belonging to the little girl with the chess-board dress. The girl is furiously motioning her to come with her. Perhaps an escape? How can a little girl be in such a nightmare? What could all this mean? Every nerve within her body tells her to stand her ground. The rest of the tunnel that is behind the little girl is now set ablaze. The urge to rescue the girl becomes a choking lump threatening to shoot out her uvula. She rashly sets herself loose and dashes for the fire glistening tunnel.

With the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end she quickly makes to grab the arm of the child and finds herself with a fistful of air. With weakening fear splattering all over her face, she collapses into her signature squat and whispers her ”chant” once more. It seems the only routine that is still constant. Within a few seconds she feels the noises and voices die down. A fresh wisp of air fondles her gently and the taste in her mouth turns bitter. An unpleasant thud continuously resonates inside her skull causing her to clasp her head ferociously. It almost seems as if her whole being is a heartbeat threatening to explode. The nurse awakens her for her meds. Finally! Relief!

At this point she almost feels a strong feeling of defiance towards the nurse. These meds can only do so much good. She was quickly deteriorating and the end was soon near. Thoughts of creating her own catastrophic end flood her thoughts then she mantains a piercing stare into the eyes of the nurse till the capsules have smoothly sled their way down her throat. A few minutes pass and with every second they menace to take her with them. The blurs thicken further and further and then… DARKNESS.

Renewal Mechanisms


In the few awesome months that I have been working for Dr. BK Jayasimha, none has had the most astounding impact on me such as this month of April when he has been pre-occupied with “Healing with the Elements”.

I have had the honor of observing a few of the changes within his mood, his physical appearance and his overall view on all he has been doing. He displayed the most courage when all his body wanted to do was lie down and sleep!On the 20th of April he left for a getaway so that he could complete the healing and renewal regime he had selected, which was with the fire and water element.
According to Dr BK Jayasimha in his

book, “My Spiritual Psychology”, “Water is the element that we spend time in metamorphosing from a single cell to a divine being…Soaking in water expands creativity,intelligence and heals emotional problems”
In respect to the fire element, which is personally my favorite,he writes that,”Fire as an element has tremendous purification powers.

Fire is the lightest element and is the only element that moves against gravity.It transforms, trans-mutates and changes form from the heaviest to the lightest.It has the power to take you from gross to subtle, from matter to pure energy.”
In all the strain that I imagine he has gone through with these renewal mechanisms he has still remained as cheerful and bubbly as he always is. I will admit, he is getting wiser as the days move along.

This is not an article to praise my Boss but rather a confirmation from a layman that his work is truly inspiring and it is more than book sales. I too have fallen in love with his work and i find myself using his books as a manual to know how to deal with certain issues in my own personal life.

From self-awareness, self-appreciation, journeying within, breathing sessions and emotional intelligence checks, the beginning of this year has been the healthiest I have endeavoured in so far. Before you purchase his books, I strongly recommend meeting up with him first, that is if ,you live in Bangalore . I promise, it is purely refreshing and worth your time!

Ellen Alexa Mubwanda