Almost Seduced Away.

It was never part of my plan today to go out in the car. Wet and grey, I preferred instead my usual Sunday of opera and reading. That was until I discovered the cashpoint in the shop was out of order which forced me to go out. I don't really need any money today but as I have a washing machine repair man coming tomorrow I needed to pay him somehow. So off I went in my little car in search of cash.

Cash secured after finally finding a place to park my mind turned to other things. And foremost of that was an overwhelming desire to drive to a country pub. It was mightily tempting but given that I did the same yesterday I fought the urge and it failed to seduce me away from my warm flat and the warm embrace of Mozart.

I'm back in now with The Magic Flute, a rolled breast of lamb slow roasting in the oven and the many tomes of The Sunday Times to entertain me. Richard is coming to partake of the lamb, he's not been over for a while.

When my thoughts turn to tomorrow I don't know. It will probably weigh heavily on my mind as I go to bed. I have to do another visit to an inpatient unit tomorrow. That is part of my job I like second least, second only to getting people detained under the Mental Health Act.

But it has been a good weekend. So lovely to see Jayne and so little stress. May the rest of the week be similar.

I Heard a Voice.

Happy Faces Convene Again.

I first met Jayne on a cold winter night in The Bell Inn Hythe in December 1994. Sat by the fire a girl of stunning, smouldering beauty gave a off a vibe of do not come near me. As I got to know her we formed a bond built out of mental illness as both of us battled our demons. Despite some setbacks in our friendship we are now both older and hopefully wiser. We enjoy good food, good wine and good culture.

For the last 24 hours we reconvened this long and cherished friendship. I took her to the Fu Hoa for ribs and crispy duck, beef and lamb hotpot and more than a few Tsing Taos. Although not a patch on her local Chinese restaurant the Phoenix she loved it. Wine and beer followed in The Hedgehog then home to talk late into the night. I slept well despite being on the floor in the front room then we had a lovely lunch at The Waggoners. Such a civilised reunion. We both hope one day that I too will return to Cambridge and the two of us can meet more regularly. In the mean time we are hoping to go to see Don Giovanni in Cambridge in April.

Back alone in my flat I'm wondering what to do. I'm not very hungry-too big a lunch-so it may just be a sandwich. Then perhaps the final episode of Inspector Morse. With luck a gentle quiet Sunday will follow and I will be refreshed for next week's battles. See you tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.

That Didn't Amount to Much.

Some in the tabloid press had dubbed it "the storm of the century". The front that had demolished the Eastern Seaboard of the USA with an unprecedented deluge of snow was due to hit the UK yesterday. No snow was expected but gales and lashing rain. Well unless I missed something that was hardly a storm. Damp yes, windy a little, unpleasant certainly but as someone who vividly recalls the Great Storm in 1987 during my Oxbridge entrance year at Lancing very little happened.

That has been the mild backdrop to another few days down the line for me. I feel okay, I'm coping okay and maybe I'm headed back to normality. Changes are afoot but I predicted that. Whether I like those chances I have yet to form a judgement. But I am back.

Back in my kitchen too. Mixed results unfortunately. The Paneer Mutter tonight was disappointingly bland. I have higher hopes for the chicken stock that is quietly bubbling away on my hob. With Jayne visiting on Friday I'm still undecided if I will try a culinary masterpiece for her or take her out. Pay day is finally upon me after the long barren month of January. I will do a final assessment on the bank account damage tomorrow. Dory will if well visit to do some cleaning tomorrow, she is so much better at it than me. She has once again been struck down by the dreaded migraines yesterday and today but she is on the mend.

Despite the poverty circumstance has taken me out in recent days more than normal. As I mentioned we had our belated Christmas dinner on Friday and last night we went to the lovely Red Lion in Hatfield for James's leaving dinner. Pub grub, inexpensive but okay was on order, a rack of ribs for me. Someone in there was clearly struggling with her mental health and there was an incident in which said young lady injured herself and the riot squad were called. I had left at that point but as ever am saddened quite had cruel mental illness can be. I did not know her or her story but I know from the behaviour she is the sort of young woman neither the police nor mental health services want to touch. I have met many of them on my journey.

On Monday I must return to an inpatient unit for a meeting. Those days are often tough. But it is just another day, a day in many and I will take each as it comes. That way maybe I can better maintain my own mental health.

I Heard a Voice.

Curiously Warm.

As the eastern seaboard of the USA freezes under huge snow falls from the storm my part of the world is strangely warm. It being Sunday I haven't really ventured out much but when I did I was pleasantly surprised.

In my flat it has been a regular Sunday. The paper, Mozart and a little blogging. A chicken is on the menu tonight. I did invite my friend Jeni but she is unwell so we will have to meet another day. I got up a little earlier but it didn't make me feel less anxious. That sense of tomorrow is Monday does not feel great. The plan is to work full time next week and see how we go.

Sometimes I wonder where all this anxiety comes from. It was never really a part of my life until I went through the summer of 2007 when I knew that I had to uproot my entire life to come here and everything that could go wrong did go wrong. And debt was the result that took years to combat. Much as I feel I need to move on from my life as it is that brings even greater fears. Yet there are fears of staying put.

4 years have now gone by since I wrote my piece on here entitled "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" I still feel the latter weighing heavily on me but nothing that I have done since has allowed me to change. I live in the same place, have the same job and remain at a crossroads with no signs to guide me. So the best I can do is take each day as it comes, try to switch off when necessary and bide my time. Biding time can be frustrating but things do move in life so let us hope the fates shine a light on me soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Shortened Days.

After a week in which I alternated long then short days it was never really my intention that today would be as short as it was. Whilst I feel infinitely better than I did this time a week ago I must have been tired as once again I didn't wake up until lunch time. It wasn't a bad week and last night I went out with the disability team for a delayed Christmas dinner at The Three Horseshoes. Relaxed, affordable and not bad I had a nice evening. No pretensions with them.

With half the day gone I pottered into town. Spent some of my Christmas bonus card on books-Waterstones may see a lot of me in coming weeks-some Ernest Hemingway in A Moveable Feast and Matt Haig's best seller Reasons to Stay Alive. The latter came highly recommended by Ros. Who knows when I will get chance to read them but as the NFL seasons draws towards its finale my available time will increase immeasurably. I did a little shopping but once again failed to make it to the butcher as there was nowhere to park. Back at home I did a little cleaning and now have West Ham on TV-Charlie is at Upton Park. Talking of Charlie he text today to confirm he has got us tickets for Pakistan at Lord's in July.

My culinary delights this evening once again come from the Middle East. Layers of potato, lamb, onions, aubergines and tomatoes doused with a marinade of olive oil, oregano, water and tomato puree. It smells delicious although given past disasters I'm always wary of recipes that require me to cover it in tin foil. We will see. Tomorrow I will roast a chicken and serve with a niceglass of Chardonnay.

After supper I think a film. Do I do The Hundred Foot Journey or Death at a Funeral which Beka gave me for Christmas? I will decide after the lamb. Take care everyone and chat again soon.

I Heard a Voice.

An Arab Touch.

When I began writing my blog back in 2010 the agony that is now Syria had not started. True the Middle East was in turmoil but the Arab Spring was not on anyone's mind and Syria seemed quiet to us over here.

My brief travels to the Middle East took me to Jordan in 1997. It was a life changing experience for me as I fought hard to emerge from a 7 years battle with mental illness. During my ill fated attempt to carve a career in teaching 3 years later I saw an advert for a job in Aleppo in Syria. At that point in my life it seemed most alluring. I had been struck by the "Arabness" and tribalism. Seem to contradict? Maybe, maybe not. I simply don't understand that part of the world. Yet as you all well know my means of culture, of understanding, of sharing and of togetherness is through my love of food and cooking.

Today after a not very long but very tiring day I resisted the overwhelming urge to avoid my kitchen and go out again and opened a book on the food of Lebanon, Syria and Jordan. I adapted it all a bit but lean strips of lamb fillet were marinaded in baharat, garlic, chilli, parsley, coriander and olive oil. These were then seared on a hot griddle and served on a Lebanese salad dressed with lemon juice, olive oil, mint and coriander. The result was stunning. Food can brings peace if only for a little while. That seems to have been forgotten as the world battles with the outcome of the turmoil and agony that engulfs that part of the world.

I am powerless to do anything about that. Today I also felt powerless in my little world. Seeing the tears of someone so low and being able to do nothing to assuage them. Did I do some good today? I don't know. Did I do the best I could? I think so. Tomorrow is another day.

I Heard a Voice.

That Day Again.

Here we are again, that day in which mum lurks in my mind and pops out when I have time to reflect. Earlier I looked back on previous posts marking her birthday. On each occasion I marvelled at how fast time has gone by. Today she would have been 84.

When she was alive I never realised how significant it was when she would tell me the days that would have been my grandparents' birthdays. Nor indeed the anniversaries of their deaths. We only learn that through experience. They say nothing can prepare one for the loss of a parent. "They" are right. My friends James and Georgina are learning that now in the wake of Sue's death.

It is very hard to look back on mum's life and not feel sad at how unhappy she was. Not just in the latter years when her mental state deteriorated but before as well. She never seemed to settle but when things calmed down she had an amazing ability to marvel at the simple beauty that lies in the nature around us. Her garden, her love of birds, and that love of the sea which claimed her in the end.

That beauty outlasts us all but we can glimpse. My travels yesterday took me back to the lake near my old office. Tinged with ice on a cold sunny winter morning nature looked peaceful. There was no sign of the heron but in those short moments in what has been a torrid few months for me I saw that beauty. It was a beauty I learned from mum.

So on this day where ever she may be Happy Birthday to mum.

I Heard a Voice.

Night Time Deception.

My battles with dreams have long been documented on here. In the main things have got much better since I gave up smoking but sometimes they come back. Nightmares are rare now but those mornings when I wake anxious are more prevalent. But the cruellest of all are those nights is when I dream that I can't sleep.

It was one of those nights just as I knew I had to wake up early for the first time in a while. The dream deceiver convinced me that I was tossing and turning unable to go under and so I woke exhausted. Given that the pre emptor of my recent downturn was a true night of tossing and turning and failing to sleep today did not start well.

I made it through the day despite. Yes I'm tired but nowhere near the level of Saturday. Nothing disastrous happened and I wasn't put under pressure. True I failed to cook once again but it wasn't a bad day.

Now I'm thinking of what will be tomorrow for it would have been mum's birthday. I always think of her on that day. Who wouldn't? I will be sad and I will reflect. Again the theme of the living and dead plays large in my mind. Death is part of life and if one can accept that it becomes easier. But when death is sudden and unexpected it is so hard to make sense of. It is true that mum died suddenly nearly 4 years ago. But given how poor her health had been in the last years of her life, coming to terms may have been made easier. And those of us left do the best we can every day. Some days we win, some we don't. But we all go on.

I Heard a Voice.

Flecked With Snow.

When I finally emerged from my flat into a cold night there were small flurries of snow. A regular from The Hedgehog confidently ignored my suggestion and insisted it will not snow. So this morning the ground was covered in an inch or so of snow. It has been a long time since we saw snow in these parts. Nothing too disruptive though, it is melting away to nothing as I write. But it shows me winter is here and here for a while.

After the wipe out that was yesterday I made it up earlier and felt somewhat better. In fact looking back yesterday was a harder day than I realised. My usual Sunday is in full swing. My dreams were marked by subconscious thoughts on what opera to listen to today. In the end Handel's Rodelinda won out. The paper is partially read and the shoulder of pork went in a little while ago for a long slow cook.

What will be of the week? As I feel now manageable I hope. If I feel like yesterday it doesn't bode well for the next stage of my phased return. There is a night out planned for Tuesday, James's leaving dinner. I will not stay long but will attend for a while. My lovely friend Jayne called from Cambridge yesterday and we have arranged for her to visit in a couple of weeks. I will look forward to that. My annual trip to Miriam's for the Super Bowl with Nigel is but 3 weeks away. Then the dark gloom of February and March will battle for my soul and mood, I find those months tough. I will for the time being try to stick to the twin mantras of a day at a time and did I do some good today. I think I did on Friday and then yesterday was a write off. But I will keep trying.

See you in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

That's Enough for Today.

As I feared after my efforts to return to work last week today has been a complete write off. Desperately tired I staggered out of bed at midday, I could so easily have turned over and gone back to sleep, and quickly decided to cancel today. I real really bad for missing Katherine's party but I'm simply not up to it.

The most I achieved today was surviving a busy supermarket and getting my haircut. On a day of nothing I really should return to my kitchen but it is not to be. I've had enough for the day.

So a quiet night of cricket highlights-what a performance by England today- and Inspector Morse. Let us hope tomorrow is better. It will not be long before I'm back in the stress. The plan is to alternate full then part days next week. I need to find some energy from somewhere. Sleep, more sleep.

In my quiet though I will still think of Katherine and Trapper, the living and the dead.

I Heard a Voice.

Staring in the Mirror.

They buried Izzi today. I do not know who "they" are never having met her partner, family or friends. It would have been a challenge to get to an unknown place for the service and who would want to see a stranger whose connection was linked the the darker side of her life? We were drawn together by madness and reflected that in each other. So much makes me think of her and I'm still struggling to acknowledge that she is really gone.

Us "crazies" as she called us stick together and mirror one another. The great challenge of working in my business coming from where I do is how do I react when I see myself reflected in those I treat? So many of us are in the business but we keep it secret. Well I don't but those who train are ordered to stay secret. Many a time with a mental health nursing student, or trainee social worker I have to ask how they will deal with it when they see themselves in the mirror? I was reminded of that by someone I saw earlier in the week. And on this day by Izzi.

Tomorrow we remember Trapper but once again I will do it from afar. For all his battles with MS that ultimately killed him he loved to party. And those that know him will party long and hard tomorrow in a hotel down in Sussex. I will be in London.

Well I will be if energy allows me. I survived a full week of limited days. The price I pay is not enough food, simply haven't been able to bring myself to cook. Tonight it was simply duck salad. I will do more hours next week, will I cope? It has been so long since my working life was normal I still fear a full on return. But it must happen at some point.

James left his job in our department today. I will miss him, he is a lot of fun. No doubt we will meet in The Horse and Groom at some point. I wonder if I will ever get my wish and move on? I've been saying that for nearly 4 years. Sadly life doesn't always go to plan. I must recall the living as well as the dead and march onward serenely or shakily one way or another.

I Heard a Voice.

Ashes to Ashes.

I could not let today go by without mentioning the death of David Bowie. Media both social and mainstream is awash with tributes to this remarkably talented, elusive and chameleon man who has lit up the lives of so many including myself.

Miriam introduced me to David Bowie in 1983. Late in the day I know but his music accompanied so much of my life both before and after my madness. She took me to see him in 1989 when he said it was the last time he would play his old and great music. He never really kept that promise and the world is better for it. 1989, a year before my life went so drastically wrong.

I have spoken before of how music and words are woven into people's madness. The words from The Bewley Brothers "he's chameleon, comedian, Corinthian and caricature". I became a caricature during my madness. The words of All the Madmen from The Man Who Sold the World; they were the words that led me to seek out Izzi in person. And what madman cannot marvel at Rock and Roll Suicide?

My words are too little to describe a man who was a living legend for so long. And now like others before him including my other great hero Bob Marley he is gone. Some years ago driving a young student back to her car after a psychiatric assessment she asked me what music I liked. When I suggested I listened to a lot of David Bowie, Bob Marley and Pink Floyd she simply said "I've never heard of them". Maybe you have heard now.

I survived another day. Even avoided being chastised by my dentist. What will tomorrow bring? Who knows.

I Heard a Voice.

Chilly and Crisp.

The best way to describe today is that it is distinctly colder. The grey that has so often blighted the last few weeks has disappeared and the cool crisp air in pale winter sunlight is a pleasant change. I took my Sunday afternoon walk today for the first time in a while. Very pleasant although muddy in places. Not a day to be walking in the woods.

With this change of climate I find myself a lot more relaxed than of recent days. You will recall I was not in a good place when I posted before. The seething anger and powerlessness has abated replaced by a quiet air of contemplation. Puccini's Turandot plays after some Vivaldi earlier. The reading is good and my mind is fairly peaceful.

The big question is will I still feel like this on the morrow? As ever the weekend has gone far quicker than I had hoped. The hours march on towards roast duck then the next 2 NFL playoff games. I've not watched last night's recordings yet although in the days of mass media it has been impossible not to find out who won.

Next weekend brings Katherine's 40th birthday. We met doing the PGCE in 1999 and like me teaching didn't really work out for her. Careers? Who would have them? My thoughts still flit to doing something different. As lottery fever gripped the UK over the weekend with a jackpot of over £60 million I was not really tempted. What on earth would one do with that amount of money? Sounds great but I bet it would create more problems than is solves. Good luck to those who won.

Time now to return to my afternoon's reading. See you all in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

Why Did I Bother?

It didn't take long before expectation and reality had a mighty collision back at the ranch. My last post was upbeat, I did something important. The challenge comes when there are multiple needs and only one of me. I was so exhausted after Thursday I nearly didn't go in yesterday. But I did.

All was okay until 3 pm when I got caught in an almighty row about who would deliver a bag of clothes to a student in hospital. I am supposed to be doing a phased return but it seems some people just assume I will do things as I'm in the building.

I do not know the outcome of the row but I do know I seethed all of last night and can't empty my mind this afternoon. My instinct is just to say fuck it and go back on sick leave. It has made me much more anxious about going in next week. I cannot be in more than one place at a time. An assumption that I will deal with the shit has gone on too long.

Inevitably those in charge want a review. But we cannot prepare for every eventuality. I am tired and no longer want to know. Deep down part of me wants to walk away from Mental Health. It will follow me of course, we cannot cure my illness but there is a breaking point. After yesterday I almost feel back at that point.

So how to rescue the weekend? I have food in to cook, pork for today and roast duck for tomorrow. The NFL playoffs start tonight and continue tomorrow. But tomorrow brings me a day closer to Monday and I want to avoid that at all costs.

I Heard a Voice.

Finding Words

Some people believe I'm quite good with words. Good enough to be published twice. Good enough for nearly 32,000 hits on here. Good enough that some claim I have helped many students through my words.

In my darkness that afflicted my 20s few other than Caroline the healer ever found words to help me. I was so disillusioned with "therapy" as it hadn't worked and was then turned round on me. Effectively they told me you are the problem not madness. In my disillusioned state I firmly believed that salvation could only come in the form of pills. Despite waiting a decade I did find the pills in the end.

My career such as it is has been driven by a raging anger to prove to them that my whole life was not a delusion. I was not a narcissist. And I am intelligent. After more than a decade working with words in the last few months I had lost faith in my own words. Disillusion haunts my every day. Yet on I went.

Despite my fear I returned to work yesterday. I had no confidence and was so anxious that I feared I would not make it through the day. Not much happened. Then today came and I had to find words. And those words came, came in their torrents and a connection was made. For that I am thankful. I had to be at my best in the most difficult of circumstances. I do not think I was found wanting. Is faith restored? Maybe. But I did it.

The price I pay is exhaustion. Once again I'm drawn to me default of Yang and the Fu Hao. I can't think enough to cook myself.

I Heard a Voice.

Escaping the Mud.

After my unexpected mud and rain soaked trip to Kent I am back. The rain disappeared the further north west the train travelled. Back here in Hertfordshire it is quite nice. Home now trying to take in the last few months.

Illness, exhaustion, death, holidays, new year, it has been anything but quiet for me during that time. Sue's funeral went to plan. There was a fairly good turn out although perhaps not as many as I thought. A Catholic service is not too familiar to me and I was somewhat taken aback when the priest declared that only those free from sin could take communion...and only Catholics of course. Does a sinless person exist? Faith can be strange at times to the uneducated.

I discovered the other day that Izzi's funeral will be on the 15th. I remain stunned by her passing, we had planned to meet during the holiday. As I know none of her family, her partner or her friends I will not be in attendance. But I will be remembering on the day. Another mentally ill friend gone too young.

All will be over tomorrow. Work beckons although I'm still not yet certain what is expected of me during a phased return. There was talk of going to Occupational Health. A couple of years ago I would have relished their support. But those I knew are all gone and a new team is very unknown to me. Whatever happens the anxiety has not gone away.

Day 4 of the Test has just ended. Barring something strange a draw beckons. Of more importance the 1st black South African to score a century is being rightly lauded. Elsewhere in my sporting world my beloved Rams filed for relocation back to Los Angeles today. Having spent 50 years in that city before a bizarre move to St Louis in 1995 many hope they will go home. A storied team less talked of than others because of just 3 championships Los Angeles must be where they will go. Who knows about the chances of the Raiders and Chargers who have also filed to relocate. I await a result.

In the hours I have left before the return I'm not sure what to do. Some Beethoven perhaps? Or a film? Or Inspector Morse? I'm 2 episodes from the end of my journey through his history.

I Heard a Voice

Vile Outlook.

For those of us who live in the south of England despite the incessant grey gloom of recent weeks we have been very lucky. Those in the north have been deluged by storm after storm and there is huge debate on the future of flood defences across the country. Today no one is lucky. It is truly vile out there with pouring rain and gusty winds. It has kept me indoors all day.

Well much of the day was spent sleeping. Still my big snooze goes on as the days tick by for that feared return. In reality I should be in Hertfordshire preparing for a return tomorrow. Instead I'm in Kent preparing for a funeral in the morning. Those deaths of friends recently have hit me harder than usual as I have been struggling so much day to day. That doubt, that lack of self belief, that questioning of all I believed has been plaguing me for months now. Is it possible to walk away? Of course not, I have to live.

My mind remains empty at times, that sense of nothing. At others I worry about the smallest thing. And time ticks by just as the rain falls outside in the dark

When I get home I must once again turn to my mood diary; it won't be very upbeat. Today is a nothing day, 0 or possibly -1. Maybe that will change by bed time. I must rise early tomorrow as the funeral service begins at 10 am. If I recall from previous Catholic services it can go on some time.

I Heard a Voice.

Late Night, Late Morning.

So here we are. 2016. The grey and rain continue and outside is not very inviting. It was very late when I got to bed, nigh on 3 am and exceptionally late that I emerged, gone 1 pm. It has been a day of tiredness, nausea, boredom, listlessness and wondering what is going on. Why do we drink so much to celebrate?

In truth I didn't drink a huge amount but probably stayed for one too many. Judging by the handful of texts I have received today everyone is feeling a little delicate too. I really ought to eat something. My plan was to have a nice lunch of smoked cod and a gentle afternoon. The cod was ghastly, no flavour at all and that pretty much reinforced my view of today. Back to bed might have been a better idea.

It will change though. Nothing ever stays the same in my life. The building of anxiety about my return on Wednesday has already started. Can I cherish the days before? I hope so. My travels take me back to Kent tomorrow; seems only yesterday that I came home.

Despite the inauspicious self inflicted start I do certainly wish all my readers out there a very Happy New Year and have a prosperous 2016. Back soon.

I Heard a Voice.