Endings, Beginnings and Change.

And so we come to the final post of the year. This will be my eighth final post since I nervously started broadcasting my musings, trials, tribulations and triumphs. 2010 seems a lifetime ago now but it is barely anything in the grander scheme of the world. Time marches and we must march with it.

Looking back it has been a year in which anxiety became my enemy on a more regular basis, my mood held up in the main and I survived what passes for my life. I'm very pleased that for a second year I was not felled by relapse despite what life has thrown at me.

None more so than in recent days since dad has been unwell. I'm used to caring for the mentally ill but caring in another sense is entirely new to me. Did I learn briefly what it is like to be a parent? Not sure I qualify for that as I only did it a short while. However challenging it may have been for me for dad it is the real fight. A few days removed from that terrible night in A&E slowly he is moving forward. Like many of us it is tempting to rush but that must not be done.

Various kind friends have or will be dropping in on him. I managed to drive home yesterday. Given the last few days I'm relieved I booked the extra week off work.

As New Year's Eve falls on a Sunday I feel compelled to roast something. Unusually for me it is a loin of pork. I got to the butcher quite late and that was all they had prepared. Currently in the oven I never tire of the wondrous smell of pork cooking. Gary and Ali will join me. It is tempting to open the champagne in the fridge as it is a celebration. But I don't fancy my chances of making it through tomorrow if I start that early.

I have just booked tickets for Sarah and me to go to Star Wars on Wednesday. I had hoped to go last year but was full of cold and didn't think people would appreciate me coughing and sneezing in the cinema. Not sure what I will do the rest of the week.

Having reflected on what has been, should I muse on what is to come? Change maybe but I'm not sure what. I have been through a lot of change in recent years which at times seems to have made life harder. So can I affect change for the better in 2018? I do hope so.

May I wish you all a Happy and Prosperous New Year. Thanks for reading and see you tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.

Setting Sun, Rising Moon.

The sun is going down on a cold clear winter's day. An eerie fire lights up the horizon. What a 24 hours it has been. My nightly drive in freezing conditions was lit up by a giant yellow half moon. The day after I cannot tell which direction I was going in in my terror of night driving in bad conditions. But it was a comfort to me.

I came home from meeting Beth to find dad had fallen. He was confused but not hurt. I waited two hours for an ambulance. Driving up an hour or so later I was greeted by A&E carnage and dad very ill. They told me he was well enough to go home so I came to get some clothes and drove back. But that was the end of the line. Feeling desperately alone in the chaos my mind thought also of what it must have been for dad. He did not come out last night. I got back to the flat at 4 am.

Now home I am somewhat bewildered as to what to do next. They are arranging carers thank goodness but it doesn't stop my feeling of utter powerlessness.

I refuse to criticise the hard working hospital staff. Nor will I compare it with a war zone as some might, we have medicines and staff and facilities and we are not being bombed. What I saw was heroic and exhausted staff trying to stop the whole thing falling apart.

Relieved to be home but still worried. He is a little better but a long way to go. I'm staggered by the many messages of support I have received.

What I crave more than anything is sleep. I also probably need to get Risperidone inside me. So tired but must remain vigilant.

Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

Winter's Closing in on Every Side.

Not a nice day out there in the big wide world. Icy wind, freezing rain and flurries of sleet pervade the air down at the seaside. Certainly not a day for a walk as I had planned. I'm feeling a little edgy over whether to risk the drive home tomorrow, from what I hear there is much more snow up there.

Back in the warm of dad's flat he continues to struggle. I have no idea what is wrong with him but he keeps getting the very intense shakes. Not something I have ever seen a virus do. Although he's not said much it seems a little frightening. Not sure what the chances are of getting a doctor out today or tomorrow. Or indeed what they might be able to do. He seems deeply concerned he hasn't felt well enough to go out and get his paper. I should have done it really but not sure of its chances of survival in this when I went out without a plastic bag.

My plan to see Beka today has been abandoned. She too remains unwell and very helpfully pointed out that she really doesn't want to pass this illness on to me. I am however going out to meet Beth at 4 pm. She has a new partner who apparently is keen to meet me. Always makes me wonder why.

That I'm memorable to some was evident last night. Out for a beer with my old friend Anders I bumped into my former housemate from JB's Luke. He introduced me to his girlfriend who said she remembered me from years ago when I used to sometimes go to The Frenchman and as bar manager she used to chuck us out at the end of the night. I don't recall although it was kind of her to describe me as one of the nicer customers. Not sure I've been in that pub in the last fifteen years.

My mind needs to slow down. It has been relatively still since I got down here. Now with thoughts of dad being unwell and snow stopping me going home it is stirring. Please do not go into overdrive now. Illness aside though it has been good to be away.

If I'm to stick to my avowed intention to write no more than twelve posts a month I only have one left. But to hit an average of twelve I still have one to play with. I'm not sure when I will see you all again but until then wrap up warm, stay safe and take care. I will try very hard too.

I Heard a Voice.

Only the Cheese to Go.

Happy Christmas everyone!!!!! Hope you're all having a marvellous day with friends and family. It's blowing a gale here in east Kent but not too cold and the rain held off.

I'm feeling very fat with two courses down and only the cheese to go. Things did not go as smoothly as we hoped, dad and Beka both unwell so we were down to four for lunch. But we made a heroic effort between us and there is not quite as much left as I feared. That said we could probably have fed another three to four people.

Getting to Christmas was a long time coming. Slowly I'm recharging my batteries away from the University. Come New Year I will have to gird up my loins and face another gruelling battle. Thinking back all those years when I fought so hard to get a job it felt as if a job would be the final piece of the recovery puzzle. Of course now I know the puzzle is forever changing shape and is never quite complete.

The plan such as it is is to stay here until Thursday. That may change if dad remains unwell. I keep telling him to go to bed but he's still sleeping on the sofa. Let us hope he feels better soon.

And with that I leave my kind readers. Hope you have all enjoyed the day and I wish you well for the coming year.

I Heard a Voice.

PS And now to the cheese!

Through the Fog to East Kent.

Greetings from the seaside. A blanket of fog enveloped east Kent as I drove up the motorway slipway and arrived in Hythe. Despite that I made good progress and it only took me 1 hour 45 minutes. Looking at how the tunnel was going the other way I'm glad I was headed south and not back home to the north.

I have escaped the world that is work and can now focus on recuperating and chilling. My anxiety is at bay thank goodness. My wait for the boiler man on Tuesday was not in vain. He was very friendly and explained a lot. Over the years in that flat many have come to look and all give me different explanations as to what is wrong. This man was no different. He assured me after doing some things it was fine yet two days later it is once again losing pressure. I'm not too concerned at this stage but I just wish they would rip the whole thing out and start again.

Away from tedious domestic problems I have my week in Hythe ahead of me. The first person I saw on arrival was not exactly who I would have wanted to see but was a reminder that during my dark times in the 1990s many others didn't get out and still roam the streets aimlessly guzzling the cheapest coffee they can find and chain smoking roll ups. I did that once.

Have I moved on that far? I hope so although on the days when the darkness once again threatens me I have my doubts.

Dad still has his lingering cold and what looks like a chest infection. GP told him to try antibiotics but he's not keen. Let's hope it lifts before the big day.

Partridge is on the menu tonight. I will roast a brace I spotted in the window of the butcher stuffed with bay and thyme. Stupidly I forgot to buy bacon to wrap it but we will survive. Tomorrow we food shop in earnest. I have completed my Christmas shopping and now look ahead with not a lot of enthusiasm to wrapping, a task I detest and am singularly bad at.

See you some time in the next few days.

I Heard a Voice.

Unexpected Home Time

The morning mist was still hanging onto the surface of Stanborough lakes as I drove back through glorious winter sunshine. What a beautiful sight. When I went to bed last night having still not heard from Kevin the plumber I could not have predicted that today would start as it did and I would be home and writing on here.

Given my recent edginess the last thing I needed was to wake up to no water. Eventually I managed to ascertain that a water main had burst. I well recall mum's fear back in Cannongate Road on the days the water company switched off supplies for maintenance. My anxiety went through the roof as I drove in, never quite knowing can be so crippling.

I'd only been in a short while when I heard from the boiler people who told me they are coming this morning. Cue dash back home to an uncertain morning. Buoyed by the winter beauty I was hugely relieved to discover the water is back on. Now all I have to do is wait for the boiler man. Let us hope he comes soon.

After work I'm going for a drink with colleagues at The Red Lion. They are having a Christmas dinner but I elected not to eat. Instead when I get home a small rump steak awaits and will do some oven chips. Perhaps a glass of Rioja to go with it.

Tomorrow is my last day at work. I'm going to The Neem Tree with Sarah after finishing. That should be fun. She hasn't been well but is I hope on the mend now. Then on Thursday morning I brave the M25 and head to dad's for a week. Will be good to get away.

Once the anxiety has been shifted I'm hoping my mood will rise. It's not low but the constant worry can take its toll and lead me to dark places.

See you all soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Waiting on a Wet Day.

The rain has been coming down steadily here since I got up. Not as cold as it has been recently nevertheless the world looks pretty gloomy. You find me waiting for a call that will come, I just don't know when. After a difficult start to the week the rest has been tense with the boiler threatening to go out at any moment. That is not conducive to a restful weekend. So I wait for Kevin the plumber's call who will no doubt tell me the whole thing needs replacing. A sense of calm does not pervade me today.

Don Giovanni plays which provides a nice distraction. A plate of sprats sufficed for lunch and I have chicken to roast later. My plan had been for Gary and Ali to come round and eat it with me. Sadly he has a stomach bug so they have cancelled.

I'm debating whether to go for a pint at The White Horse. Should I do that no doubt Kevin will call when I'm driving, it was ever thus.

Only three days of work remain before my well needed holiday. Thursday and Friday were not particularly easy there. More crises and demands that are impossible to sate. I simply cannot get people detained under the Mental Health Act just like that. There is process for very good reason. I followed process and that was all I could do.

Spoke with dad last night and he is full of cold. Let's hope he picks up soon. Ros made it to the end of term and got her well deserved glass of wine on Thursday. I joined her by proxy and had a glass too. I'm catching up with Sarah on Wednesday before I head off to Kent.

I will see what tomorrow brings, hopefully some stability and calm. Just can't seem to quell this constant low level of fear. It's not crippling today as it was on Tuesday but it is very tiring. With luck when I escape that fear will be put aside at least for a while.

Keep going out there on this dull day, the holiday is not far off.

I Heard a Voice.

Literary, Musical and Culinary Respite.

A A Gill has provided the literature, Beethoven the music and that wonderful place Kerala the culinaria. On an uneven day it is good that I have the mechanisms to switch off from whatever a sometimes hostile world throws at me.

The great anxiety of yesterday disappeared as suddenly as it came despite a dream addled night. The thaw is underway although my walk to a meeting in town was precarious. So far so good. Then back at the ranch more things to make me feel an inadequate failure. I get that things can be tense when we are all under pressure but the way in which things are sometimes communicated does not always help.

But that part of the day is over. We drift ever closer to the end of a long term. My lovely friend Ros has been messaging me today which I always like but is feeling despondent. My thoughts are with you Ros and enjoy the wine when you get there tomorrow.

My recent forays into A A Gill have been both delightful and humbling. Did ever a man write so passionately of the savagery and love of both humanity and nature? Accosted as I was by people today on my way to lunch almost demanding I give to their cause which they yelled in an accusatory way was "refugees". Gill's writing on the subject humbles and shames me. That might stimulate me more to act rather than a hostile, salesman approach I witnessed today.

That I live is such a peaceful place where I can buy and read books, listen to Beethoven and cook the food of others is testament to how lucky we are here in the UK. Many will never get that chance. But we cannot let culture die. It makes us better people.

So on this December night with the rain coming down think of that. We are lucky, very lucky. I need to recall that better on the dark days when I feel so attacked. Mental illness has not always bequeathed me the greatest suit of armour but it has given me the ability to at least try to help my fellow people. And sometimes I get it very right. And sometimes very wrong. I am thus flawed.

More soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Admitting Defeat.

I have been worrying about today for some time. Why did I agree to sing when my confidence is shot through? The day dawned as the sun was coming up. Yes the sun has appeared after the bitter cold of recent days. I did go back to bed but slept only sporadically. A world of icy treachery awaits anyone going out. Fear pervaded my mind until finally I admitted defeat and got up.

Defeat not just for sleep but also for singing. Maybe it is an excuse. Maybe I never wanted to go in the first place. But discretion can be the better part of valour so I abandoned the idea of London and cancelled. How and when I can come back from this setback only time will tell. Is singing over forever? Is my anxiety as crippling as it feels today? At this stage I do not know the answer to those questions.

So what to do. I did gingerly wander out to see the state of play. Even the busses are struggling today. There was a queue of three of them backed up at the corner. I will leave my car well alone until tomorrow when I will return to work. An unexpectedly extra long weekend.

Hard to believe but this is my 1000th post on my blog since I started back in September 2010. My initial thought was that it might be a way of generating some interest in my book. I have long since given up my books, proud that I wrote them but disappointed how hard it has been to convince people to read them. They did serve their purpose though.

When my broadband finally came back to life last night I picked up an e mail from an academic asking if it is okay to reference my books in an academic paper. How nice is that? There must be something in them after all.

None of this solves what I'm going to do today. I suspect it will merely be staring at the TV and wasting my life away.

Be careful not to fall in the icy conditions, it's not worth breaking bones for the sake of getting on with daily life.

I Heard a Voice.

No Country Pub Today.

The white hue of snow litters the landscape and a tinge of gloom covers my day. It is not a day for going out. You may recall how fond I am of finding a country pub on a Sunday afternoon but not today.

Sitting in the warm I have partially read the paper, Handel's Orlando plays and the heating is holding out. It feels a strange day long removed from when I was last at work but not long until I must return there. I have my car back although it cost rather more than I'd anticipated. But nowhere to go on this cold day.

Both mornings this weekend have started with dreams of mum. I do not know why but as was so often the case in life it left me feeling edgy and anxious. At times she exuded that feeling. Not least from her own fears that were so prominent in the latter stages of her life. More than five years have gone since she went so suddenly. We are all that bit older and trying to keep pace with the marching excess of time.

Another year is nearly over. These are the first snows in these parts for a few years. What has this past year brought me? Hard to say really but I'm not in the desolate place of two years ago when my mind went into meltdown and so many of my friends died. In the week was the anniversary of Sue's death. In another week or so we will remember Izzi. I miss them both. In that short time of the academic year 2015-2016 I used up a fifth of my holiday on funerals. I'm pleased to say I've avoided them since.

We are coming to the end of the game season. Tonight I will once again roast a pheasant to celebrate the marvels of seasons and nature. I will be alone but that is okay. Today I quite like my own company now the initial fear has subsided.

I will work tomorrow then sing on Tuesday. Each brings its own doubts but I will survive; I always do. Take care out there in the snow and ice and I'll see you all soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Undue Praise.

A raw, bitter northerly wind is scything through the air out there in the world. We are anticipating snow. Unlike my normal Friday I'm at home indoors with the heating on. I'm listening to Verdi for the first time in a while. Waiting for a phone call I will stay put until it comes. Good to be away from work and not feel guilty or anxious. It truth I booked the day off to sort my car. That is the call I'm expecting.

Taking a cab into town after dropping the car off I made a little progress on Christmas shopping. Only two more things to get and all the wrapping.

I'm trying hard to make sense of the past week. Busy is an understatement. Did I do some good? I do hope so. The week was one I was dreading as it contained my annual lecture to the psychology students. As I have noted before on here I feel like abandoning teaching and speaking but I held on.

Imagine my surprise when I walked in and a student said to me "are you the Mark that wrote the books?" I wasn't expecting that. Apparently I have a reputation. I came away two and half hours later exhausted and disappointed. Not for abject failure but for missing out the key moment of the story and having to go back. A bit like telling a brilliant joke but forgetting the punchline. Whilst I dwell on failure the students will judge me for what I am. That feedback will come and I will be too nervous to read it. Yet after I met with the academic who invited me and was equally shocked when she said "it is a privilege to have you teach our students". Apparently the feedback has always been awesome.

Being a known and praised figure unnerves me sometimes. Rather uncomfortable when people know my name and what I do and over praise me. Earlier in the week a visitor told me I was famous in mental health circles. I should of course be buoyed by such sentiment but given that all those years ago I was accused of narcissism you can understand my surprised response.

Deep down we all need validation. That my confidence is at best shaky these days nice things happening should be good. I just never feel there is any lessening of expectation. Constants feelings of why didn't you do that plague my daily life. I think there is a lot I do well but all I ever notice is what I fail to do well. Why can't I just be?

Increasingly it feels like I need to do something about my anxiety. Caroline would tell me to meditate. But to do that I need to be disciplined and I'm not too good at that.

Away from the self criticism I'm pleased to report that I had a lovely evening out at The Waggoners on Wednesday for Sarah's birthday. They were so kind they gave us a free glass of champagne each.

I will probably return on the weekend so see you then.

I Heard a Voice.

The Luncheon Interval.

For all of you who read this from countries not playing or familiar with cricket it may seem strange that a sporting contest can last for five days and each day is stopped for the luncheon and tea intervals. So quaintly English. We do indeed do that and we are famous for afternoon tea.

Today's luncheon interval was just what I needed to pick me up. Both days this weekend have been marred by chronic anxiety over such stupid things as freezers and hoovers. I kid you not but that is what my brain bequeathed me on waking. More and more I am understanding what life was like for mum in the last years of her life.

This is utterly ridiculous but all too real. Beka keeps telling me to talk to someone about it. But having been one of the original guinea pigs in the wave of CBT that pervades our services I'm certainly not going back there. My "psychotherapy" was an unmitigated disaster and has made me suspicious of therapists ever since.

Sometimes people erroneously think that I provide counselling. I do not, I just have conversations with people, tell them what I think, share my rich tapestry of experience and for many that is helpful. I'm not in therapy as some therapists are. True I seek wise counsel for wise people. But I do not leave people with their own thoughts.

On this day the luncheon interval came to my rescue. Hass picked me up from home and we had a beautiful lunch at The Waggoners. It was so good to see him and hear of his new post university life. He is loving it. We talked of past and future and it made me think once again that to move on I must shape my destiny. Just feels so desperately hard knowing which way to turn.

Back at home in the warm I'm listening to Handel with a cup of Darjeeling tea and a good book. I feel very full on this damp day. Full moon will appear later but the clouds will obscure my view. I wonder what it will do to the asylum that is my life. If we believe in old wives' tales it could be busy. I'm less anxious now than earlier. Looming on the horizon I have my annual lecture to the 1st year clinical psychology doctorate students on Thursday. Each year it has been a triumph so why am I so scared? It lurks already in my clouded mind. I'm thinking more and more about giving up the teaching and public speaking. But that will be admitting defeat. I must face my fear and triumph.

Take it easy back in the land of work next week and I will speak again soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Too Classy for Pizza.

Apathetic is probably the best word to describe my view on Italian food. It simply isn't my thing. Nice wine certainly, very partial to a glass of Chianti. You will occasionally find me cooking pasta but when it comes to pizza that is indeed a rare event. So why was it this week I found myself desiring that over rated food? No idea but last night I shared a pepperoni pizza with Bronwen in the pub. It was okay but nothing special. What took me by surprise was the comment of her son Tristan who said merely "I thought you were too classy for pizza". What a buoyant idea, being classy. I don't always feel classy and much of my life I view myself as a failed nobody. But I do like to do my culinary adventures with some style.

The week is over. I bounced back from my disappointing Wednesday. Yesterday was one of frustration after only one of my six students booked in turned up and she was late so couldn't stop. We had an emergency but I coped.

A dreary wet day has followed. It was a normal Saturday of food shopping and wandering. I have a piece of rump steak for dinner, chips are in the oven and about to open a nice bottle of Rioja. I have chosen Beethoven to accompany me for the early stages tonight. Peas, watercress and griddled tomato will round out my supper.

Tomorrow I'm going out with my friend Hass for roast beef. Originally planned for today the challenges of looking after small children led to a delay. But I don't mind.

Advent tomorrow so I will dust off my first King's recording and chill when home. The march is now on for Christmas. I keep hearing Christmas music everywhere. So on we go to a holiday. Enjoy your weekend.

I Heard a Voice.