Falling off a Cliff.

Some days I just wake up really depressed. Usually triggered by nightmares of my mum it's like falling off a mood cliff. Today is such a day.

I knew I couldn't do it today. So simply gave up. I sit alone in my flat feeling desolate. The rain is coming down and it's very cold. My mind is clothed with a black darkness suffocating me. I can see and hear but not touch.

Years ago people used to equate my illness to being in a long, dark tunnel. It was worse than that, I was floating in darkness unable to touch or feel the floor or the walls of that tunnel.

Yet still I got up, made my bed, got dressed, had coffee, washed my face, put my contact lenses in and brushed my teeth. I did not go back to bed with all the curtains closed and the lights off. That course of action was very tempting.

For now I fight hour to hour. I will get through. As I posted on another platform earlier to mark Mental Health Awareness Week I survived.

It's too early to decide if I will increase my medication. On Wednesday I have therapy, today I think I need it.

I Heard a Voice.

In Close Proximity.

A cold wind is blowing across the quiet land of Hertfordshire. In sharp contrast to the glorious day yesterday. I'm so cold I have the heating on.

The week was tough. Finally had a conversation about my future. The change I wanted and needed will not now happen. I have little choice but to return to my old job and face big questions. Why is work so hard? To add to that though the woman who has steared our service on a more stable path is leaving. Where this leads us I have no idea. What I do know is that I'm the only one who knows.

That is aside this weekend though. It's the weekend of the Food Festival. I went down yesterday with a friend but felt the busy throng too overwhelming. What I didn't learn until later was that the devil was there too.

I'm hugely relieved I didn't bump into her. Given how painful the journey has been since January to move forward thank goodness it was close proximity not face to face.

Back to this cold Sunday I'm listening to The Marriage of Figaro, I've read another chapter in my book and have rolled breast of turkey roasting in the oven. Still not eating much but continue on my culinary adventures.

Miriam is down visiting dad. No doubt they've booked somewhere nice for a pub lunch. I'm booked at The White Horse in Welwyn for lunch next Sunday with Marie; she's travelling up on Friday.

Devil go home and reap what you sow. I do not want you in my life.

I Heard a Voice.

Not a Known Soul.

I've not seen a soul today. Well not known to me. After a lonely, detached and tired holiday weekend I have sought solitude. I didn't wake up until midday. The lack of structure and purpose on bank holidays has long plagued me. 

Unsure of what to do I didn't eat lunch. Wasn't hungry. But I did get in my car and had a pint of Cornish ale in The Rose and Crown at Welwyn. Apart from the young woman pouring the ale I spoke to no one. Nor see anyone I knew.

Back when mum was alive she would always be surprised when I bumped into someone I knew wherever we went. She always wanted to know how I knew all these people. Well I talk to them.

Meeting new people has never been easy for me. That may come as a surprise given that I get paid to meet and talk to new people. That though is on my terms, in my world. The mental health world is home, familiar to me.

After nearly 19 years in Hertfordshire a lot of people know me. Just none today.

The devil was less on my mind today. That after almost reaching out last night. All voices say do not. Thus far I haven't. Must keep that up.

In my solitude I did cook. Beef rendang from scratch. Made the paste, slow cooked it for 2 1/2 hours. Came out pretty well.

Tomorrow I speak to a wise man, I work and I cook for Sarah. Undecided whether to do pan fried duck breasts with cassis and blackberry sauce, pan fried and roasted duck breast with pomegranate molasses or duck Mussaman curry. Each requires going out for ingredients or the effort of making curry paste on a work day. I wonder which I will choose.

I Heard a Voice.

Whispering Deceit or Crying a Painful Truth?

The devil spoke this week. Not directly to me but to the wider online world. I'm trying to interpret what she said. Was she whispering more deceit to elicit compassion or expressing the painful truth that has beset my mind since late January?

All but one person in my life have don't you dare respond. The one different voice, that of a therapist, is urging me to connect. Who do I trust?

The devil took up most of my therapy session this week. No advice was given, never expect that from a psychodynamic therapist, but he did give some different angles. The most striking was that unlike what happened in the past this time someone reached out to me not the other way round. Before the door has been slammed in my face repeatedly.

It is hard to forgive betrayal, vitriolic bile and attacks that confirm my very low opinion of me. But do I need to forgive? Or am I deluding my self that the devil's message relates to me?

On Tuesday I will speak to someone who will advise. Then I will decide.

Back to today I'm listening to Handel's Serse and cooking roast lamb. It has been a fairly lonely weekend. People doing their own thing. Tomorrow is a public holiday, what do I do with myself? Always a conundrum.

Must phone dad and Miriam later. Back now to my opera and my book.

I Heard a Voice.

Disastrous and Expensive.

Had things gone to plan I would be enjoying my Sunday opera feeling refreshed after my holiday. As it stands I'm listening to Sunday opera with an insidious and smoldering anger.

The week away was not only cut short but was an unmitigated disaster. Never again. Fortunately dad is fully recovered but the appalling way the hotel dealt with a minor stomach upset has left me angry and once again feeling betrayed.

By late last week it seemed they were going to refund everything including the £200 I spent on travel. Now they're trying to back out of that. What can I do though? I'm a nobody with no leverage.

Despite the rage it is sunny, I'm not being bombed as many are in the world. I'm cushioned from economic catastrophe instigated by war in the Middle East. I have a job, a home, food and the right to vote. That is lucky for me. Others are not that lucky.

In a couple of hours I will walk through the woods for lunch at The Waggoners. Tomorrow brings what it will but that is tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.

Stuck in a Hotel Room.

On the first full day of our holiday I have had no coffee, no food, no air and no sunshine. The sun is out but we cannot get to it. Dad should have on the bowls green from 10 am. Lunch now but not to be.

We are confined to our hotel room and being required to end our holiday. Sadly dad was unwell in the night so we are in quarantine.

Illness cannot be helped. God I've had enough illness in my life. It can be a terrible spoiler. Fortunately he seems a lot better. Yet the holiday is at an end.

I have arranged to be picked up around 5 pm. Not sure what happens when we get back to my flat. No food in as I expected to be away. But at least then we can go outside.

I Heard a Voice 

With a Smile Like a Girl's.

What to say about this week? Peaks and troughs. A slow and short working week. Intense therapy, a trip to London, a no show and my dad visiting this weekend.

Had I written yesterday it could well have been an angry post. Yet on this sunny Sunday afternoon Beethoven plays, belly pork roasts and I feel a lot better.

Dad and I are going away tomorrow. He will play bowls and I will read. I'm taking two books one of which I some way through and another to start when it is complete.

Not sure what of all of that I can expand on but I will reference London. King's events do bring me a lot of anxiety. I have spoken many times on here how mixed and in many ways damaging that was. 43 years on from leaving I still talk of it in therapy and in life.

What made it most interesting was seeing a woman who I was once close to for the first time in 20 years. We were 9 when we met and all these years later she still has the smile of a little girl. She approached me to talk and it was lovely.

Back to this weekend I must get on with preparing vegetables and drying up. Must open the wine too. Dad made it to the local church down the road. I listened to music and have been reading. The sun is shining and the day feels good.

I Heard a Voice.