I Saw the Rain.

After months of intense heat and humidity, parched earth and yellow grass the rains finally came on Thursday. At last a break from it all.

Rain aside Thursday did not go to plan. Sat in a 15th century pub in St Albans with my book I got an unexpected call from Harry my therapist. Therapists never call especially from mobile numbers. Not sure what I said to him on Wednesday but it spooked enough to get other eyes on me.

So I boarded a bus and pitched up at the mental health team and spent an hour with a nurse. A very senior nurse. Important people are worried. I was impressed with her. Human and giving just like me.

I'm not where I was on Thursday but I had a Saturday in near total isolation which was hard. Too early to tell how I feel today but I have Handel opera, my book and half a chicken to roast for my lunch.

After lunch I'm going round to see friends. With The Hedgehog now closed at least for the moment I have few places to go.

Going forward it is just day to day. But I will ride out the storm.

I Heard a Voice

Surprise Contacts.

Been a while since I was on here. Nothing to say and taking a step back from a few things in my life. It's a mild, sunny Sunday morning here. A step change from the intense heat and humidity that has characterised our summer for weeks on end.

I'm home listening to The Magic Flute. I read a chapter in my book and I need to think about preparing lunch. My friend Jasmine is joining me for roast lamb. Later than planned as she was late back with her poorly son.

Trying to step back has not been easy. Yesterday my plan to just chat to friends over a pint but ended up being much longer than planned due to various unexpected visitors to the pub.

Last night likewise. Seeing my friend Emma whose late mum lived downstairs from me was unexprcted. Still struggling to make sense of her mum's death I was tied up in an intense conversation so I was much later home than I'd hoped.

Today I hope to be more restrained. Need to stay alert for a meeting I'm having tomorrow. Enjoy your Sunday all.

I Heard a Voice.

Sunday of Opera, Reading and Roast Lamb.

It has just gone midday on a quiet Sunday. Handel's Julius Caesar is playing. A half shoulder of lamb is slow roasting in the oven. And I've read another two chapters of my book.

Not been here for a while. I have been exploring other areas of social media. My posts on TikTok about mental health, communication, barriers, challenges are attracting some interest.

In my working life things are going well. Busy last week. I'm off to the Royal College of Psychiatrists on 16th...hang out with the self appointed important people. At some point this week I'm talking to important people about getting candidates onto Clinical Psychology Doctoral programmes. Number 1 priority is being strong enough to stand up to consultant psychiatrists.

Therapy continues each Wednesday afternoon in same brutalising, intense, humbling and shocking way. I knew it would be hard though. One day at a time.

I'll heading to the coast after my trip to London. See my dad, my friends and to walk along the beach.

England play tonight in the World Cup but as kickoff is not until 1 am I won't watch as I have to work tomorrow.

Enjoy your Sunday.

I Heard a Voice.

Heat and Echoes of the Past.

I was musing with Sarah in the week on what friendship actually means. People say "you can count the number of true friends on the fingers of one hand". Just over a week ago I lost a friend of 15 years because she misinterpreted something I did. The wisdom of Sarah rightly pointed out "if she was a true friend she would have challenged you on it during a conversation not just told you to fuck off".

I struggle with self esteem and sense of self. Try as I might to use my knowledge of language to do good sometimes I get it wrong. My therapy sessions have a heavy dose of loss, endings and the actions of others.

The week that the devil addressed me directly three times has been very difficult. But hour by hour, day by day I got through. I have not opened the latest missives from her but the fact they were sent is really unsettling.

Back on a quiet but stifling hot Sunday morning I'm listening to Puccini, reading and roasting a chicken. A friend popped round to fix a small plumbing issue in my bathroom. Having spent most of yesterday seeing no one it was good to have a visitor.

Going back to friendship some years ago I was privileged to share a panel with the then CEO of MIND Paul Farmer at a mental health conference. His comment was interesting, "the problem with Facebook is it has redefined what a 'friend' is". Friendship is not a numbers game. What matters is authenticity. I know many many people but how many are there for me when I'm struggling? 48 hours of silence usually raises the alarm with my true friends. I must stop trying to be there for anyone especially if it is to my detriment. Devil go.

I Heard a Voice.

An Avalanche of Nightmares.

Two weeks have passed since my last post. I had hoped to post after therapy two Wednesdays ago but was too emotionally exhausted to do anything. But so much has happened.

I returned to my office for the first time in more than a year two Mondays ago. It felt alien, bewildering and overwhelming. Very similar to going back to campus after lockdown. But I did it.

My real emotion was being stunned by the welcome I received from people in health and education. The narrative has changed. They missed me and needed me. The struggles they had without me are getting clearer.

An exhausting experience set against the backdrop of therapy and the devil reappearing. That therapy is having an impact is clear from the avalanche of nightmares I've experienced recently. Really hard going at the moment but I will persevere.

As for the devil life is not looking good but I'm resisting the desire to reach out. You reap what you sow. No longer will I prop you up.

Lost another friend on Friday. Maybe I should cut myself off from people who drain me. As my friend Rebecca who is a therapist said to me yesterday do not keep giving when it is to your detriment.

Away from that though I listening to The Magic Flute and preparing lunch for a friend. Roast rib of beef and a bottle of Amerone. She's bringing the cheese.

Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

Roast Duck, Grey Skies and Puccini

The skies have turned grey, the air is cooler and Puccini plays. Sunday afternoon on an edgy, listless weekend. A week full of travel wore me out. Then the paranoia set in.

Forever worried and anxious being spied on from I know not where is very unnerving. The devil may have gone at least for the time being but I'm fearful of who trust.

That is the nasty part of my mental state. But I have my kitchen, my opera and my books. A duck leg and potatoes just went in to roast. Not had roast duck for several months. The devil once joined me for roast duck. Maybe been the last time I roasted duck.

Tomorrow summer starts, I go back to my office and remember a profound, beautiful but doomed meeting four years ago. That changed so much in my life. It is fodder for my therapy sessions. They remain brutally hard. A nurse on the ward in 1994 said to me "it will get worse before it gets better". I wasn't expecting that 32 years later I'm still at times in the grip of a mental health vice.

Away from my little world life looks uncertain, unstable and unsafe. Why do we do all this to ourselves? Intent on destruction. I fear for the world.

I Heard a Voice.

Vindication and Anger and Emerging.

In my year long venture into all things ADHD I repeatedly hear two words. Mainly these words come from women diagnosed late. They are powerful. Vindication and anger.

After a 4 1/2 year nightmare I emerged into dazzling light vindicated on Friday. A new way forward sweeping away the toxic cloud that has seeped into my very being, my core and my self. It is over.

No ego driven, power crazed and control obsessed poison any more. Life changed on Friday.

Going forward I will play to my strengths, bring compassion, bring teaching, bring knowledge and a fierce sense of right and wrong to my work life.

On a sunny Sunday morning I'm listening to Mozart opera and cooking roast pork. I read two chapters of my book and am looking forward to opening a bottle of Rioja.

Yesterday I was in Cambridge with Jayne to watch the American football Varsity Bowl. Glorious win for the Pythons followed by drinks in the Granta and dinner at Sala Thong.

Not without its bad memories. Two events occured in the Granta many years ago. Both very significant and damaging. But I will not let that overwhelm me. Past mars my past but I shape my future. The storied story goes on.

Back in my current world the devil has shut down all contact with the world beyond her twisted, damaged little life. It is both good and bad. Tinged with what might have been. Harry says I always talk about endings in therapy not what went on before. There is a long way to go with therapy and it remains brutally hard.

That, however, can wait until Wednesday. Today is Sunday and tomorrow is a public holiday. Enjoy this sunny long weekend.

I Heard a Voice.