Shadow Fall.

On a sunny Saturday afternoon I'm at home. Just had a chicken sandwich for lunch and have iced water. This day is never easy for me. For it's 14 years today since my mum died. The sea that she loved, respected and feared finally took her.

The shadow of that day and many years before still hangs over us. We have different views on what that shadow looks like. For me it can be cloying and oppressive, a devastating foundation to my mental health battles. At other times I have fond memories. Trips to the cricket in Canterbury. Teaching children to read in school together. Yet still almost every dream I have of her unsettles me. And I have many.

What I cannot take away from her is her life long fight for the rights of women. Seeing a woman installed as Archbishop of Canterbury this week would have delighted her.

Can we speak ill of the dead? I'm about to find out. Next Wednesday I return to therapy. I've waited a lifetime for this. To finally confront the shadow. Sadly it will not be with my expected therapist, that has also unsettled me.

Easter is coming. The music, the food, the wine, the memories. I'm not really eating much chocolate at the moment so an Easter egg is unlikely.

Miriam and Nigel are joining me Easter Day lunch, crab and apple salad with mayonnaise, lemon and mint accompanied by English fizz followed by roast duck with a bottle of Medoc.

I have to get through today though first. A day at a time.

I Heard a Voice.

Blotted Out by the Sound of the Waves.

Sunday morning in March the sun of shining and I'm listening to The Marriage of Figaro. I've had my coffee, put my lenses in and brushed my teeth. Simple tasks that everyone can do but my anxiety tries to beat me on every day. Yes it's that bad most days. Bernie Rosen said to me in 1994 "you have to do the nitty gritty in life". Keep going on the basics however hard if feels and when there seems no point.

After been woken by four dreams in the night two of which were full on nightmares I feel time and on edge. Looming next week is the anniversary of my mum's death. 14 years later I still dream of her and it's rarely good. Last weekend was mothers' day, always a tough one.

Still the murmuring voice of the devil is out there trying to manipulate and deceive and get back into my life. I remain silent. During the week I got to the beach and the sound of waves blotted her out. A short while in time.

Being in Kent much of week allowed me to feel cared for, valued and needed. That was needed after the last two months. I saw so many friends, some by design and some by chance. And my small family. Even ate Italian food on my dad's birthday. Never my thing but it was good.

The world away from me continues to go mad. War has so many impacts. Already the price of petrol has shot up. Energy bills are held for the time being but will rocket in July. Who knows where we'll be when I have to renew my mortgage towards the end of 2027?

Yet these are material things. I'm not being bombed, displaced and being the collateral damage of angry, dangerous, egotistical men fighting with no plan. I do not make political comments often but did highlight last year on here the authoritarianism was back in our world. Almost by definition the makes the world an inherently more dangerous place.

I can do nothing about that though. All I can do is focus on what I can do. And today that is opera, my book and roast pheasant for lunch.

I Heard a Voice.

Unwanted Voice.

After nearly a month of silence the devil spoke and reappeared on Monday. I didn't open it until Friday but once again feeling haunted by the mistakes of the past.

Whilst the voice was not threatening it was not welcome. Someone asked was it remorseful? I don't think the devil is capable of remorse. More agrandisement to make her feel better. Have I once again met evil?

Talking of evil, and I mean evil, I learned in the week that the university has finally expunged a cancer within its core. No one knew until I broke the news. One thing I know of that place is if you get too loud, too obvious, too much of a problem they will pay you off and silence you.

Although my troubles follow me I have escaped to the seaside. Alone at dad's flat I'm enjoying the silence. He is at church. I will get going on roast pork shortly. When it's in crackled I will turn it down and walk to the beach.

I'm here until Thursday. May peace and silence reign.

I Heard a Voice.

An Evolutionary Response.

Sunday lunchtime on International Wonen's Day. I'm home listening to opera on yet another grey day. Grey or not the fight for equality, safety and acceptance goes on. As an unknowing and weak ally I can only add my quiet voice of support to the extraordinary women I know.

Tired is probably the best way to describe me. An intense working week assessing the White Paper on SEND Reform filled my week with review and analysis. That work, a distilled version, will soon be presented to the Executive Board of the Trust.

Getting noticed in high places is not something I seek and if I'm honest makes me feel uncomfortable. But it is happening.

The way forward may be too radical to be seen as evolutionary. The report has profound implications for our staff, our training and our model. I've been saying this from day 1. We must change.

Most importantly it means that children and young people caught in the nether world between mild to severe will finally get support. That must be a good thing.

Aside from my work my recent brush with devilry still impacts and hurts. But I still get through each day.

Next weekend I will be home by the sea with my family and friends. Let us hope the sun shines and I can walk along the beach, hear the gulls and the wind and see the waves breaking.

I Heard a Voice.

Winter or Spring?

As winter ends and spring begins there is little to choose between them. Grey and wet. Grey though mentally is better than the eternal darkness that pervaded my mind for nearly a month. The blackness returned yesterday, today more grey despite horrible nightmares in the early hours of this morning.

In the cold light of day I'm tired but functioning better. I've lost so much weight and barely eating for a month cooking has been a mountain to climb. But I did cook today, roast rolled breast of turkey. The plate looked mountainous by my standards but I managed about two thirds of it.

The washing up lies undone as I'm listening to Puccini opera with a chilled glass of white Toscana.

I spoke to three people on the phone yesterday. All helpful in understanding the mailstrom of emotional chaos recently. It's still raw and hurting though. Hard not to ask the question why me? I tarry too long in the dark recesses of the mental health world and get trapped. What people think matters but I always seem to get burned.

The question of what is my purpose is a common comment on men's suicide notes and testimony of survivors. Not that suicide is on my mind but as a survivor who fought through years of illness, unemployment, poverty and despair I had to find a purpose to recover. That purpose is to help others. Is that a healthy purpose? Well yes and no. I'm great at looking after the mental health of others but terrible at my own mental health. Be kind to yourself even if others are unkind to you.

With I'll leave you on this first day of spring.

I Heard a Voice.

Echoes in the Silence.

Another week done. The drama of the week before has retreated into silence although echoes of memories keep coming back. I however am talking. Talking to those who care and love me. And they are many. I need my friends in hurt times.

A word I have been reluctant to use is betrayal. Yet two friends have both used that word a month on from the emotional earthquake. The devil remains silent but the echoes of betrayal still hit hard.

Aside from that it was payday on Wednesday. Turkish barber after work then dinner at The Waggoners. On Thursday I went to Lam Nam Moon with Jess. She's met the devil in person so knows. Jess remains one of my most trusted friends. Yesterday I went The Neem Tree with Sarah. Sarah knows the meaning of betrayal.

Now the weekend must be filled. I woke today tired, flat and lethargic. No motivation to do anything. But I must do not just ruminate. Lunch, washing and dinner must be done although I feel no drive or intereste in any of those.

Do I got out today? It is cold and wet out. Not enticing. I feel like isolating myself from the world. Not the best plan that.

In the wider world it is a wider war in the middle east. I know little of Iran but I know a lot about military things. I don't see what the objective is or what the end game is. The world has gone out of control.

I Heard a Voice.

Unmasking the Devil.

Rare is the day I get deceived by who people are. I've made a living getting inside people's heads. Some have described me as a mind reader, someone who can see into their souls. Not my words but the words of others.

My recent malaise, depression, intrusive thoughts, fear and doubt is as it transpires the result of a deep deception. I try to be kind and supportive to everyone but that kindness can be used by some. As someone said on Friday your kindness has been weaponised and used against you.

Knowing many people can be helpful though. And some can say things that instantly diminish the emotional pain. It took a while coming but it is diminished. Not that I feel great but better than I did. Do not trust too much; too dangerous.

Battered and bruised I'm working my way through Sunday morning. It's a nothing kind of day outside. Mild though. Inside I'm listening to Tosca and preparing to cook roast beef.

After a week of doing nothing but online mandatory training and some of it was pretty harrowing and emotionally draining. Triggering is not a word I like but how shall I put it, caused flashbacks and brought back the shame of old. Next week my diary has some structure.

Back in Kent preparation for dad's birthday in mid March. Restaurant is booked, Miriam and Nigel have booked to stay and an invitation has been extended to Beka.

Must get on with lunch preparations.

I Heard a Voice.