Handel's Warm Embrace.

On a quiet Sunday afternoon Handel plays, gammon roasts and the sun shines. I'm home and just finished reading another chapter of Felicity Cloake's Red Sauce Brown Sauce-a British Breakfast Odyssey. For someone who never eats breakfast I'm still a fan of a fry up but not when I get up.

My week was a short one after Easter. Back to work on Wednesday until Friday. I guess it was okay, in a bit of a downturn in tasks. Since returning to work in the autumn it's been fits and starts. Intense activity then a lull.

There's a meeting at Royal College of Psychiatrists on Thursday but I can't go. True I will be in London that day but for a drinks reception at The Reform Club. Once again I face the past of nearly 50 years. King's remains both a monument and shadow in my life. A friend asked me quite intensely last night why I was going. I couldn't give a concrete reason. But go I will.

Before then though is therapy. My first two sessions have been intense, difficult and exhausting. But I'm glad I'm going there.

This time next week my dad will be here. No doubt I'll have to organise a taxi to and from St Francis of Assisi church before having lunch. He likes to get his church fix.

Then on Monday we travel to Essex for our holiday. We went last year and had fun despite my parlace mental state at the time. I'm looking forward to afternoons with my book and a few glasses of ale.

For now though I return to my opera and salivate over the forthcoming roast gammon with English mustard.

Have a peaceful Sunday all.

I Heard a Voice.

Easter Greetings.

Happy Easter to everyone who celebrates it. Passover is on and Eid was a couple of weeks ago. So the three monotheistic faiths all celebrate close to each other. Sometimes known as "people of the Book" similarities must outweigh the centuries old animosity that is trumpeted in our news reels. Let us celebrate faith, creed and culture.

In my small world I've been somewhat up and down mentally. I struggled with isolation, desolation and loneliness Friday and Saturday. Better today but the shadow of the devil still invades and envelops my mind a lot.

Yet my kitchen remains my haven. There is half a leg of lamb seasoned with garlic and rosemary in the oven. The potatoes are parboiled. I'm making a starter of crab and apple salad with cucumber, mayonnaise, mint and lemon. Miriam and Nigel are my guests for lunch.

I'm off now until Wednesday. The last week was slow but next week I will review the interim report on "overdiagnosis" of mental health, ADHD and autism ordered by Wes Streeting in December. Quite why he did that I'm not sure given last year's ADHD taskforce report. The chatter online is that they're chasing a mythical unicorn to save money and get people working. To do the latter we need root and branch reform of health, education, housing, DWP and culture. We're a long way off that.

For now though as hailstones fall outside I will concentrate on lunch. Perhaps it's time to crack open the fizz.

I Heard a Voice.

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.