And Hast Thou Slain the Jabberwock?

When I was child I learned by heart the Lewis Carroll poem the Jabberwocky. If you are not familiar with it it goes as seen below. I loved it. But why did it come to mind today? Well today I learned that I had not slain one of my Jabberwockies. For 2 hours today I was overwhelmed by that figure from my past who will be buried on Tuesday. I thought I had slain that demon in 2007 and in March this year. I was wrong.


Fortunately I snapped out of it am now focussed on my date with destiny tomorrow. As a measure of being back in control I am listening to music from that time as I write.

Tomorrow will come soon enough and we may know the answer to the question I posed on here some months ago, should I stay of should I go.

Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)        from Through the Looking Glass                     Jabberwocky     'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves         Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:     All mimsy were the borogoves,             And the mome raths outgrabe.     "Beware the Jabberwock, my son!         The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!     Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun             The frumious Bandersnatch!"     He took his vorpal sword in hand:         Long time the manxome foe he sought–     So rested he by the Tumtum tree,             And stood awhile in thought.     And, as in uffish thought he stood,         The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,     Came wiffling through the tulgey wood,             And burbled as it came!     One, two! One, two! And through and through         The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!     He left it dead, and with its head             He went galumphing back.     "And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?         Come to my arms, my beamish boy!     O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"             He chortled in his joy.     'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves         Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:     All mimsy were the borogoves,             And the mome raths outgrabe. I Heard a Voice.

Where Have I Been?

In case you hadn't noticed, I have been absent from here for quite a while. I've not been avoiding you all just never got round to it. You find me on a cold, wet, and dreary Hertfordshire day in which sensible people would have stayed in bed. I was too busy for that. Yes the chaos continues. But other things have been happening. The last 10 days are a story of a death, a visit, and an opportunity. And a bit of teaching thrown in!

So on this wet night I have Moo Pa Low bubbling away on the hob-that is Thai belly pork braised with coriander root, garlic, chicken stock and five spice to those of us who are linguistically challenged-and slowly bringing the rice to the boil, I will tell you of the last few days.

A man from my past died. I have blogged on him before but would never name him. He was famous. The papers all held obituaries but of course they didn't tell the whole truth. Who ever does when we die? One paper used the word terrifying. That is to put it mildly. In this age of child protection being so paramount maybe one day the story will come out. I am more overt about him in my new book but doubt anyone will notice. But what is hard is the barrage of e mails and invitations to commemorate a man who would have been disgraced now. So I won't be doing a trip to the Cotswolds on Tuesday.

On a nicer note I spent the weekend with my dad. Even spent some time in the pub with him which was great. That never happened when mum was alive. I guess we should have done it a long time ago.

As for the opportunity I have to take a trip north on Thursday. The next part of my epic journey through madness may be decided on that day. Who knows?

Life is winding down now to Christmas. I can't wait to have a break. It has been a dark route this term but I have done some good. Others might say a lot of good. So I go on treating those whom others can't help. And that is something that feels good if only in small bursts.

Hopefully more blogging later in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

Sunday Rage.

My plan today was to catch the 11.31 am train to Cambridge to watch the Hurricanes vs. Pythons. I had arranged the entire weekend around that event. I had been invited to a party in Kent but with regret I had to turn it down. At about 11.15 am I got to station-result? No trains beyond Hitchin. Fucking furious! Why are they so unreliable? I could have caught a bus but it would have turned a 55 minute journey into a 2 hour marathon. Thinking about it I really didn't feel like using up a combined 4 hours of my Sunday there and back.

So I find myself at home after having a fry up. I do have some things to look forward to. I will eat my pheasant I bought for tomorrow today. I bought a bottle of Campo Viejo Reserva and I have batter for pancakes. To fill in time? Perhaps the Magic Flute and some reading. It doesn't lift the rage though!

I Heard a Voice.

A Good Night's Sleep.

Well after my low ebb day yesterday-you may have noticed in yesterday's post-I am feeling somewhat better in general and about myself. That is one of the curious traits of battling a mood disorder, the one in which whatever you have done you feel you're a terrible person. I don't feel that always but I did yesterday. The cure? Finally sleeping well. Barring a couple of dream interruptions I slept for 11 hours. Not done that for weeks.

And so the weekend. Today has been quiet, shopping, rugby, and cooking. I have been slow roasting belly pork with rosemary, garlic, and juniper berries since 3 pm. I just put in some red onions and apples to roast-not convinced by the latter but I will give it a go. This will be doused in a cider and rosemary sauce. The Messiah is playing in the background and the flat is scented with wonderous aromas-God I love cooking!

Tomorrow I will catch the 11.31 train to Cambridge for the Hurricanes vs Pythons at Coldhams Lane. And yes I will be cheering the Pythons despite my current employment situation. Talking of which I applied for a job another university last week. I doubt I have a chance but who knows.

I wish you all a peaceful and fun rest to the weekend. Now to get on with the mashed potatoes and carrots in cider, the latter is courtesy of Rick Stein's Mediterranean book. See you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Trouble Seeing Your Doctor?

Any of you out there in the UK experience the problems I do in actually getting an appointment with your GP? I guess you all have. If I recall the last government-and this isn't a political comment-decided that the way in which we could speed up meeting our GPs was to change the system of appointments meaning that they could only be booked by phoning at God awful o'clock in the morning in the hope you could beat the rush and actually see someone on that day.

There are 2 major problems with that a) if I am ill all I want to do is sleep and do not need waiting on the phone to try to get though, and b) it is almost impossible for working people like me to do that. If I need a Doctor if I'm physically ill I really don't mind who I see. Mind you when I had my possible kidney infection in the summer the second Doctor I saw tried to pin it down to a cause that was false which was due to side effects of my medication. Well I didn't have what he said and I had been taking that medication for 19 years without a problem.

So why do I mention that today? Well with my mental illness I will only talk to my GP as he at least has some idea. I would like to see him regularly given I'm not deemed mad enough to have a shrink. He also would like to see me regularly. Problem is I can never get an appointment with him.

Last month when I dropped in my repeat prescription they delayed signing it as he wanted to see me. I asked for an appointment but they of course couldn't help me. On Tuesday I dropped in to ask for this month's pills. After work today I went in to collect the prescription to be told it hadn't even been issued. Apparently that was as I was under using. Well he knows that anyway.

I have been on the same medication regime since 2002. I make it work for me in the context of my life and vary my doses. Sunday to Thursday I take 50 mg of trimipramine and 2 mg of risperidone at night. Friday and Saturday I take 150 mg of trimipramine and 2 mgs of risperidone. That is as I need sleep. No anti depressant has ever made an impact on my mood in the 21 years I have been on them. Risperidone, an atypical anti psychotic saved my life. I take the trimipramine to sleep. But I can't function or wake up on the full dose in the week. What is better I work full time and function? Or do I follow Doctor's orders and take myself out of the realm of work? Your choice dear reader.

Looks like I will have to move heaven and earth to get to see him but who knows how long that will take. In  reality I know more than he does. I will keep you posted.

Home now and going back to my university rugby club days and cooking a sausage curry. They were disgusting back then but I hope my honed skills will improve on the past.

I Heard a Voice.

The Judgement of Paris.

Well hello, it has been a while. It is now 2 weeks since my post about the phantom viewers or perhaps no viewers at all. It is 11 days since my last post on Friday carnage. Well it has been eventful and tiring hence the fact I have not been on here. The viewers, if I believe the figures have come back in their droves. We are not even half way through November I am well on course to break my record number of viewers which came in July. As for the the carnage I wrote of it has well and truly carried on. I am earning my money.

There are other things that have come to light. Apparently I don't do emotional work with my students. Or psychological work. I provide practical advice so I'm told. I wonder what my students make of that? Furthermore, I am merely a source of expert advice, I do not know a suicide risk if I see one, and it is useful to have friends in high places. Yes it has been eventful.

This has got me thinking what exactly do I do? Perhaps more importantly is who is my judge? The simple answer to those to questions is I just have conversations with people, and I am judged by those who seek me out. Maybe that is my grand delusion. I started thinking today of whether a delusion can be a delusion if it is collectively held? Answers in the comments box if you can help me on that.

In reality what matters is the quality of how I say what I say and manage these conversations. That is my great skill. Whilst I downplay what I do I seem to have a track record of quickly working out those whom no one else could work out. So many I see have sought help before and been let down. I guess I pick up the pieces. Is that why people come back repeatedly and I got nominated for the award that wasn't?

One day if I can find the words maybe I will try to quantify what I do and write a 3rd book. But what of the judgement in today's post title? Well I leave that to others. I have decided the way forward when I come home is to ask myself the question did I do some good today? And for the last 2 days I have achieved that.

As an aside from my inane rambling I had an excellent lunch with incomparable Dory yesterday. Just a shame that I could not spend longer with her. I had to rush back to clear up yet more shit that had hit the fan. I don't know if I'm riding the crest of the large wave but it certainly hasn't sunk me yet!

I Heard a Voice.

Friday Carnage.

There is an old adage in mental health. Well actually there are 2 versions of said adage depending on which side of the fence one resides. The nutter's version says "it is only okay to have a crisis between 9 and 5 Monday to Friday. The workers versions says "crises always occur on the Friday afternoon". I reside on both sides although as I'm not currently deemed mad enough I do not get any support when I go into crisis. But that is an aside.

Yesterday was supposed to be quiet Friday of module planning and lunch with one of my former students. I did the former okay but the latter cancelled. As it transpires thank God he did. For yesterday afternoon all hell broke loose. 3 students went into crisis at the same time. Whilst many revere my talents I cannot do 3 at once. So I had to deal with the most serious.

Sadly the story she had to tell was far too close to my experience-cry for help and no one listens. And guess who had to to pick up the pieces? An hour and three quarters later I had averted disaster and avoided a lengthy a no doubt futile trip to A&E. Oh how the enemy still let me down. I'm having to follow up over the weekend but so be it. I was at my best yesterday. I could speculate how others might have dealt with it but I couldn't possibly put that on here.

Today I have been winding down and recuperating-I was tired. I shopped, had tea and lemon drizzle cake, and then to the ultimate wind down-the cooking.

Shortly there after I consumed some very nice Sri Lankan prawn curry. Pleased with that and have some left. Tomorrow I go back to my roots of pork, slow roasted to just melt under the knife and a fine bottle of rioja. Then it is back to the battle-I have 7 appointments booked for Monday, I'm not supposed to do more than 4. Perhaps the long expected tidal wave has finally broken.

I Heard a Voice.