Restless and Anxious.

There is a definite feeling of the day after today. Yes yesterday was my birthday. I went out with friends to eat and had a few in the pub. Maybe a few too many. Didn't feeling hungover but been restless, listless and anxious all day. I don't know what to do with myself. As each hour passes we move closer to Spain.

We are being picked up at 4.30 am so I will have very little sleep. Those who have read this for a while will know the link between sleep and my illness. But my anxiety is not confined to that. After 2 courses of antibiotics my leg still hasn't recover. I live in fear it will flare up again in Spain.

All in all not my best day but in 24 hours I will be in the sunshine of Spain and with luck the anxiety will have diffused.

See you all when I get back next weekend.

I Heard a Voice.

An Odd Urge.

The weirdest urge came over me today. Well maybe not odd to many but odd to me. I had an urge for pizza. I have no idea why pizza is so loved around the world. True the pizza I had when I sang in Florence in 1987 was stunning. But I'm never found the like again anywhere else. Yet today I fancied it.

So I took myself off to Prezzo for a rare venture into Italian food. And very good it was too. Accompanied by a pint of Peroni followed by a splendid cappuccino I passed a couple of hours of my holiday. On my return I listened to Puccini and finally finished reading "Three Men in a Boat". I enjoyed it despite taking months to complete-I really must do more reading.

Tonight I returned to more normal territory with a home made Keema Mutter. Tragically disappointing, I can't remember a more bland curry in a long time. Note to self, more jaggery and more salt next time. Later I'm off to the pub quiz, that's usually fun too.

And what of tomorrow? Things domestic I fear, must get it done before dad gets here on Saturday. Talking of dad, I must ring him. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

A Moroccan Adventure.

The sun is shining, it's Bank Holiday Monday and I have no work for 3 weeks. That must be a reason to celebrate. My mood is better but not up to +2 as it had been recently. But I can cope with that.

Faced with what to do I thought a trip to the country was in order. So I set off with my friend Richard to the nearby village of Welwyn and consumed a pint of excellent Bombardier ale at the White Hart. As I was driving I left it at that and returned in time for afternoon tea. All very civilised.

What was left was trying to decide what to eat. So a chicken leg is currently braising in a tagine with ginger, coriander, cumin, parley, garlic and olive oil with onions and tomatoes. The book suggested olives but I don't like then so am going for another flavour in dates. It is a bit of an adventure but the Moroccan taste for sweet and savoury is growing on me.

Miriam and Beka have both been to Marrakesh in the last couple of years. One day I must go. Just watched Keith Floyd there in the market; it all looks so wonderful.

After dinner maybe it is time to turn once again to Mozart, not listened for a while. Happy holiday everyone in the UK. I will be back tomorrow.

I Hard a Voice.

The Historic Run Chase.

So it all ends. England's chase for a historic 4-0 win in the Ashes fell just 21 runs short as darkness came. A sad end perhaps but another great summer of cricket. That heralds the end of another summer. There are but 5 days until my birthday and 7 until September. The Ashes battles starts again at Brisbane in November and I move on in my life.

Am I still wishing my life away? Isn't that what we all do as we all crave for pay day when money runs out? Time runs fast and slow. It gets quicker as we get older. But there is probably a long way to go.

This time next week I will be in Spain. There is some anxiety as dad is not well so hoping for a speedy recovery. Both of us have been looking forward to this for a long time.

Mood wise I have been less flat today but not near the recent heights. More nightmares and missed sleep. Why am I afflicted by them so often? I don't know. Maybe my unquiet mind is not as quiet as I like to tell myself. Whatever else I still have my illness, my pills and my age old flaws. Yet in the main I get by.

Bring on the autumn. The NFL season starts a week on Thursday. I'll have to record that as I'm away. After that my busy year. I still have anxiety but I am not where I was year ago. Mid September was the lowest ebb I had known for a long time. Here's to a better autumn!

I Heard a Voice.

Wet and Warm.

As I look out the window the rain is hammering down. It has been like that most of the day. Not much chance of any play in the 5th Test at the Oval today. That said it is warm outside. A warm wet late summer's day. It reminds me very much of that day 6 years ago this week that I first visited the town I now call home looking for somewhere to live. That summer was a washout and I vividly recall my anxiety as I stood in the pouring rain waiting for the agent. That flat never work out long term and I'm now in my 5th year living in this flat.

My mood today very much matches the rain; I feel very flat. I'm not sure why but given the evidence of cigarette butts in my ashtray it was a bad night. I had respite from the nightmares on Thursday but not last night. Bad dreams usually means a bad start.

I wandered into town to shop then out into the country to visit the Waggoners pub for a pint of IPA. Given that there is little prospect of watching any cricket my mind turned to music. But what? Puccini, Handel, Britten, and Pink Floyd all came to mind. That combination reflects the eclectic nature of my mind today. I settled for Handel in the end and the Messiah is playing forth very clearly. Now I think I will read, got very behind on the Jerome K Jerome as I seem to have done with all recent books. It is a slow day. Let's hope tomorrow picks up.

I Heard a Voice.

War and Peace.

Early on Monday morning peace and tranquility reigned down at the lake. There were no birds, no dragonflies, no wasps, no flies, and no sign of the heron. There was no sign of fish either, large or small. Just quiet. Nothing stirred and there was no ripple on the water. For a few minutes I marvelled at the quiet of nature. Would it be an omen for the week?

Sadly not. Every night this week the nightmares have returned and my sleep has been uneasy and broken. It is like being in a state of extreme agitation and anxiety. Strange thing is I have no idea why. Is it the coming of my holiday? Last year was marred by such interruptions. Or is it my elevated mood? If anything will bring me down and potentially send me into free-fall it is bad sleep. God I hope not.

Tomorrow I will leave, close my door, and try to forget the impending storm. The storm will come; of that I'm sure. If my mood holds I will be fine. If not I could be in trouble. Is it too much to do the MSc, work, and be governor? We will find out.

For now though I relax at home and relish the end of yet another long journey. With luck when I come home from Spain the first copy "Charon's Ferry" will be lying on my doormat. Now that will fuel the mood. Here is hoping.

I Heard a Voice.

Cultural Terror.

When I was the train to London yesterday I thought I was in for a spectacular afternoon of culture followed by a fine dinner with friends. I have seen the Royal Albert Hall on TV dozens of times but never really given any thought to what it is really like inside. Making my way through the tube I made it with time to spare. Little did I know I was in for an afternoon of sheer terror. Climbing the stairs there was no feeling of impending doom. That all changed as I emerged into the seating area on the 3rd tier. Before me a sheer drop. Very steep banks of seats looked top heavy and so exposed. Fighting my way through those already seated I was already sweating, dizzy, and heart racing. It is not a place for people with a fear of heights.

I barely moved a muscle for the next 2 1/2 hours. I was simply too terrified. At the interval I stayed put and dared not look down. But gradual my body and mind slowed down. Soothed by sublime music I made it through without running. And what music. The exception was the Verdi where they had not done the balance check well as I could barely hear the soprano about the orchestra. With the Tchaikovsky I heard her at here best-brilliant.

The descent at the end was terrifying but I had made it.. What followed was a splendid evening of food and drink with Katherine and Sonya. We also had surprise visitor, another of our teaching friends Antony. A splendid day.

As I sit peacefully on this Sunday afternoon, Mozart plays quietly, the pork is slow roasting and I'm doing very little. There is 1 week to go at work. Then I'm off. This time in 2 weeks I will be in the heat of Spain. Finally a holiday after a 7 year gap. I very much need it. Recharge then back into the fray in a month. Who knows what dark, trying, or divine moments lie ahead next year. What I do know is I'm in a much better place now than I was last year. Long may that last.

I Heard a Voice.

Special Offer!

If any of you reading in the UK are interested and don't have a copy already, my first book "A Pillar of Impotence" is currently on offer:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/A-Pillar-Impotence-Mark-Edgar/dp/1849913951/ref=pd_rhf_gw_p_t_3_0CWX

The follow up "Charon's Ferry" has been delayed again, maybe out in September.

I Heard a Voice.

A Semi Definite Plan.

It is but 2 weeks until I turn 44. With that comes the end of the summer. My question to myself is where on earth has it gone? Usually in the quiet of July and August the time drags slowly. Not this year. Too much catching up to do. So it is nearly over.

This time a year ago I was desperately trying to get out. A year on I'm still here. There is however now a definite plan. Well definite as long as I can secure funding. I have committed to the university for 1 more year by being accepted on the MSc in Mental Health Practice. After that it will depend on how the cards fall.

All that and the governor election have propelled my mood upwards. Long may it stay there but no to the feared mania.

The weekend is now here and once again I'm off on my travels. Tomorrow's destination is the Royal Albert Hall. I was 3 years old last time I was there. The event is my first ever prom. A serious musician (well retired) never having been to a prom? Well there you go. I will be treated to a medley of Dvorak, Verdi, Tchaikovsky and Stauss. I hope it is good. Then on to the Porcupine to meet my friends Katherine and Sonya before a venture to my beloved Chinatown-hurrah!

More on Sunday.

I Heard a Voice.

Spreading the Word.

Every now and again I get asked to do talks about my work. Usually that is within the context of the University but sometimes also outside. I never know what will be expected, asked, or what other people's agendas are. But I'm a good improviser. So I will take any questions people care to ask. Of the many that are asked of me there are 3 that are almost impossible to answer. Why don't I know about you? What do I do if the help doesn't help? Why don't we do more campaigning? At a talk today I was asked all 3.

In terms of answering those on here please note it is with caution. As someone said to me recently is it really a good idea that you put the link to this blog on Linkedin? But I will try.

1. I have no idea why people don't know about me. I'm in all the literature. I blog. I've been on student radio. I do induction talks. I teach. People recommend me. People see my picture following the 2 awards that weren't. Short of sending a personal e mail to 27,000 and 3,000 staff it is impossible to be known by all. Even if I was known to all many would have no interest, need, or in more extreme cases want to tell me to fuck off.

2. I can only refer, I cannot take responsibility for others not being helpful. Let's face it most of those who "treated" me for all those years were pretty useless. That doesn't mean to say they are bad people or they don't care. Maybe they just don't know the answers. This is as true of internal as well as external services. Some are good some less so. Yet I too am guilty of not being helpful to everyone. But not of us is God. We do not know all the answers. We can only do the best we can.

3. As for campaigning, by God have we tried. The result is usually no interest. I have spent a lot of time trying to do something for men's mental health. But no one showed up on the day. I am not a campaigner. If I were I might be a PR guru rather than a lowly MH advisor. Young people do not want to talk to a middle aged man about a message that doesn't interest them. Even Time to Change with all their resources have realistically low expectations on how many people's opinions they can change. What I can do is blog, be open, write, and talk. The real message must come from the young people themselves. In reality most fail as they only get to preach to the converted. Why would anyone have an interest in mental health unless they needed to? I certainly wasn't before I got ill.

I have little idea beyond numbers and places of who reads my blog. Well apart from my dad and a few friends. Do I help people on here? I don't know. But by doing it I am being honest and spreading the word to the best of my ability.

If you read either of my books you will realise how exposing I am in them. Few others would risk being open. But I didn't write them to make money or to be important. They are about spreading a message that says this is my story and I survived. That was not expected in the mid 1990s. If that inspires so be it. The same with my talks.

I wish every practitioner could help everyone they meet. But that won't happen. None of us is perfect.

Not sure if that is classed a rant. It wasn't intended that way. Today has not been my best day on a number of levels but tomorrow is another day, the sun will rise, and I will go out and do my best.

I Heard a Voice.

Savage Nature.

On Thursday and Friday I was able to witness the heron at the lake hunting for the first time. The lake if full of huge fish, far too big for the heron. But there are small fry too. Wading into the water the beautiful bird stood in perfect stillness before striking. The cycle of nature for all its savagery can be can be a marvel to behold.

Also hunting were the wasps. They have come late this year. I'm told gardeners like them as they hunt aphids but I can't stand them. Wasps and flies are the worst part of the summer. Yet soon it will be autumn and away it will all go, disappearing into the gloom that awaits us.

The lake aside Thursday and Friday were mixed for me. Thursday was marvellous although it meant saying goodbye to one of my nicest students. As I know she is reading, all I can say is well done-you have come so far in so short a time. Yesterday I came home feeling somewhat flat. It had been an odd day. I don't like it when I come away on a Friday thinking of the day and replaying it. In the evening I went to the Hedgehog but was largely distracted.

Today I feel okay, mood a little up, not too manic and achieved a few things. Haircut, shopping and cleaning-dull but necessary. I won't cook tonight but will finish my Vietnamese chicken curry that has been infusing for a couple of days. It was very fine first time around although it needed more chilli; I will add some later. Tomorrow I will cook Guinea fowl for the first time-let's hope it turns out well. More soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Delving Into a Tudor Past.

As I write I am listening to Byrd's 3 part mass. I have not sung that since touring Andalusia at Easter 1988. For the past decade or so I have slowly been trying to collect all the recordings I did at King's on CD. Not quite ventured into the iPod/download world yet. Alll of those recordings are at least 30 years old. Result, some are hard to find.

A few weeks ago with much delight I found at a good price the 3 Tudor Masses that I recorded back in 1980 and 1981. It were delivered this week. King's a had thing about Tudor and Renaissance music at the time as we had recorded Palestrina's Ave Maria Mass just prior to that. Today I listened to the Tallis Puer Natus Est, sometimes known as the Christmas Mass, and Byrd's 5 part Mass. All great classics but we feared singing them. Why? Well they are very long, long and difficult. In fact the first time we performed the Tallis it all collapsed. Yes even the greatest of choirs collapse sometimes. At the time though it didn't seem difficult, 5, 6, and indeed 7 part Masses. The 7 parter of Tye Euge Bone I listened to yesterday.

I listen now as someone approaching 44 with a greater understanding of the words, the music, and the history of the time. Funny what we learn with age. Bernie Rosen whom I've mentioned before on here once said to me "I think everyone should go to Cambridge but not until they are at least 40". In retrospect he was right. That was about all he was right about.

The music of the Tudors has been my backdrop to 2 markedly different days. Yesterday it seemed everything that could go wrong did. All were small things save some fool accidentally walking off with my medication from the chemist. Given that I had completely run out of the Holy Grail of risperidone it was a few minutes of extreme anxiety. Today was much better although it led to another trip to the chemist for antibiotics. So am on them for a week.

Mentally my mood remains high but not dangerous. Yesterday was just an aberration. Tomorrow will be good. Now to make shepherd's pie and listen further to glories of Byrd-check him out, he is very fine.

I Heard a Voice.

PS The Vietnamese chicken with ginger, honey and 5 spice I cooked earlier was most definitely a triumph!

Thank Goodness for Teenagers.

On Wednesday I finally entered the 21st century by getting an iPhone. All sounds very grand but I was fearful I would not know how to use it. But friends had told me they were easy. Going away at the weekend to a wedding made me not look in earnest at what it could do. What I had forgotten about would be the presence of teenagers. They are as a group much maligned. I recall my teenage years as being lonely, frightening and in the main unhappy. Glad I'm not one now as it seems society likes to put on them the root of all evils. But there is one thing I know of teenagers, they know technology.

I have known my friend Laura for 19 years. She was the first of my friends to have a child. Ashleigh turned 13 in July. Of course as soon as she saw my iPhone she wanted to play with it. After some reluctance she agreed not to play games but to set it up for various things. Thank God she did. Even she had trouble and after much annoyance I can now do more on it. I still have trepidation using it but that will dissipate in time.

The wedding was enjoyable although Ali the bride was very anxious. I stayed until 11.30 pm before tiredness overtook me. I got home this afternoon to cricket, the rain will save us, slow roast lamb cooking as I write, and a fine pint of Doombar with friends.

3 weeks to go. It remains quiet although I have had a couple of unexpected visitors. When I'm off that becomes someone else's problem. I need a break and with luck I can carry of my recent high mood through to the autumn. If it is anything like last year I will need it.

I Heard a Voice.