The Great Scandal.

The past few years have seen the political, media, and public official worlds rocked by scandal. The so called "phone hacking scandal" has burst back into the public eye with a major court case that opened this week. On trial are a range of journalists mainly from the now defunct News of the World newspaper accused on hacking the phones of public figures and members of the public of media interest and offering bribes to get news scoops. The most high profile of them are 2 former editors Rebekah Brooks and Andy Coulson. The latter brought it to the heart of political power by being appointed chief spin doctor to David Cameron before the coalition came to power in 2010. The former Deputy Prime Minister John Prescott for whom I once indirectly worked has been talking about it for years. But it took the appalling hacking of the phone of a 13 year old girl murdered by a serial killer that exploded the whole thing. The offending newspaper closed down within a week.

I do not profess to understand such things but today's revelation that the 2 editors on trial had an affair for at least 6 years strikes me as supremely ironic. It is exactly the sort of behaviour that both sought to expose in their tabloid. There is a certain perverse feeling to that, that the world doesn't know. Of course all this has no bearing on my life. I am a nobody. What I do know is that were I a somebody my entire life would be known to the media in a matter of days. Let's hope I never become famous. But I do look forward to other trial revelations.

I spent the afternoon studying today. Made a lot of progress which makes me laugh about the changes that are in the offing in my life. Maybe I should have read change literature earlier. It will all come out in the wash no doubt; we learn more in 3 years time.

The backdrop to my afternoon of study was Offenbach followed by Paganini. A very civilised way to do it. Now as it is pay day I'm off to see Lin and Yan in the Fu Hao; it's been a while since I went there. So here is to ribs and Tsing Tao.

I Heard a Voice.

A Young Voice.

The radio has moved on from Lully to Haydn this week. I've always loved Haydn since my singing days. Dad pulled off a master stroke last Christmas by securing his complete works on CD. But I'm still enjoying his story when I get home in the evening. Sadly today I had to come home early for a failed attempt to meet the heating engineer-my boiler is still struggling. He comes again on Friday.

Mentally I'm not sure what I feel. I survived the great storm. Lots of trees down but I was safe. It is a feeling of nothing. Not all is going to plan but much is out of my control.

There was however a saving grace. K, my student in California wrote a very poignant piece for the university magazine on her battles with depression. Much to my surprise she mentioned me by name and contrary to what I always felt she found it really helpful. She has done more to challenge stigma there in 1 piece than I have done in 6 years. The reality is young people don't want to listen to a middle aged not very successful Cambridge graduate unless they are in trouble. Mental health promotion is so hard but it takes a young voice to reach out to the young. I know K will read this from California so as I said in my e mail, well done.

Tomorrow I hope I will feel something other than cold. I will study then and try to make sense of my MSc. Unusually for me I have no expectation of the outcome; just getting through will do me. It is daunting in some ways but I felt better after meeting the other students last week. Maybe I will blog again tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.

Back to the 1970s.

My mum always used to tell a story that she took me to my first curry house at about a week old. I guess my mum and dad were quite adventurous in those days. They had a friend who ran a curry house and their son was born in the same week as me. We moved away from Surrey on my birthday in 1974. If I recall we paid one more visit to our friends during the Silver Jubilee celebrations in June 1977. I wonder where they are now?

Mum used to make beef curries in those days in the same way that everyone did in the 1970s. Basic compared to the original and a very British way of doing it. Mum's were usually too hot for me but I did love the cardamom she used.

Trying to think what to cook yesterday and having bought some beef I decided to go back to those days and see what happened. Garam masala, turmeric, fiery Indian chillies formed the base but it was the addition of desiccated coconut and sultanas that really took me back in time. And it was a triumph. Rick Stein called the recipe British Beef Raj curry. I'm sure natives to the Indian sub continent would have been appalled but it did the trick on a Saturday evening.

Away from the kitchen we are expecting a great storm in southern England tonight. Some are saying it might be the worst since the epic hurricane of 1987. Time will tell. I content myself with sitting in the warm, relaxing and slow roasting shoulder of pork. After several days of not feeling well it is good to be back to normal.

I Heard a Voice.

Back to School.

I recall from my childhood how soul destroying it was seeing "Back to School" notices all over the shops during the first week of the long summer holidays. Today I went back to school for the first time since 2000. Well that's not strictly true as I was forced to do a pointless NVQ 3 when I worked at CMHT. As it was pointless that didn't count.

Yes indeed I did make it to my first study day of my MSc. I'm still full of cold and feeling wiped out but I knew I couldn't miss it so in I went. Well it was a good day. I was anxious that I was far behind already given my recent health misfortune, time constraints, and my childish attempts to get the university's on line study facility work. In fact I was ahead of the games. So far so good. It did tire me out though.

There are of course strengths and weaknesses to all universities. In these days of fair access, equality, outreach one of the great strengths of our place is its diversity. Across the institution approximately 40% of students are from BME backgrounds. I never saw that in my day in Cambridge. In my group I am very much the ethnic minority. I heard a recent story about alleged discrimination against BME doctors in the NHS examinations. Clearly whoever did that research did not look at mental health. In my world there is a very healthy ethnic balance. I'm also in a minority in that I am 1 of only 2 non psychiatrists, the over 12 are all doctors. Very nice group though.

Back at home after some very nice twice cooked Szechuan pork I'm listening to a programme on the radio about Jean Baptiste Lully. I first came across him in the 3rd form at school. Today we would call it year 9-horrible group to teach. All I can recall is that he had an unhealthy interest in children. World has moved on thank God. Most of his adult life was spent at the court of the Sun King Louis XIV. There are hints of what Handel later did, the 2 overlapping for only the first 2 years of the latter's life. Good listening-never heard opera in French.

I am making a concerted effort to watch less TV, listen to more music and do a hell of a lot more reading. Hence an evening with the radio and my book. I do hope the cold lifts soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Coughing and Spluttering.

For the last 2 weeks of so I have been holding off the cold that has been scything its way through the people who populate my little world. I didn't so much feel ill just having a very back cough, blocked sinuses and multiple sneezing fits. That was until today when I succumbed to it in all its facet. I woke up barely able to speak, coughing my lungs out and feel very run down. I called in to cancel today then retired to bed. 2 1/2 later I was woken by a dream of mum. She looked younger than she did at the end of her life and had lost weight. Not sure if it was a good or a bad dream but dreams of mum are very unsettling.

Sadly I was unable to get a day just laying down and resting. My need for paper and crap food drove me into town for a while. Tomorrow is the first day of my MSc and search as I did in my flat I could not find paper to make notes on. I returned full of exhaustion. I'm now listening to radio 3 in anticipation of choral evensong at 3.30 pm. It is from the archives of 1981 when I had more hair, was shorter, lighter, and prior to mental illness taking over my life. Yes King's are on then. In the meantime I write this piece.

I did manage some reading. Not course reading as I planned but a rather fine book that a friend recommended which I started on Friday. If you are as sceptical about therapy as I am you must read "Gabriel's Angel" by Mark A Radliffe. I haven't stopped laughing since I started:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Gabriels-Angel-Mark-Radcliffe/dp/0955336783/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1382536265&sr=1-1&keywords=gabriels+angel

Talking of books I'm still waiting for my copy of "Charon's Ferry". It is taking an awfully long time. But it will get here in the end.

I have to be better tomorrow. Whatever tomorrow brings I will make it to my study day. I'll report back later.

I Heard a Voice.

Slow Journey, Friendly Face.

It was not a good journey back from Kent today. The rain was pouring, we almost missed the train and there were no trains home beyond Alexandra Palace. So it was onto  a bus which made the trip more than an hour longer than normal. Seeing the floods on the road in north London there must have been a hell of a downpour. And we woke up to a sunny day in Kent.

As the rain came down I headed for a taxi to be greeted by a young Muslim driver with the traditional beard. Many of the drivers where I live come down from Luton where there is a large Asia community. I don't like the daily racist comments I hear around here. It has of course got worse since 9/11. For all people's foolish arrogant attitudes it was all proved wrong today. He was a charming polite young man. We talked of his homeland in Bangladesh, of his culture, his food and of course Eid. Why people have to be so bigoted and rude I have no idea. The man I met today was delightful. As he dropped me off he said "I enjoyed talking to you". As nice end to a difficult journey.

You may have worked out from my last post that it was a difficult week for me. Escaping to see dad was just what I needed. We all met up for Sunday lunch today in the Castle-very good carvery. I don't know when I will be down again. Maybe Christmas, maybe before. I have good friends there so in tough times it is a haven.

Tomorrow is very full on but I will have a nice break for lunch with Dory-ribs at China Sky-real Chinese food!

I Heard a Voice.

Almost Speechless.

Rare is the day when something surprises me. That is the nature of my life, little or nothing is too mad in my world. But the last 24 hours have ranked up there as amongst the most dumbfounding of the last few years. I have spoken on here to my cost of my desire for change. Last night the nature of that change came early.

Had I known then what I know now I would not have committed to the plan such as is it a few months ago. Yes I will go through with the MSc-too committed not to-but the outcome whatever I perceived it to be when I made that decision will in no way aid my cause.

It was once said of James VI of Scotland and James I of England that he was "the wisest fool in Christendom". I feel like the most foolish fool in Christendom today. We will see how the future plays out but I will return in a years time to what I have been doing for the last year, trying to make change happen.

For now I dwell on my foolishness. Did I do good today? Yes but it is swamped in my flawed mind by other things. The curse of a mood disorder.

I Heard a Voice.

Paperback Writer-"Charon's Ferry" is Published!

Hi everyone on a grim and wet day in Hertfordshire. Not weather for going out but good for country pubs with roaring fires. So off we toddled to the Horns at Datchworth for some fine roast beef and venison. Having had a rare for me 3 courses I feel full to bursting point. Cue a rest at home before the NFL games this evening.

My previous 2 posts both mentioned World Mental Health Day. It was good day in more ways than 1. Not only did I go to a fine conference and Brandon Marshall made his statement it was very special for me as it was the day on which "Charon's Ferry" finally came out in paperback! It has been a long journey but we have reached our destination at last. If you are interested go to the link below:

http://chipmunkapublishing.co.uk/?page_id=314

It is not currently on other sites and the price quoted includes p&p. Have fun reading if you humour me by buying it. Well someone has to buy it....other than my dad and sister. More soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Making a Statement.

On Thursday Night Football in the NFL this week the New York Giants played the Chicago Bears in Chicago. October is a month in which we see a lot of pink worn in the NFL in support of Breast Cancer Awareness month. You will also recall from my last post that it coincided with World Mental Health Day.

So why am I mentioned American football and mental health? Well yesterday Bears wide receiver Brandon Marshall wore luminous green shoes in direct contravention of NFL rules. He will be fined for that. The question is why?

Well a couple of years ago Marshall openly admitted that he had been diagnosed with and treated for Borderline Personality Disorder. Given that he is an extremely talented, big, strong and fast receiver who year after year is in the top 10 for receptions this explained why he had been through 3 different teams in his career. NFL teams do not give away that sort of talent. He had a reputation for being moody, emotional, unpredictable and some say unreliable. BPD explains a lot of that.

Marshall wore his green shoes on World Mental Health Day to publicise mental ill health and BPD specifically. Fantastic Brandon. Just so sad that the NFL chooses to support 1 worthy cause yet fines a player for supporting another. Perhaps the double standards we have to expect when it comes to mental health have come to the fore once again. Incidentally he has also said he will match any fine with a donation of his our to his foundation to fight for the cause.

I Heard a Voice.

Inspired on World Mental Health Day!

Today is a very special day for people like me. It is World Mental Health Day. My illness emerged in all its destructive power at about 9.30 am on Saturday 16th June 1990. Yes it is that defined. For years I would not admit it or talk about it. Except to my people. That is others who are or were mentally ill. We didn't celebrate madness in those day. But we do now.

I always feel a fraud on this day as I really ought to have set up some grand series of events that will change people's minds at the university. But campaigning on that scale is not a strength on mine. Coupled with it falling in week 2 of our new academic year we rarely get enough interest or time to prepare. After all no one is here over the summer. I campaign through this blog, by my teaching, my talks, my books and my practice. Those are my fortes.

That said I'm never idle on this day. This year I went to the annual HPFT Recovery Conference in Stevenage. I came away not with great pearls of wisdom on how to improve our service at the university, no great advice to colleagues and certainly nothing I can summarise to justify my day away. What I did get was a sense of inspiration and invigoration after hearing such wonderful presentations by those with lived experience. In my language the mad.

Tomorrow I go back to normality with the knowledge that those who do go into recovery-and recovery is a journey not a destination-have so much to give to all of us. Without my breakdown the lives of the few 100 students I have seen in the last 6 years would have been different. That may be for good or ill but for some I do make a difference. The hard part is hanging onto that when the dark clouds engulf me again. Today I'm well but I know the clouds will come some day.

I Heard a Voice

Beautiful Day, Ugly Lunch.

What a beautiful day. The sun is out, it is nice and warm, and there is no sign of any rain. A perfect autumn day. I have just got back from a post lunch walk. Such a glorious day to walk down the Digswell Road with the red, yellow and gold hues that make it look more like New England than Hertfordshire. All seems like it is well. There is a but though. Sadly lunch was awful.

Bland, tough, chewy lamb, insipid grey gravy, overcooked leeks, and undercooked sprouts; it really wasn't one of my better efforts. I had really been looking forward to that. Certainly the last time I buy that allegedly upmarket lamb from a well known supermarket that will remain nameless. The only saving grace was a fine glass of rioja from a budget supermarket-sometimes cheap can be great.

Back at home I'm listening to Billie Holiday and contemplating doing the washing up. I plan to make a shepherd's pie with the left over lamb, really must add a lot to it to make it taste at least of something. Yet despite the mixed fortune of the day my mind remains upbeat. With luck this time next week I will be the proud owner of the very first copy of "Charon's Ferry" to come off the press. Yes ladies and gentlemen, that time is nearly upon us.

I Heard a Voice.

Appetite Restored.

Well after 2 days of feeling rotten normal service seems to have been restored. I had a terrible night with dreams but didn't feel too bad when I did get up. Cue a trip to Old Hatfield for breakfast in the Eight Bells and a pint of Doombar. All very civilised. The breakfast was excellent with the bacon tasting as my grandma used to cook. God that was a long time ago.

The afternoon was devoted to reading and the "Messiah" followed by putting together my first ever Lancashire Hotpot. There is a fine smell emanating from the kitchen and I have just put on the great God that is Bob Marley. So here's to Saturday and health restored!

I Heard a Voice.

PS Where have all my American readers gone? No dieting tips so no audience!

Supersized Diet-Only in America!

Given that this blog is dedicated to mental health and food it is supremely ironic that the 2 most viewed posts of all time are about not eating and dieting. Yes, yesterday's post really pumped up the volume on visits to my blog. Since May I have posted 2 posts whilst ill and unable to eat much. Partly that shows my bad luck in the last few months in stomach bugs; this is 4th I have had this year. But more importantly it shows that dieting and weight loss are more popular subjects that mental health and food. The common denominator? The USA.

Considering my passion for American football it might strike the reader as odd that I have never been there. When I left Cambridge when my breakdown happened and I battled madness I had a great zeal to go but lacked the money. Now even though I have more money I still can't afford to go. Maybe 1 day.

Currently 2 of my students are in the USA either studying or doing a work placement. The 1 in California has already blogged on how colossal American portioons of food are. This confirms what I have learned from other friends who have visited that mighty country. As an occasional viewer of "Man vs Food" on TV I think I would just be sick. When I go out to eat I always have small portions or leave half of it. For a foodie I have remarkably small appetite. I'm more interested in the cooking than the eating.

From the response to the 2 blogs on weight loss I guess there is a great market across the pond for advice on dieting. I'm afraid to all my friends there I am simply not the person to ask. But it is nice to have so many viewers.

As for me I'm still not well. I have eaten a can of soup and a salad in the last 48 hours. I'm supposed to be going out later and if I do I will eat little. Go away bug, I want to get back to normal even if I'm not as healthy as I might be. In anticipation I'm planning on cooking Lancashire hotpot for the first time in my life tomorrow; let's hope I make it.

I Heard a Voice.

Crash Diet.

There are many ways to lose weight so I'm told. Cut out fat, sweets, sugar, carbohydrates, alcohol. Do more exercise. Eat more vegetables. Eat less. Eat more healthily. Dieting is not something that crosses my mind much. I am I suppose a little overweight. My normal pre risperidone weight was 9 stone. Now I hover below, at or just above 10 stone. True I eat too much belly pork and ribs. I love roast potatoes. I no longer exclusively eat the Far Eastern diet of when I first got my own place. I drink too much. Barring walking I do far too little exercise. And yes I do have to take risperidone. But it is not unmanageable. I had a rare conversation on weight last night in the Hedgehog when I noticed that Tony the landlord had lost weight. He has made a conscious decision to cut out carbohydrates and beer. Good for him. There is of course another way to lose weight and that is to get ill. Today I woke up ill.

When I was child and I was sick my mum used to cut out all food-seemed mad at the time-and force me to drink disgusting medicine the name of which in shrouded in the mysteries of my mind. At school matron used to just starve us. Neither worked very well. Having spent most of this morning either in the bathroom or asleep I decided a better method was to eat a little. So a can of leek and potato soup later I am still alive. I feel drained, fatigued and flat. That is okay though, given time it will pass. Whether I have picked up another bug or am just reacting to the extremely fierce Vietnamese chicken curry I made last night who knows. What I do know is that I'm not up to much.

"Peter Grimes" is playing, the rain is falling, it is gloomy enough to have the lights on, and I'm just sitting it out. Shame really as they are interviewing for a new counsellor at work today and I hoped to meet the candidates. Actually I know 2 of them already but it would have been nice to meet the others.

Who knows, maybe I will lose weight. Or maybe it will go in a day and I will return to my less than healthy way of life. What I do know is that I certainly don't fancy a beer and that is unusual. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.