Weekend Mix Up.

My plan this weekend was to meet a former student for lunch to celebrate her qualifying as a teacher today then go to Cambridge tomorrow to watch the Pythons. Part the way through the former I realised through Facebook that I had actually got the wrong day of the Pythons. It was indeed this afternoon that they played. Football is supposed to be played on a Sunday. I had been aware there may be a problem but checking on the web it seemed the game was tomorrow. So no football for me this weekend although the Pythons did win; so a plus point there.

Back at home after a very pleasant lunch with Hannah-it is amazing how different my conversations with students are after they have left-I cooked a curry, listened to Jacqueline Du Pre's magical recording of the Elgar cello concerto, and contemplated what to do on my unexpectedly free Sunday. Nothing grand, just slow roast lamb, the Advent Carol Service I recorded in 1979, and relax. I need to do some study too. Actually I bumped into a fellow student from my course as I waited for Hannah. It never ceases to amaze me that given my history I'm now friends with a number of psychiatrists. How the world has changed.

Talking of psychiatrists, Jacek my former supervisor sent me very flattering but false e mail saying I was the "best one man CMHT in the county". Oh that he were my manager, might the world be different and my desire to leave may no be where it is now. But that is life I suppose.

And so I say goodbye to November. It has been a good month from hits on my blog. I hope you all enjoy what you see. See you in December.

I Heard a Voice.

Thanksgiving Day Memories.

On Thanksgiving Day 2003 I took a taxi from my new home in Folkestone to my mum and dad's house in Hythe to celebrate with turkey. It was a precarious journey as a car pulled out of a side road and forced my driver off the road and onto the pavement. Thank God no one was walking there. I had only moved out of home the previous summer. Mum thought it would be nice to have Thanksgiving Day dinner at home. It was a lovely evening with a fine crown and good fun. It is 1 of my happy memories of mum.

Over the next 7 years her mental health deteriorated badly. The final time I ate turkey with her was at Christmas in 2010. She had always suffered from abnormal anxiety. Most of my life she was unhappy if not depressed. By 2010 she also was creeping into dementia. It was not the happiest Christmas. She cooked the crown of turkey for 11 hours as she was convinced we would all get food poisoning. The following year she would experience the first such event without either of us there since we were born. She never saw another Christmas.

I have spent too much of my life regretting and second guessing and asking why. I cannot change my past, I wasn't there so we were not together. But on this day I remember that happy Thanksgiving all those years ago.

To all my friends in the USA-and there are many of you-may I wish you a very happy Thanksgiving. I have no turkey-bit much living on my own-but I am watching Green Bay and Detroit and trying to work out how in the world the Lions aren't up by about 40 points!

I Heard a Voice.

Another Time, Another Place.

Why do we meet the people in our lives where and when we do? The chance encounters of time and space are what populate our lives and make us who we are. Maybe it is fate, destiny, or God. Who knows. But I do sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if I had met people in another time and another place. I have experienced that twice this week. My path would be different.

The greatest and most influential chance meeting of my life was in Granada in 1990. As I've said before that was where I met Rachel. Who would we be had we never met? Might I still have gone mad? The answer to the latter is probably yes.

But I cannot live my life asking about the what ifs. There have been many. When I got better was when I stopped asking that question in my head. That is how I keep my demons at bay. Who will enter my life next to change the direction for good or ill? I don't know.

I Heard a Voice.

A Dream Vacation.

For the past couple of weeks my nights have been comparatively calm. Yes dreams have woken me but it has only been once or twice a night. After my recent months it was a blessing to get some better sleep. All that changed last night. I was up 4 times and the ashtray looked fuller than of late. Why as I plagued thus? I have no idea of the purpose of dreams-will Jung enlighten me-but I wish life would be with fewer of them.

My week went reasonably well. I spoke to Jayne who told me I sounded happy. As I ever I had to check with her to see if I was too manic-she said not. Tuesday and Wednesday were a little tricky but I think I'm in a good place.

I have had a quiet day, shopping, a pint of tribute, and domestic boredom. I bumped into Gary and Ali in town and have now been invited for lunch there. That is only the second such invitation I've had since I moved to Hertfordshire. As a child we were poor, ate vegetables out of the garden, had little meat and what we did have was cheap cuts. I well recall stuffed hearts-I loved them. Tomorrow I will re-acquaint myself with them. I'll let you know if my tastes have changed. My flat is looking more respectable now-will finish it off tomorrow. An evening of cricket lowlights awaits me-the 1st Test has gone disastrously wrong. Another post to follow.

I Heard a Voice.

A Surprise Outcome.

Do any of you lovely people out there in blogland ever find yourselves imagining what people are like before you meet them? I do. Visually I'm always wrong but in character less so. For some of the students I have a picture of what they are like from what others tell me or what they have written on the screening form we use. For others they just ring and come. If forewarned by others I'm usually right; today I was wrong.

I met a new student today and was completely wrong. I expected it not to go well. Much to my surprise it was a delightful conversation. But my conversations are not about me being right or because they make me feel good. Those are incidental bonuses. What I know is that today I did some good; and that is the measure I use. Having learned perhaps more about depression in 40 minutes than ever before and coming to the realisation that some people can understand it she commented that "you're not like anyone else"-hurrah!!!! Music to my ears. She will be back.

Now home in the warm waiting for winter to close in as expected tomorrow I'm listening to Verdi's "Les Vepres Siciliennes" and supping a beer. It was preceded by a fine Vietnamese pork curry with lemongrass. I'm so virtuous I added some vegetables-mum would be very proud.

Let's hope tomorrow is as good as today.

I Heard a Voice.

Rolling Back the Years.

Cambridge looks after its own. 35 years have now passed since my long association with the greatest University in the world began. For it was in September 1978 that I joined King's College choir. I have had 3 stints in Cambridge, 1978-1983, 1988-1991, and 1999-2000. It is my spiritual home and I very much hope that 1 day I return there.

This weekend I went to Cambridge and Cambridge came to me. I spent a lovely day out there yesterday. It was trip full of memories but no flashbacks. I did a lot of thinking. My demons are at bay now. The day was almost spoiled by those odious, arrogant and patronising idiots that King's employs to keep the public out. I am not the public. As I queued for evensong, yes I do have to, I was appalled by their attitude. When I got in I was offered the best seat in the house. Preceding that I had a splendid lunch with a former tutor, I had a trip to the Maypole and added to my collection on CDs. It was good day. Shame Jayne was away, it would have been nice to her.

Today my beloved Pythons came to Hertfordshire to play American football. Yes I work at Hertfordshire and am a part time student by my loyalty was closer to home. We lost but it was a brave fight minus 10 of their best players against the most successful and most heavily resourced team in the university league.

Back home I cooked some pork which was good. I ate late though as it took longer to cook than I anticipated. I find myself feeling a little optimistic than of late, long may that last.

I Heard a Voice.

Practising What I Preach.

When I meet and support members of staff at work I always advise them against checking e mails and leaving work mobiles on when they are not at work. Most feel compelled to do this but it is a simple way of protecting one's mental wellbeing. My mobile goes off as soon as I leave work unless I have specific calls to make. I do not not as rule check e mails at weekends but I do ignore my own advice and scan them. Foolishly today I did just that. There was a nice e mail from a former student, I read that 1. More ominously there was an e mail from my friend Geri. She never contacts me at weekends unless something has happened. Today she e mailed. It remains unopened but I know it will bring bad news. A sense of deja vu is engulfing me.

Yesterday was a triumph, today is less so. It has the feel of the morning after the night before. I left the pub very late and did not wake up until 11.45. My friend Richard failed to turn up for lunch and his phone was off. I had an unpleasant e mail from a woman I knew 30 years ago telling me how bad my new book is. As for lunch, bland, overcooked and didn't feel like eating it. Most went in the bin.

So how to rescue today. Well the chardonnay is good, the Mozart Great Mass is playing and I'm enjoying reading "Charon's Ferry". Of course I have had many more good comments about it than bad but sometimes the bluntness of the mentally ill-yes she has schizophrenia-can be unsettling. So I will settle back with my Mozart and try not to think too much.

I Heard a Voice.

A Gift From the Gods.

At about 9.45 this morning I was rudely awakened by a thud as the post hit the doormat. Ordinarily on a Saturday I would not be best pleased. Today however I was heartened for I knew what it was. I slept on for another 45 minutes before getting up, making coffee, and putting the heating on. Only then did I open the package that had arrived via dad. Finally I had my hard copy of "Charon's Ferry" in my hand. There is something marvellous about physical incarnation of a book I have written. There are few feelings better.

I went to the Waggoners for lunch with Joey and Richard, did some shopping then read. I'm about a 1/5 the way through and so far only 3 errors. Last time all I saw was my mistakes. Today I saw a story. A story that some have called inspiring.

Next Thursday I will be giving a talk and displaying my gifts from the gods. Few people ever get published but it has happened to me twice. My audience will be a room full of trainee psychotherapists. Let us hope I can provide more inspiration and wisdom than the fools who tried to therapise me!

So back to Saturday. West Ham are about to kick off at Carrow road. I will cook a chickpea and chorizo stew then the drinks will flow. I have waited a long time for this moment. Best enjoy it to its full!

I Heard a Voice.

A Day Without Food.

The more observant of you and regular readers will recall that this blog is dedicated to mental health and food. Ironic then that the highest post views were for 2 pieces I wrote on not eating as I was ill. Today is another of those posts. Yes yesterday, for the 5th time in the last 6 months I was struck down by a bug and unable to eat. I actually feel much better today although not firing on all cylinders.

Dory text me today wondering why it is that I have been so prone to such ailments in recent months. I do not know the answer to that. I hope it is nothing sinister. But there is a precedent that plays a critical role in the climax of "A Pillar of Impotence".

When I had my devastating relapse in November 2000 the urgent referral my GP made back to mental health services was ignored. A 2nd referral was made and in the December I finally got to se a junior Doctor. She is course had access to the lies writeen about me from 8 years of service use and was guided by them. She was a fool. As ever the response was change the medication. They offered mirtazepine. It was supposed to stop my suicidal mania, my deep depression and my insomnia. It did none of those.

Then strange things started to happen. I had series of ear infections that failed to respond to treatment. My GP feared I would lose my hearing in my right ear. My stomach felt as if I had food poisoning for the next 6 months. Every cough and cold came my way. Yet I had a history of good resilient physical health. After that services abandoned me.

The following summer I stormed into the mental health team reception ranting and raving about them abandoning me and leaving me with severe physical problems. I saw a Doctor quickly. He left. Only at that moment did the critical revelation happen in my life. I met a new shrink who listened to me. We worked together. She gave me choice. And then she gave me risperidone. Finally the light came on. I've never really looked back. And now here I am today.

As for mirtazepine I shudder when I hear that word. Afterwards I found out it had a rare side effect that attacked the immune system. That was what happened with me.

Hopefully the present spate of ill health is purely down to bad luck.

I Heard a Voice.

The Leaves That are Green Turn to Brown.

A bitter swirling wind swept across the lake this morning. Bathed in brilliant autumn sunshine I shivered in a coat and admired my place. There was no sign of the heron. Apart from the odd dragonfly on the last days of its life cycle the insects have gone. The fallen leave of the season litter its shallow depths. This time of year reminds me of that haunting Simon and Garfunkel song "The Leave That a Green". It tells of a fading love affair as the fall comes. I once read a book on Paul Simon that talked of his doomed relationship with an English girl called Kathy. "Kathy's Song" haunted my madness for years. It still makes me think when I listen today but like so much of the those dark days in my life their impact is lessened all these years later.

Today did not go according to plan. So far this year there have been few dramatic unexpected moments. They will come but I felt a little at sea this day. I must steel myself for the storm that has yet to break.

Back at home with heat restored I had planned to study tonight. But my software is older than that used for the course materials so it is another day lost. I worry about getting behind. I guess I will have to print stuff off and spend tomorrow evening doing it.

For now I listen to Mozart, have a beer, and read my book. The prize of "Charon's Ferry" has yet to get into my hands. They sent 1 but it never arrived. They have promised another is on the way. It has been too long a wait. Time marches on though whatever sort of day I'm having. Soon enough it will be in my grasp.

I Heard a Voice.