The Russian Doll.

When I was a very young child we had a friend who lived a few doors down called Michael. His mum was Russian and his dad drove an E Type Jaguar. I didn't understand its iconic status then but it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. E Types aside, his mum introduced me to Russian Dolls, you know the ones where you open it and inside are many smaller dolls. Layer after layer. That was mesmerising too. So why this today?

Well I am full of anxiety, low, listless and aimlessly wandering. In what is likely to be my final post of 2013 you find me sinking. As I wandered pointlessly about the town where I work I thought of anxiety and what it does to people. I'm never at my best with students with anxiety but the one thing I always say is it is fear of what might happen rather than what really happens. It is the Russian Doll from the inside. Each anxiety breeds another, and another, and yet more. Soon the anxiety has snowballed into a huge doll the size of which it is impossible to comprehend. That is how I feel on the last day of this year.

Distraction should help but doesn't. I need to get on with my MSc but my mind is elsewhere. Sure as night follows day, depression will follow anxiety.

But my troubles can wait as I have just heard the news that my friend Jeff died today. He has been battling cancer and I visited him a year ago when he was given only a few weeks to live. Well he fought hard and made it to a year. I will forgive him for being a Liverpool supporter but on days like today I hope my mum's beliefs about an after life are true and one day I will sit in a bar somewhere with Jeff talking about nothing in particular. I need to focus on that not some trivial earthly trouble.

I'm sorry this is such a low post, it is how I feel. That aside I wish you all a very happy New Year and a prosperous 2014.

I Heard a Voice.

Jack Frost Comes.

Another place another nightmare. Actually it was 4 nightmares last night and early this morning. It has been a very bad dreaming holiday. There is no explanation, I'm under no stress at all. I saw a book by Freud about dreams yesterday, perhaps I should buy it.

As you will gather I'm back at home in Hertfordshire. My troubled night was marked by cold and I opened the curtains this morning to reveal a sharp frost and bitter temperatures. It really is cold out there despite the glorious winter sunshine.

By means of a change today I took another venture into my past. I was introduced to the music of Michael Head by my eccentric singing teacher at school. He was a strange man who I always felt had an unhealthy interest in young men. Nothing ever happened but he did make me feel uncomfortable at times. After many years I finally found a CD of Head's songs which dad you got me for Christmas. This morning I heard the hauntingly beautiful song cycle "Over the Rim of the Moon". That has not come to my ears since I performed it in my last ever concert of my school career in the summer of 1988. Most agreed it was not my finest performance. Mum complained that the piano was too loud. But it is a tough ask of an 18 year old to sing it in its entirety to 500 people. The year before I had sung the same composer's "The Singer" and blown the audience away. Those were the old days before madness. I was an arrogant fool then. Perhaps I still am.

The cold will keep me indoors today. Mozart will follow on from Head and the days of my holiday will pass. Soon I will be back in the melee. But before then there is slow roast pork, Rioja, and reading to do. See you all soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Winter Sun.

A bright winter sun greeted my- as I emerged late the morning after the night before. It was cold though. What a night it was. We surpassed last year's epic by about 3 1/2 hours and I got home at about 1.45 am. Today I did not pay a hangover price, more a nightmares and exhaustion price. For the first time in years I decided against going to the Boxing Day run. This did not go down well as I received a barrage of texts requiring me to go. In fact I went back to bed. Not sure what I feel now but I will head for the Butt later.

This week has gone fast. Depending on how ferocious tonight's predicted storm is I plan to drive back home on Saturday. If there is travel disruption I might wait until Sunday.

I have been very lucky with presents this year. But most important of all was a short poetry book Miriam gave me. Turning to her poem published on page 116 I was stunned the read about me. It was an amazing piece that shows how far I have come from the darkness into the light. I almost cried. I never really think of people viewing me in the that way. I guess I make a mark sometimes.

Nearly time to eat so will be away. Maybe back tomorrow on here or at the weekend. I hope everyone had peaceful and happy Christmas and let's all pray for a prosperous New Year.

I Heard a Voice.

The Storm is Over.

Well we all made it in one piece through the vicious storm of last night. No damage here, my car is alive and kicking and Miriam and Nigel had a good journey down. So we commence the festivities.

Today has been spent wrapping, organising, cheese buying, wine selecting and cooking curry goat. It looks and smell delicious after what appeared a slow start. Still haven't got used to using an aga but getting there. Everything is delivered to Beka's so no last minute scrabbles before the big day. Dad will go to church and we will go to the pub. He'll pick us up from there to go for the gargantuan feast that awaits at Beka's. They looked a little stressed when I went round but all will be right on the night.

That just leaves me the wonderful task of wishing my readers world wide a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Stay safe and enjoy the holiday. I may be back tomorrow, depends on how much wine I drink!

I Heard a Voice.

Wet and Wind Swept!

I write today from dad's house. The wind is howling, the rain squalling and it's very dark and gloomy-not the Garden of England at its best. I drove down yesterday to avoid the bad weather. Miriam has to work today so has to risk it tomorrow. Good luck to her, the Dartford Bridge has closed today. My trip was very pleasant, Sunday is a good day to drive.

The season of Christmas is almost upon us and I'm finally able to put aside thoughts of the university for a while. I've also given myself a week off study. Now I'm doing what I do best, party and cook. There is a pork and herb terrine cooking away in the bottom of the aga. I will leave it a couple of days to cool and weight it down for more compact finish. In the not too distant future-maybe an hour-I will start making beef in beer which will cook along merrily for a couple of hours. Tomorrow if and when Miriam and Nigel get here I will undertake my first ever curry goat. Definitely looking forward to that one although I'm not brave enough to use the purists scotch bonnet chillies!

Mentally I'm doing okay, maybe around +1 of my scale. Given recent events I can live with that. Forgot to do my mood diary before I came here so will have to catch up on my return.

On the day itself we are all going up to Beka's. There will be 10 of us. I'm only assisting with the food. I have finished my shopping but have a lot of wrapping to do-I hate wrapping.

Tomorrow I will blog a Christmas message. Another year gone, another year older. Take care out in the storm if you are UK based.

I Heard a Voice.

Whispers From a Distant Land.

Words can be so powerful. I try to create images with words in my books. The skill of my job is the use of words. Words can stun a room as they did the day we launched "A Pillar of Impotence" and the day we had mum's funeral. Yesterday I was struck silent-that is rare-by a voice from my past.

The voice is very significant as she knew me before my madness and also knew Rachel. The owner of that voice is someone I have looked for over the years after we lost touch in the mid to late 1990s. Yesterday she found me.

I know I really shouldn't read work e mails when I'm on holiday but I do scan. Yesterday morning I picked up an e mail from a name I didn't recognise entitled "a blast from the past". Intrigued I opened it and there was a message from someone I miss and whose kindness marked the early years of my madness and my poor response to that kindness. The mad aren't always nice, some like I was then are self obsessed.

She has ordered my book and seemed delighted that I am doing what I do, making a mark. But more importantly she said she was glad I was alive. Given how precarious life was in those days they were truly profound and moving words. She too has found her way in life overcoming many years of depression that I singularly failed to understand until madness hit me.

Those days are long gone, the people scattered, changed, and in different orbits to mine now. But it was nice to hear such a whisper from my past, from before and after. I am really glad she got in touch. Bit worried what she might make of the book though-as far as I'm aware no one from those days who knew has read it. Let us hope Rachel does not come searching too; she won't, of that I'm certain.

And to tonight. Work Christmas party. Not been since 2009. Hoping for a good night. For now I listen to "Aida" whilst I should be studying.

I Heard a Voice.

A Most Inauspicious Start.

My Christmas holiday began today a day late, with a blizzard of nightmares, news of the Ashes lost and total exhaustion. You can tell from my last post I was not very happy on Friday. My extra day at work did not go well, lasted 10 hours, and I didn't get home until 8.30 pm. Rare is the day I have to get people locked up but those are always the worst. But I did what I needed to do. Have to go in again tomorrow to collect my diary, get various tickets I need and to write up the debacle of the last few days.

With luck I will sleep better tonight. Tomorrow brings governor's drinks at Trust Head Office-still struggling with the idea that I am important in some circles-then a relaxed evening of curry and beer. I did manage to do some study, never thought I would take to on-line lectures but it was surprisingly useful.

As we are going to Beka's and there will be other guests for Christmas I need to do some extra shopping. Finances do not look going after an unplanned plumber visit and the admin-ripoff-fee on my final car payment on 20th. Then I will be free of debt.

My plan is to drive down to dad's on Sunday. Miriam comes on Tuesday so I need to think of all the culinary delights from the festive season. I'll let dad do the shopping. Before then I have the staff Christmas party and I need to do some more study. Shame I missed the Carol Service in Chelsea yesterday but it couldn't be helped. Nice to see some fight in England after the pathetic display in the first 3 Tests. Better luck on Boxing Day in Melbourne. I went to the MCG in 1983 although not for cricket. Richmond Tigers. Sadly I can't see the AFL here, got the wrong satellite package.

Might blog again tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.

Holiday, What Holiday?

In theory I'm now on holiday until 6th January. However, owing to events, failures, and general incompetence which is beyond my control I now have to go to work on Monday. It will be a day of tough decisions. Yes those, the ones I don't make! Oh I forgot about that. So where are the decision makers? Where do you think?

I came home after Friday's debacle exhausted and raging. But I did not fire off the torrent of angry e mails my mind wanted. That might have been foolish. I'm certainly not at all happy. Then again though I'm only a humble bottom feeder. More important people than me make those tough decisions

On this quiet Sunday afternoon with the "Magic Flute" playing I'm focusing on calming down. What will be will be. In a rare departure for a Sunday I'm cooking a curry later. This owes more to expiry dates and not back until late on Friday than some radical shift in my behaviour. I will return to the Sunday roast next week when I will be with dad. In the meantime I have to do some academic reading. But that can wait until Tuesday. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

Prelude to Judgement Day.

A few weeks into the first module of my MSc it has been an experience of mixed ups and downs. I go to each session feeling woefully unprepared. I'm then pleasantly surprised that I do get it. Then it is back to uncertainty. I have done some work and at times felt confident but until today that confidence had not been tested. Today we had to present an outline of our assignments on service improvement.

With an accompaniment of Wagner-God it goes on-I spent 3 hours last night fretting, doubting and thinking why on earth am I doing this. By about 10 pm I had 1100 words, an outline, and no idea if it was on the right lines. That doubt was further enhanced by re reading this morning. I thought it was shit.

Yet as I looked at previous projects it began to dawn on me that I was on the right track. The question was was I brave enough to present to my peers and tutor. The first 2 who presented were slated. So with great trepidation I volunteered to present. Apparently it was brilliant. I had got it. My tutor told me after that she had no worries at all. She enquired how I felt about presenting it to a dragon's den type panel as I will have to do in January. Facing year 9 in school has taught me never to fear such events. And with that I can march on. There will be doubts but I must trust myself.

The interesting thing is that it was not that the others didn't get it. It was just that they couldn't think in any other way apart from being a psychiatrist. How ironic is that, little me, who no one listened to for 10 years holding psychiatrists in awe. Strange too that they are now my friends. I'm learning more of that strange world. Let us hope they are receptive to change. They are all receptive to me-we are all students in that context. I wonder what it will be like if I relapse and am once again cast into the psychiatric system. Well they have to listen to me now-as a governor they accountable to me. Oh how my world has changed.

I only have 1 more day of work. 3 weeks off beckon to study, eat, drink, cook, and recharge. Then the onslaught begins again in January. Then too I face the dragons for real.

I Heard a Voice.

Missed me?

Have you missed me? It has been a whole week since I was last on here. My intention each evening for the last 6 days has been to blog. But it was not to be. It has been quite a week. So on a sunny Sunday morning to "The Marriage of Figaro" quietly playing I return to my loyal audience.

I come to you via "Othello", an important meeting, a carol service, a fine address by a controversial clergyman, Chinese food time 3, a study day, anxiety re that study, some Thai food, a visitor for dinner, a haircut, an MOT (it passed), and an idea from my dad about getting me nominated for a high profile award. So quite a week.

Thus I emerge a little closer to my holiday, only 1 more week of work, with something of a plan for the next month or so. I intend to recharge the batteries first and foremost followed by progression in the MSc. I should of course note on here the tragic death of a great man. I hope me fears that Nelson Mandela had been holding South Africa are without substance.

Back to today, I feel good. I will relish the Mozart, complete "Gabriel's Angel", find a little more out about the world and with luck have the contents of my survey for my MSc done and ready to send. There you go, a productive Sunday topped off with what I hope is some fine roast gammon. Have a great Sunday.

I Heard a Voice.

The Countdown Starts.

Rare are the occasions on which I attend church services these days. Wedding and funerals of course. Other than though nothing although I did go to King's a few weeks ago for evensong. The 2 services on which I would make exceptions are Remembrance Day and Advent Sunday. No chance of getting tickets for King's despite someone asking me recently if I got free tickets. In truth I've not been there since 1982. But there is a saving grace. And on this Advent Sunday I listened to the great recording I mentioned yesterday. A splendid way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

The countdown to Christmas starts here for me. In but 4 weeks it will all be over. I will visit dad and we have an away match at Beka's mum's this year for lunch. Let us hope we can match the glories of last year. It was superb then. I think I might get some white Rioja to bring along as we are eating chicken.

As for now I continue to listen to religious music and relax. The lamb goes in at 3 pm then eat about 7 pm. Tomorrow is a busy day; in fact all week is busy. I only have 2 weeks before my break. I do need to do some study then too. But Christmas is still Christmas so I will banish the thoughts of years ago into the new world I now inhabit. That is being well. Christmases are awful for depressed people. Thankfully those days appear past for the time being.

I Heard a Voice.