Chinese New Year.

Happy New Year to all my Chinese friends. We enter the year of the horse and as the year begins I've finally started to feel better. I'm still coughing but have more energy and am less constricted. Let us hope this is the start of recovery.

I will go to the Fu Hao tonight to celebrate with Lin and Yang. Tomorrow I catch a train to see Miriam via a lunch date with Jayne in Cambridge. Superbowl coming up on Sunday. Then the season is over until next September. By then I will be 45.

With luck I will be back at work the latter part of next week. In the meantime, I will read and relax. Can't believe January is nearly over. Today marks day 31 of this awful illness. February will only get better. See you when I get back next week.

I Heard a Voice.

Does Bipolar Really Exist?

In the weeks running up to Christmas there was a series which I recorded called "Bedlam". That is of course the old name for the asylum at the Maudsley back when we locked up and mocked the mad. I accidentally deleted the 1st episode but last night managed to sit down and watch the next part on crisis care in an inpatient unit. All familiar fare to me both personally and professionally.

Once again as so often happens when I watch such programmes I came away with more questions than answers. That is usually the way with me. Does mental illness exist? And more pertinent to that episode does bipolar exist?

A man they filmed in some depth called Dominic went in with a diagnosis of bipolar, and after his 3rd admission in a few weeks came out with a diagnosis of personality disorder. At the stroke of a pen a psychiatrist had changed his life. I doubt Dominic really understood the enormity of what had just happened. He will learn unless he is extremely lucky and gets a therapist who is good.

Yes, bipolar gets drugs, PD gets therapy. But what is the difference? The symptoms are almost exactly the same. The outcomes are poor for the latter, perhaps less so for the former. In reality if in doubt call it PD. I have met many students who come with both diagnoses. Yet I do not believe they can co-exist. So who is right? What is right? Do either actually exist? I do not know the answer to those questions.

What I do know having learned from bitter experience that it is far better to be called bipolar than PD. The world will take one seriously then. With PD one is pretty much fucked.

When I was in the System they kept telling me pills would not work and therapy was what I needed. Therapy never gave me anything. Risperidone saved my life. So all the high, mighty and powerful, be careful what you diagnose. The consequences if you are wrong do not need explaining. I do that in "A Pillar of Impotence". A number of people both professionals and services users alike firmly believe that all practitioners should read it. That will never happen as I'm just too unimportant to get that sort of exposure.

I Heard a Voice.

Return Ticket.

A week on from the visit to a the Doctor at which I first became aware of the possibility of whooping cough I have not improved much. The coughing is at a lull this afternoon but I'm certain will come again. So I will visit the same Doctor tomorrow to see what the next course of action is. I remain dead tired most of the time so it is a struggle to do much.

So here on a Wednesday afternoon I'm listening to a Mozart string quartet, enjoying the scent of rosemary, garlic, and thyme pervading from the kitchen along with my beloved belly pork, I'm contemplating what to do next.

I did achieve something today by submitting my MSc assignment and powerpoint. That was a relief. I will take a break from studies for a week or 2 before ploughing ahead with the next module which is delivered on line. After that who knows where I will be. Better I hope.

My mood still hovers around the 0 to -1 point on the scale after my slightly better day yesterday. It is so hard to feel upbeat when I feel unwell. But there has been no crash.

Perhaps I will watch another film tonight. But first some reading. I'm getting quite into "Seven Pillars of Wisdom". Some way to go yet though, it's a mighty long book.

I Heard a Voice.

Venturing Out in the Sun.

My mum was born and grew up in the Somerset town on Bridgwater. The area is often called the Somerset levels as much of the ground is below sea level and was drained by the Dutch in the 17th century. Bridgwater sits on a tidal river and given the level of the land around it is very prone to flooding. As I mentioned earlier there has been a lot of flooding in the south west and today the lead story on BBC was the floods and filming in Bridgwater. It reminded me of mum.

Thankfully despite the rain we are flood free here. Today the sun came out although it was cold. Dory took me out to lunch. I had barely left my flat for 48 hours. After a morning of coughing I felt somewhat better and we had a lovely afternoon. Cue guilt. That great bane of the depressive, feeling guilty. I said that to Dory and she told me I looked shit and needed at least another 2 weeks off. I doubt I can handle that but I know deep down I am not well enough to be there.

So tomorrow it is back to the Doctor. I lost so much of my life to mental illness and unemployment. I find it so hard to be away from work but sometimes it is necessary.

Back home I listen to Jules Massenet on the radio. I played Massenet for a violin exam once. It was one of few high level pieces I actually found easy. Yes I have grade 8 in the violin but I never found it easy. Looking back now if I had had teachers who praised me and made me feel confident maybe I would have got to that level at 15 or 16 rather than 18. They all seemed to forget that music is about playing musically not about being a technician. Thankfully just days before my exam which my teacher was convinced I would fail, my accompanist said quite simply "forget about the notes, for fuck sake play it musically"! After that it was a breeze.

Music is in the main part of my past now. Assuming I'm better then I am supposed to be singing in Cambridge in a few weeks. I don't miss it though. But my new found commitment to listening to more music and reading has paid dividends on my mental health. I'm just struggling to get above the even point on my scale. Today seeing Dory allowed me to reach +1. How great it is to have friends. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

Another Wet Day.

Staring out the window the rain of pouring down again. What a wet winter it has been, reminds me of 2000/01 when it poured and poured. My life was not good then. It would not be until the following summer that I found salvation in risperidone. We have been lucky here avoiding devastating floods that have hit the south west and southern England. Living on the 2nd floor on a hill should make me safe.

So what of today? I slept a little better but find myself shaky and achy as it seems the fever has returned. The exhaustion remains too. Must go back to the doctor on Tuesday.

As an interlude I'm hoping to meet Dory tomorrow. I've not seen her since early December. We have tried but illness and unexpected work have derailed our chances. I think I might take her out to the Waggoners for a bar lunch. Can't afford the restaurant after such a long month but pay day is in sight.

Having not really been in a fit state during Jeff's funeral I will remember him and another friend Tom who died recently by listening to requiems. Must hear the Verdi as I'm supposed to be singing it in March. Not a piece I know. Mozart too I think, not listened to that for ages.

Having eaten little yesterday I think I need to eat lunch. I'm making a parsley soup then Singapore chilli crab tonight. No roast dinner, may do something in the week. I have no plans to go out. It's not very inviting anyway.

I Heard a Voice.

A Mistake Perhaps?

In retrospect I probably shouldn't have gone to Jeff's funeral yesterday. All in fear that the coughing would come back at the wrong moment fear was realised and I nearly walked out. Staving off the attack led to almost being sick, I was about 30 seconds from walking out. But I didn't. In that state it was hard to concentrate on why we were there but I'm sure Jeff knew in his mind I was not at my best.

Against better judgement I did go to the wake for a while. After just 2 drinks I really had to get out so retired back into the warm and watched a film. I slept for 12 hours barring the 7 dreams that woke me up-that is I think a record.

Having woken at 12.30 I had to do a little shopping then planned a sandwich in the Horse and Groom. I couldn't face it so came home. A small amount of domesticity and no lunch wiped me out. Managed a half a marinaded lamb steak and potatoes now about finished. I won't be going anywhere tonight. The coughing will no doubt continue and my battle with illness goes on.

Time to stare at the TV for a bit when dose myself up for bed. When will this end?

I Heard a Voice.

A Better Night.

Last night proved more successful in my pursuit of recuperating than I expected. After better sleep-only up twice with coughing fits-today I have felt somewhat more alive than of late. But I've been here before. Each day is different with this illness that may or may not be whooping cough.

With some more energy I spent some time on my assignment. 3 hours later it is almost complete. The dreaded referencing is done and there are only 2 more short sections to complete. I did not deliver my presentation as planned today-too infectious. But having spoken to my tutor she has agreed that I can submit my assignment and PowerPoint electronically. So it should all go off in the next few days.

I'm anxious about tomorrow though. It is Jeff's funeral and there will be a huge turn out. I'm terrified I will infect others so will have to keep my distance. I'm also fearful that I will have a coughing fit at a critical point in the service so I will seek to sit near an exit.

With the exception of a brief visit to the shop I have not been out all day. Getting a bit stir crazy now so may pop out for a while later. I have lamb for dinner which I will flash fry with spring onions, hoisin sauce and a little soy. Hope it's good.

I Heard a Voice.

Not the Best News.

So you may ask, what happened? If you read yesterday I finally bit the bullet and sought out medical help for my strange ailment. You can imagine my surprise when the first question she asked me was "have you had whooping cough"? No but that is what they think I have now. I could really do without that. A few months back there was a story in the news about a resurgence of whooping cough amongst adults. I always thought children got it. Apparently not, about 5 people have told me they have had a it as adults and it is not good.

Further complicating matter is that the recommended antibiotic which may or may not work contraindicates with risperidone so I can't take it. I now find myself with a week's worth of standard antibiotics which she doubts will work and have been signed off for a week. The web says up to 3 months. Let us all pray that it is a much more straight forward respiratory infection than that and clears up quickly.

The upshot is I have had to do some serious juggling. Work is on hold, I will miss my presentation but am now allowed to submit by e mail. All the work is done barring references and tidying up so I'm hopeful I can summon the energy in the next 10 days to complete that.

On another matter I have decided to postpone my book launch until the spring. What I did do though is order the required number of copies to send it in motion to the wider publishing world. So it should be on Amazon, Waterstones, Foyles and other sites soon.

More soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Seeking Advice.

Day 20 and I'm still ill. I never believed this ailment whatever it is would go on this long. So I'm bowing to the inevitable and consulting a Doctor this afternoon. If it is a virus there is nothing that can be done. Only if it has become an infection will antibiotics become an option. All will be revealed at 3.10 pm assuming they are not running late.

My mood is okay buoyed somewhat by a very encouraging message from my tutor about my presentation on Thursday. I did make it in for a few hours yesterday as there were some things that could not wait any longer. Managed to do my powerpoint and e mail it off. A resounding success and have been told I have passed already. Whether I'm still standing to deliver it on Thursday morning is anyone's guess. Let's hope so. If not I suppose I will just have to keep working on the assignment for submission in 2 weeks. Actually it is all done but the referencing.

With luck-and I need it with technology-I will be ordering the required 30 plus copies of "Charon's Ferry" later. That will trigger its release onto the wider book market. At present it is only available from the publisher's website which can be somewhat temperamental. Once it's out I will put the link on here. Hopefully we will have a launch in the next month. Aiming for Wednesday 19th February. Not confirmed yet but that is the plan.

And now off to see said Doctor-my fate in the hands of others once again. I find that troubling. But I need to get this sorted. More soon.

I Heard a Voice.

An Anniversary of a Kind.

"Today is a special day, an anniversary of a kind". So spoke the words of one of the many beautiful songs performed by Eva Cassidy in obscurity prior to her untimely death. I don't recall when I first discovered her. The former BBC DJ Terry Wogan is owed a huge debt of thanks for bringing her work to us in the UK. Without that she might have been an unknown footnote in history.

Well today is an anniversary for me. Mum would have been 82 today had she lived. It is hard to believe that nearly 2 years have elapsed since she died. I'm older, greyer, fatter and probably have less hair. I always had such a difficult relationship with her but we made peace in the end through my first book. In 2 months we will mark the passing of her life. And again next year, and the year after. That is the fate of all of us who live this human life.

My life is not at its best at the moment. I'm still really struggling with this virus-the coughing actually made me sick yesterday. The timing is awful as I have my MSc presentation to do on Thursday and am currently stymied by my technical limitations. Yet still the coughing goes on. I will go and see a Doctor tomorrow and see what excuse they palm me of with this time.

Back to today and "Cosi fan Tutti" is playing away in my flat. There is a gammon joint to be roasted later. Other than that it is a day with no plans. Just staying in and reading. And memories of mum. Oh to feel better.

I Heard a Voice.

Flat and Listless.

Another day another coughing fit. Yes it still goes on. The pills help a little and I felt I was moving in the right direction. Then came last night-bad sleep, bad throat and bad mood. The day after I feel listless and lost. Dare I say I am depressed? Yes I guess I am. What is hard though is I'm in one of those empty period. I feel and think nothing. That is as disturbing as it gets baring the mystical mixed state.

There is little I can think of to do. Stare blankly at the TV I suppose. I have no motivation to do anything. Cooking and eating are out the window. My friends took me out for lunch but I could only manage half of it. Maybe it is a day to write off. Roll on the morrow.

I Heard a Voice.

All Plans are Off.

The rain drops are gently trickling down the panes of glass in my French windows at my flat. It reminds me of that haunting Simon and Garfunkel song "Kathy's Song" that so bewitched me in the time of my madness. Once again I find myself at home unable to risk passing on this vile virus by going to work. The night was again a torment although the pills I bought at the chemist have helped a little during the day. God I hate being ill.

As a result all my plans for today are cancelled. I was due to visit my friend Jacek today for lunch and meeting of his staff at his place of work. He is a Polish psychiatrist whom I admire a great deal. Young and dynamic he is so different to all those arrogant ones who treated me. Another sign of my changed life. Jacek is my greatest advocate.

I was due to have dinner with Dory at the Fu Hao but she unexpectedly had an early shift tomorrow morning in London so we have had to put that off. I was also due to have another friend Jackie round to provide me with some training on my new PC but we cancelled that too.

So once again I'm stuck at home, coughing and drained. It was not all lost. I finished "Under a Mackerel Sky" and very much enjoyed it. A Rossini opera has been playing on the radio in the background. Yet I'm restless. Time is marching on to my MSc presentation on Thursday and I'm nowhere near ready. If the fever breaks I will get back to it on Saturday. I think I'm a couple of hours away from completing the text but there are some things I do not know how to do when putting together my PowerPoint for Thursday. I need some help and it makes me anxious. I'm sure I will be fine though.

As I'm not out tonight I will just have simple roast potatoes and a pork chop with rosemary and garlic. It is still hard to swallow but we all need to eat. Let us hope tomorrow brings signs of improvement. In the meantime my next dose of pills is due at 5 pm. With luck next time I write I will be better-I really hope so.

I Heard a Voice.

Going Nowhere Fast.

Just as I thought I was getting over this virus that I've been battling since New Year's Day it has come back with a vengeance for round 2. This is replicating the experience of so many others I know who have this-and I know at least 20 people who have it-it calms then comes back. So after a night of coughing, shaking and shivering I decided against going anywhere today and stayed in bed all morning. I could really do without this but there you go, it happens sometimes.

Looking back on the last year or so I seem to have had an unusually high number of physical ailments. Let's hope it is just bad luck. Who knows when it will end but I can't wait so I can finally get on with my life.

This post is the first written on my new PC. I rarely consider myself disabled but with a life time mental illness in the eyes of the law in this country I am. Well actually there is a caveat to that. The criteria for employment and education differs from that to claim benefits. When I was accepted on my course my friend Madeline who works in our disability department was most insistent that I apply for Disabled Students Allowance. I feel a fraud but at the assessment back on November the excellent assessor pointed out that we had to take into account what impact it might have on my studies should I relapse. He had a point so lots of things were put in place. I probably won't use them but it is nice to have up to date equipment-now I can access all the on-line materials which I couldn't get to before.

But today is not a day for study, I feel too ill. Instead I listen to Britten on the radio and quietly rest. Choral Evensong at 3.30 pm from Salisbury cathedral-I look forward to that.

I Heard a Voice.

The Net Widens.

Some months ago I wrote a post on here entitled "Pandora's Box". It was as a result of something I read in the newspaper about child abuse in music schools in the 1970s and 1980s. This has in many ways been fuelled by the Saville scandal but it is shining the spotlight on a murky world. That post remains the 3rd most widely read of the 341 pieces I have written on here.

Today I learned from the same paper that that net is widening with a further 20 schools likely to lose court cases about what went on in those dark days. I think the net will continue to widen before it closes. I wonder when that net will be widened to include that famous choir that was once my identity? Surely it will come one day. Maybe book sales will go up if it does-"Charon's Ferry" is far more candid and overt on the subject than "A Pillar of Impotence".

As I write I'm listening to Mendelssohn. A year after I was given the box set I have finally found what I was looking for. As a result I listened to the whole of "Hear my Prayer" today for the first time in years. Glorious. At 3 pm the music will go off and we will have a little jaunt to a country pub. Then home to cook roast chicken. Here is to Sundays.

I Heard a Voice.

Back to my Chinese Culinary Roots.

After a day working on my assignment for my MSc it is now time to cook. I'm returning to where it all started, China. Over many 1000s of years the Chinese have evolved a stunning culinary legacy which uses some strange things. Today's offering of red cooked pork with star anise and dried orange peel has just gone in the oven. I did try eating the orange peel once but was not enamoured with it. But it does impart a good flavour. Combined with soy sauce, star anise and cassia bark it promises to be an interesting adventure.

My week of ill health continues, still can't shake the virus but I am certainly better than I was. Mentally too I seem to have climbed a little in my mood and reduced my anxiety. This in part was due to a surprisingly positive response to my survey I sent out for my MSc. Armed with that I have now made a lot more progress. The presentation is a week Thursday. Hand in date 2 weeks after that. I think I'm well on top of it although I have the dreaded referencing to do still.

The divisional playoff round of the NFL begins tonight. I will record both games tonight and watch tomorrow's live. Keeps me out of the pub for a bit.

All in all I feel set up for a restful day tomorrow with my book and some opera. Roast chicken will complete my normal chilled out Sunday. Chaos again on Monday-with luck the coughing will finally have abated by then.

I Heard a Voice.

Putting Life in Perspective.

Life for me has been somewhat rocky since our epic Christmas at Beka's. I have been ill with a virus that has cut swathes through my friends. News came of the death of my friend Jeff on New Year's Eve. Today I learned of the death of another friend taken by cancer over Christmas. My mood and particularly my unusual anxiety have marked the last 10 days-it was another anxious day today. I have to try to balance the silly foibles of my life with the realities of the really ill world. Once I was really ill. Now in the main I'm fine.

Today I learned some more devastating news from a friend. I cannot say what it is on here but it took me back to that terrible day when my friends Tom and Catherine lost their 2 year old son. That was truly black. Today's news is not that bleak but once again I am reminded of the fragility of life and that what I face at the moment will pass. As long as I stay clear from the depths of madness I will survive and weather this storm.

I went to work this morning. I had a meeting and some catching up to do. So why am I shattered? I guess the lingering effects of my recent virus. Feel like just lying on the sofa. It doesn't seem worth trying to stay awake. Doubt I will go to bed early though, I never do.

Time to sign off until another day.

I Heard a Voice.

Finally Succumbing to the Inevitable.

After a night of being woken up in a cold sweat by extremely disturbing dreams I have succumbed to the earnest advice of my dad and friends by finally going to the chemist and bought a flu and cold remedy. As you can see I stayed home today and this virus whatever it is seems in no mood to shift. As each day comes I hear of more of my friends coming down with it. The common denominator is the Hedgehog pub where we all went on New Year's Eve. My friend Sue coined the rather splendid phrase "Hedgehog flu". Actually it is nowhere near as bad as full blown flu but is pretty debilitating. The best I can hope of this medication is that it will hold things at bay; nothing can be done about a virus

So another day at home struggling to do anything. I should do some study but really can't face opening my notes. But time is ticking on and I need to get going. I am slightly stuck in that I can't access all my course materials from home as my software is no up to date enough. I had planned to download what I needed in a form I can work with today but it was not to be. Maybe tomorrow.

And my madness? Less in evidence today than yesterday. Funny how physical illness can bring about a mental lapse in mood. Let's hope it passes soon.

For now I listen to the radio and do nothing. It can only get better from here.

I Heard a Voice.

Not a Day for Going Out.

My friend and mentor Heather Murray lost her husband Chris a couple of months after mum died. He had been ill for a long time and in a way it was a relief. That year of 2012 saw the deaths of 7 people I knew-that is too many. Some time later Heather told me that at some times in her life she talks to Chris and feels his presence even after his death. She suggested I do the same. This morning I really wanted to speak to mum. Of course I couldn't. There only being a silence bouncing back at me.

Saturday is day 4 of my mystery illness. I still feel bad but the symptoms are different each day. I can now swallow with ease and my chest is less restricted when I cough. But the coughing and sneezing has reached ludicrous levels. I also feel absolutely washed out. I needed a good night's sleep but it didn't come. This morning saw 5 cigarette butts in the ashtray each marking a nightmare I had. Why?

This illness is beginning to have an impact on me mentally. I can feel my mood slowly sinking. Do I raise the medication? I suspect all that would do would be to empty my mind of all thought and emotion. That is indeed an uncomfortable place to be. Leave it be for the time being I think.

And still the rain comes. I will not venture out until much later. But rather stay in the warm with my beloved Mozart and keep on with Rick Stein's "Under a Mackerel Sky". Dad gave it to me for Christmas and it has led me to temporarily cast aside the "Seven Pillars of Wisdom". I've long been a fan of Stein and am amazed at how candid his memoir is. He has faced some pain in his life.

So from my warm flat with the miserable day outside I wish you farewell until tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.

Hailstones, Byrd, Pink Floyd and Change Management.

Is it weird to go from listening to the great Tudor religious works of Byrd to the strange drug fuelled world of Pink Floyd in one afternoon? Thinking about it it is pretty weird. But then again I like to do the unexpected. It has been a strangely disjointed day that has left me with more uncertainty than it began but with progress made.

My day started late after a troubled nightmare filled night in a barrage of hailstones. Yes, yet another storm had arrived. It was so loud that I thought it might smash my bedroom window. Fortunately no damage to report. Much to my disappointment I still felt unwell. The swelling of my tonsils has subsided but is replaced by a heavy cough and a lot of chest constriction. This is a very strange virus if that is what it is.

Of one thing I was certain today, I needed to do some more study. A brief interlude of Singapore noodles with Lin and food shopping delayed the inevitable but I did manage to get 2 hours done to a backdrop of Byrd and Pink Floyd. Not sure how much further I am in my quest but I always feel anxious that I have not done enough. Maybe it will make sense when I get round to writing in earnest next week. I wonder how much my peers have done, after our last lecture session they all seemed convinced that they would fail. I have one priceless gift though and that is I can write. The night before my Economics A Level in 1988 I bumped into one of my teachers and told him I didn't understand any of it. His response was "well at least you can write". Not very encouraging but I did somehow get a B.

So on a dreary dark winter night my holiday ends. Who knows what the coming weeks will bring. More importantly what will my mood do. At the moment it is flat although I think that is due to being physically unwell. Yet on we must go, on into the unknown.

I Heard a Voice.

The Sun Comes Out.

After what seems like endless weeks of rain and storms the sun finally came out today. I awoke late still feeling unwell. It is hard to swallow and hurts when I cough but it is not as bad as yesterday. With the sun finally appearing I donned my shades and popped out for a couple of hours. I find myself feeling guilty for wasting study time. It still feels as if I haven't done enough work. Yet the evidence says otherwise.

When I got home I put some Mozart on and finally undertook a SWOT analysis for my project. It was actually quite easy. I already have the basis for my assignment after the mammoth Wagner evening before the holiday. Now I just need the confidence to match evidence and references to each section and it should write itself. The presentation poses no fears. Despite being encouraged to be as visual as possible that is not my strength so in the main I will stick with my strength as a public speaker. With luck by the end of tomorrow I will be in a position to put flesh on the bones of the work.

As for the rest of today I still need to rest up and listen to my Mozart. I need to talk to dad but as he has lost his mobile and his call blocker keeps blocking me out I will have to rely on him calling me. My mood is certainly not where it was at 2 days ago but I'm not firing on a high. That would be good but as ever I need to keep a check on that. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

Unwell.

The rain has been hammering down all day. It is not nice out there as 2014 dawns. I'm not sure where I am today. Despite my mood and anxiety problems of yesterday I did you out for New Year. The experience was mixed as for much of the time the darkness of my madness seemed most enticing. I can't remember when I last felt like that. I came close to taking my emergency stash of Risperidone. But I didn't. It was a good night and a fitting send off for Jeff.

I awoke this morning not hungover but with my tonsils aflame and struggling to swallow. My annual bout of tonsillitis has arrived, I'm hoping it lasts only a short while, really doesn't feel good today. I still restless and hungry but unable to eat. Not what I need as my holiday draws to a close. Mentally I'm not where I was but the troubles of yesterday are still here today. Maybe going back to work on Monday will be a blessing. More MSc work needs to be done before that.

For now I blankly look at the TV, feel very sleepy and not up to doing anything really. I must eat though. More tomorrow.

I Heard a Voice.