Well it is the day after. People have been so kind after my mum's anniversary. Tomorrow will be hard as Mother's Day is rammed in my face on Facebook, the shops, the restaurants. I will avoid that all by staying in apart from a quick trip out to get the Sunday Times. I will focus on my kitchen with a slow roast shoulder of pork, a bottle of Chianti, and other delights. Tonight I will do prawns, don't do them often and as a sop to health some smoked mackerel for a light lunch. Even bought some apple sauce to go with the pork-never been much of a fan but thought I would give it a go.
Yet the anniversary season is not over for me. Today marks 20 years since my last admission to a psychiatric hospital. Can't believe that either. Not idea how many of my friends lived to tell the tale from those days, if they found their paths or indeed where they are now. When I was discharged 4 months later for not doing what I was told the discharge papers stated a a prognosis of "likely to commit suicide within 6 months". Thanks Bernie. You were so fucking wrong. I'm still fighting 20 years on and now if you were still practising and here in Hertfordshire you would be accountable to me! That is how far I've come.
Now it is time to study, it is relentless. Don't have much motivation but must carry on, there is so much to do. Many thanks to the fabulous Dory who came round last night to help on a challenging day. I was most pleased with the ribs but a little disappointed in the belly pork. But there is always next time. Until then.
I Heard a Voice.
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