Hard though it may be to believe but here in the UK we are having a Halloween heatwave. 21 degrees at the end of October! I ditched my coat today and switched to my summer blazer-still sweltering. Now down in Kent visiting dad and to go to a party I struggled to get dry after a bath as it is so humid.
What a strange day. It ends a reasonably good week where some progress was made both on work and study fronts but there is still a hell of a long way to go.
I'm doing well. Mood is good, I don't feel too stressed and that fear of being overwhelmed has not been spotted on the horizon yet. So to a weekend in Kent. Dinner at The Butt of Sherry, lunch tomorrow at The Nutmeg, a little shopping then my friend's birthday party. Mexican is on the menu then, not my normal fare but a good change. See you all in November.
I Heard a Voice.
Friday, 31 October 2014
Tuesday, 28 October 2014
Startling Nature.
I inadvertently startled our resident heron yesterday. I didn't realise he was by the trees as I ventured for a seat for 5 minutes away from the mayhem on a beautiful sunny morning. Off he flew marvellous in his grace, high and clear of that lake. Soon I will say goodbye to the lake as we are moving back to campus in December. As I predicted time is flying, almost November. The NFL is around its half way point. The holiday is looming but there are steps to go before then.
Back in the office I'm desperately playing catch up after the dramas of the last 2 weeks. My diary is getting packed out by the end of Monday for the week. I'm getting anxious about my MSc. Yes I'm reading and correlating sources at home but I need a couple of hours in my office to select data to use for my piece. That can only be done there. But when? In truth I need to do it this week. I'm away visiting dad at the weekend and with a group tutorial planned for next Monday I need something to go there with. I guess I'm praying for a cancellation or 2.
Yet I'm still standing, still coping, still creaking but not overwhelmed. I'm going out tonight for a curry with my friend Hannah. I supported her through her PGCE a couple of years ago. I always like working with education students as I went down that path myself. I wonder where I would be now had I just got the break I needed with a job back in those days. Fate decreed I would never teach. I tried and failed. That was a life time away. What I do now is of more value although financially less rewarded. Many students have noted in passing how glad they are I did not get a chance in teaching. Had chance been different they would never have met me. I cannot help everyone but some value me for my highly than I deserve.
I Heard a Voice.
Back in the office I'm desperately playing catch up after the dramas of the last 2 weeks. My diary is getting packed out by the end of Monday for the week. I'm getting anxious about my MSc. Yes I'm reading and correlating sources at home but I need a couple of hours in my office to select data to use for my piece. That can only be done there. But when? In truth I need to do it this week. I'm away visiting dad at the weekend and with a group tutorial planned for next Monday I need something to go there with. I guess I'm praying for a cancellation or 2.
Yet I'm still standing, still coping, still creaking but not overwhelmed. I'm going out tonight for a curry with my friend Hannah. I supported her through her PGCE a couple of years ago. I always like working with education students as I went down that path myself. I wonder where I would be now had I just got the break I needed with a job back in those days. Fate decreed I would never teach. I tried and failed. That was a life time away. What I do now is of more value although financially less rewarded. Many students have noted in passing how glad they are I did not get a chance in teaching. Had chance been different they would never have met me. I cannot help everyone but some value me for my highly than I deserve.
I Heard a Voice.
Saturday, 25 October 2014
Cultural Pursuits on a Saturday Afternoon.
After all the drama of the last week or so I made it through to another weekend. After rising very late I decided I really needed to get on with some study. So to the accompaniment of Haydn's The Creation I set about re reading some work and checking for other sources I can use in the dreaded referencing section. It was actually quite a productive afternoon reminding me of what I had forgotten. I fear she will move the goalposts when we meet again in 3 weeks but I need to get progressing. There is a group tutorial a week Monday. Given that there are only 2 of us doing this module this semester it could be a cosy affair.
Studies completed I ventured into my other great cultural pursuit and returned to my kitchen. I'm visiting Thailand today with a belly pork curry. I spent some time pounding not 1 but 2 curry pastes and what I anticipate will be a fiery visit to that epic cuisine is bubbling away gently on my hob. Richard is coming to share it with me so to eat in about 2 hours.
I feel I need the rest after this week. Dealing with fall out then had a minor bug yesterday that kept me at home. Some mention stress but I think it is just a chance encounter with something in passing. Despite the last week I don't feel too stressed, exasperated at times yes but not stressed. In 2 months we will be celebrating Christmas. After some consultation I think it will just be us at home this year. Dad didn't feel he or the aga could cope with 9 people; it is after all quite a small house.
Tonight I will don my Panama Hat for a charity event at the Hedgehog in memory of our dear friend Jeff who succumbed to his long battle with cancer 10 months ago. I miss him. He always wore a hat so we will honour him in that way too.
I Heard a Voice.
Studies completed I ventured into my other great cultural pursuit and returned to my kitchen. I'm visiting Thailand today with a belly pork curry. I spent some time pounding not 1 but 2 curry pastes and what I anticipate will be a fiery visit to that epic cuisine is bubbling away gently on my hob. Richard is coming to share it with me so to eat in about 2 hours.
I feel I need the rest after this week. Dealing with fall out then had a minor bug yesterday that kept me at home. Some mention stress but I think it is just a chance encounter with something in passing. Despite the last week I don't feel too stressed, exasperated at times yes but not stressed. In 2 months we will be celebrating Christmas. After some consultation I think it will just be us at home this year. Dad didn't feel he or the aga could cope with 9 people; it is after all quite a small house.
Tonight I will don my Panama Hat for a charity event at the Hedgehog in memory of our dear friend Jeff who succumbed to his long battle with cancer 10 months ago. I miss him. He always wore a hat so we will honour him in that way too.
I Heard a Voice.
Wednesday, 22 October 2014
Sounds of Teenage Angst.
In the days before Madonna took the musical world by storm in around 1984 there was another brash and eccentric American woman singer with a squeaky voice, wild hair and outrageous dress sense. Her name was and is Cyndi Lauper. It's hard believe all these years later that she was once bigger than Madonna. She was Lady Gaga years before Lady Gaga.
Earlier in the week whilst wandering aimlessly around HMV trying to escape the chaos for an hour I found her first album She's So Unusual in a sale. The whole world knows that girl power anthem Girls Just Want to Have Fun. It still plays at all the parties of 40 somethings throughout the land. It was not really for that that I bought it for. I had my years of rage and teenage angst in the 1980s and that album was part of my backing track of melancholy. Money Changes Everything, Time After Time, When You Were Mine all featured in that curious time of chaos and pain before we end our childhood.
Looking back now I already had significant signs of mood disorder and mental illness back then. It just didn't explode and destroy my life until I was 20. Some of those songs were woven into the fabric of my madness. Not about me as the psychiatrists arrogantly suggested but representing the words and emotions that I could not express. It was not until A Pillar of Impotence hit the world that I was really able to put words to that pain.
Much has passed since then but I was still moved by the music of my madness; just not destroyed. Back at home I dined on rare steak, potatoes sauteed in duck fat, minted peas and Rioja to the more sedate accompaniment of J S Bach. What a contrast.
In what passes for my career I'm still up against it. I did nothing but answer the phone on Monday. The events of last Thursday are still taking much of my time but so be it. And at the end of each day I reflect. Did I do some good today? In the main yes. I'm holding up well but struggling to keep up. The other fear is my studies. Hardly got off the ground with them and I need to get going. Maybe the weekend will bring respite. We will see. Until next time adios.
I Heard a Voice.
Earlier in the week whilst wandering aimlessly around HMV trying to escape the chaos for an hour I found her first album She's So Unusual in a sale. The whole world knows that girl power anthem Girls Just Want to Have Fun. It still plays at all the parties of 40 somethings throughout the land. It was not really for that that I bought it for. I had my years of rage and teenage angst in the 1980s and that album was part of my backing track of melancholy. Money Changes Everything, Time After Time, When You Were Mine all featured in that curious time of chaos and pain before we end our childhood.
Looking back now I already had significant signs of mood disorder and mental illness back then. It just didn't explode and destroy my life until I was 20. Some of those songs were woven into the fabric of my madness. Not about me as the psychiatrists arrogantly suggested but representing the words and emotions that I could not express. It was not until A Pillar of Impotence hit the world that I was really able to put words to that pain.
Much has passed since then but I was still moved by the music of my madness; just not destroyed. Back at home I dined on rare steak, potatoes sauteed in duck fat, minted peas and Rioja to the more sedate accompaniment of J S Bach. What a contrast.
In what passes for my career I'm still up against it. I did nothing but answer the phone on Monday. The events of last Thursday are still taking much of my time but so be it. And at the end of each day I reflect. Did I do some good today? In the main yes. I'm holding up well but struggling to keep up. The other fear is my studies. Hardly got off the ground with them and I need to get going. Maybe the weekend will bring respite. We will see. Until next time adios.
I Heard a Voice.
Saturday, 18 October 2014
Standing Room Only.
The world and his brother seemed to be headed for London at lunch time. It resembled the early morning commuter trains with nowhere to sit and standing room only. Days Arsenal play at home are always busy yet as they fanned out at Finsbury Park it was still standing room only. That said I got lucky and managed to sit down after Potter's Bar.
As I ambled along the Charing Cross Road I mused on how much had changed since my brief spell in a London psychiatric unit in 1994. Yes 20 years have passed. Most of the book shops I perused in those days as I fled from the pressures of therapy designed to tear me apart have gone. My old friend Foyles still exists and in I went. Thinking it had had a major makeover it was not until I made a passing comment to the shop assistant that I realised it had actually moved to a different building. Time marching on. I'm greyer now than then. Maybe wiser. Certainly fatter. But infinitely better mentally.
It was a short and restrained trip. A Dim Sum lunch, a few shops, some walking then home. I had hoped to pop into the Porcupine but it was packed so I headed straight for the tube.
Tomorrow is a roast chicken day. I have bought some English wine to accompany it from the Chapel Down vineyard near Tenterden. So close to what was my home for so long. There's an outside chance Beka may join me for lunch. That would be good.
Maybe more tomorrow.
I Heard a Voice.
As I ambled along the Charing Cross Road I mused on how much had changed since my brief spell in a London psychiatric unit in 1994. Yes 20 years have passed. Most of the book shops I perused in those days as I fled from the pressures of therapy designed to tear me apart have gone. My old friend Foyles still exists and in I went. Thinking it had had a major makeover it was not until I made a passing comment to the shop assistant that I realised it had actually moved to a different building. Time marching on. I'm greyer now than then. Maybe wiser. Certainly fatter. But infinitely better mentally.
It was a short and restrained trip. A Dim Sum lunch, a few shops, some walking then home. I had hoped to pop into the Porcupine but it was packed so I headed straight for the tube.
Tomorrow is a roast chicken day. I have bought some English wine to accompany it from the Chapel Down vineyard near Tenterden. So close to what was my home for so long. There's an outside chance Beka may join me for lunch. That would be good.
Maybe more tomorrow.
I Heard a Voice.
Friday, 17 October 2014
Do Your Job.
Many people cannot understand my passion for and love affair with American football. To some British people it pales in comparison to rugby. It is played by soft people as they are covered in pads. It is too slow, too confusing. There are too many players. And too many rules. Well having played-and loved-both American football and rugby I can tell you they are different but equally tough. What really attracts me is that the former is that it is the ultimate physical chess. Eveything is choreographed with 11 players on each side needed to act together. If not it all goes horribly wrong. It is a game of plan then counter plan, of adjustment, of physicality and skill. Above all each player needs to do his job. Often the commentators will say "do your job".
My days of player football are long gone. I will never go back. But that phrase do your job rings true often enough. Yesterday I left my office on the way to A&E at 5.15 pm and got home at 2.45 am. It was indeed a long day. I earned my money, felt humbled, ashamed but in the end I did my job. As I was teaching today I had to go in rather than take the day off. I dropped by my office to collect my car and tie up loose end. Then and only then did I go for lunch and a beer in the Three Horseshoes.
The post mortem will begin on Monday. And once again what my job is will come to the fore. In truth if I hadn't done it, delivered my special skills at that time of life threatening crisis, the outcome could have been worse. That is not to say that I am special it is just the experience I bring in what I have done in my so called career.
As this time of change plays out for me I think there will be much debate why I do that and should I do that. I will hold as firm as I can for that is what I do. Lots of people were worried but we made the calls, took the decisions and dealt with it. Let's hope it does not cause further discomfort in these uncertain times.
Another weekend is here though. If I can summon up the energy after only 4 hours sleep last night I might get the train to London, Chinatown, Foyles, The Porcupine and some gentle wanderings appeal if the rain stays off.
I Heard a Voice.
My days of player football are long gone. I will never go back. But that phrase do your job rings true often enough. Yesterday I left my office on the way to A&E at 5.15 pm and got home at 2.45 am. It was indeed a long day. I earned my money, felt humbled, ashamed but in the end I did my job. As I was teaching today I had to go in rather than take the day off. I dropped by my office to collect my car and tie up loose end. Then and only then did I go for lunch and a beer in the Three Horseshoes.
The post mortem will begin on Monday. And once again what my job is will come to the fore. In truth if I hadn't done it, delivered my special skills at that time of life threatening crisis, the outcome could have been worse. That is not to say that I am special it is just the experience I bring in what I have done in my so called career.
As this time of change plays out for me I think there will be much debate why I do that and should I do that. I will hold as firm as I can for that is what I do. Lots of people were worried but we made the calls, took the decisions and dealt with it. Let's hope it does not cause further discomfort in these uncertain times.
Another weekend is here though. If I can summon up the energy after only 4 hours sleep last night I might get the train to London, Chinatown, Foyles, The Porcupine and some gentle wanderings appeal if the rain stays off.
I Heard a Voice.
Wednesday, 15 October 2014
Shifting Sands.
Someone asked me a couple of years ago "who are your allies"? In the context of that day I had to dodge the question; I had no allies in that room. In fact I have plenty. Many rate me far more highly than I deserve. But there are a lot who would want me by there side when the shit is flying. Sadly none of my allies have any power to help me.
On another day of relentless rain I am reflecting on an interesting couple of days. I'm irritated and struggling to switch my mind off. Cooking home made shepherd's pie did not help even though it was good. Beer is having no effect. I'm restless. Yet there is a glimmer. For what has been clear over those days is that the sands of power are shifting. None will come to me, I'm not important enough. But change might brings allies who do choose to help me.
I'm aware this is just the start. Where I am in a year is anyone's guess. The big question is how long am I prepared to wait for something that may not happen? In truth if I see an opportunity I will check it out, size it up then maybe try to change my life.
For now the mayhem of term is well and truly under way-I have 6 students to see tomorrow. Nothing dramatic has happened so once again I reflect on a another week with just 2 days to its end. I'm getting older but I'm not burning out, chronically depressed, searingly angry or in my mini mania. Just a bit irritated and restless. Time for some American football I think-I know the Rams lost this week but I'm slightly heartened that they were more competitive than the score suggested.
I Heard a Voice.
On another day of relentless rain I am reflecting on an interesting couple of days. I'm irritated and struggling to switch my mind off. Cooking home made shepherd's pie did not help even though it was good. Beer is having no effect. I'm restless. Yet there is a glimmer. For what has been clear over those days is that the sands of power are shifting. None will come to me, I'm not important enough. But change might brings allies who do choose to help me.
I'm aware this is just the start. Where I am in a year is anyone's guess. The big question is how long am I prepared to wait for something that may not happen? In truth if I see an opportunity I will check it out, size it up then maybe try to change my life.
For now the mayhem of term is well and truly under way-I have 6 students to see tomorrow. Nothing dramatic has happened so once again I reflect on a another week with just 2 days to its end. I'm getting older but I'm not burning out, chronically depressed, searingly angry or in my mini mania. Just a bit irritated and restless. Time for some American football I think-I know the Rams lost this week but I'm slightly heartened that they were more competitive than the score suggested.
I Heard a Voice.
Sunday, 12 October 2014
Lamb, Reading and Mozart-a Very Quiet Sunday.
Hello there. I'm back. As the title suggests I have gone back to my safety mode and had a very quiet Sunday. The Marriage of Figaro has provided the background for an afternoon of reading. A half leg of lamb with go in the oven at about 5.30 for an hour or so then 30 minute rest for my supper. Potatoes will roast in duck fat and I will have my traditional medley of vegetables the like of which I rarely match on other days of the week.
In the main it has been a relaxing weekend. I've woken up late each day and barely a thought for the coming week. It is busy there but at the moment I am not stressed by it all. We are still in early days of the new term but I have no doubt I will seem to blink and it will be Christmas.
Talking of which we need to decide what to do for that special day. Miriam and Nigel will not be there this year so could be just me and dad. I have suggested to him that perhaps we might invite Beka et al for another epic lunch but no decisions yet on that. Whatever we do I'm sure it will be fun.
So as we head towards another working week I'm doing well. Mood good but safe. Energy still there. No sign of mania or depression. Long may that continue.
I Heard a Voice
In the main it has been a relaxing weekend. I've woken up late each day and barely a thought for the coming week. It is busy there but at the moment I am not stressed by it all. We are still in early days of the new term but I have no doubt I will seem to blink and it will be Christmas.
Talking of which we need to decide what to do for that special day. Miriam and Nigel will not be there this year so could be just me and dad. I have suggested to him that perhaps we might invite Beka et al for another epic lunch but no decisions yet on that. Whatever we do I'm sure it will be fun.
So as we head towards another working week I'm doing well. Mood good but safe. Energy still there. No sign of mania or depression. Long may that continue.
I Heard a Voice
Saturday, 11 October 2014
The Nearly Man.
My intention was to write this blog yesterday to mark World Mental Health Day but I ran out of time. Yes that day again. As I ever I failed to get anything organised at the University-it takes a lot of planning and the date is awful as it is week 2 of term. But I was pleasantly surprised to find that a small group of students did something on their own. I learned of the existence of a student led mental health group. Fantastic news as they will make far more headway than I ever could.
World Mental Health Day also marked the first anniversary of the publication of Charon's Ferry in paperback. I actually had 2 quite negative comments about it this week. Others though think it is better than the first book. Maybe you should decide:
World Mental Health Day also marked the first anniversary of the publication of Charon's Ferry in paperback. I actually had 2 quite negative comments about it this week. Others though think it is better than the first book. Maybe you should decide:
Away from that though it was the morning after the night before. Yes I attended the grand Flare Awards dinner. And pretty grand it was too. All the important people who wouldn't give me the time of day normally were there. I didn't win so another case of a nearly man-3 shortlistings for awards in 3 years but no prizes. But it mattered not. My work was completely fraudulent as innovation-I merely borrowed from elsewhere. My friend Humphrey did however win a prize for true innovation in his quest to bring mental health services to the his native rural Cameroon. That is a truly worthy winner.
I did very much enjoy the evening along with my friend Katherine who came as my guest.
I Heard a Voice.
Wednesday, 8 October 2014
To Lock or Not to Lock?
This may sound hard to believe but I heard a brilliant talk this afternoon about toilet doors. Delivered by a woman called Asa-A should have a little o above it but couldn't find it on keyboard-pronounced Awsa from Sweden she inspired a small gathering on the not so inspiring subject. Of course it was a little more complicated than locks on toilet doors. What it was really about was power.
A former service user now social worker she conducted some research into locked door policies on inpatient wards in her area. Not keeping patients in in the classical sense but locks on bedroom and bathroom doors that are controlled by the patients. Across 8 wards there was no uniformity on one or other or both or neither. No one knew the purpose of why it had evolved in each context given that safety fears meant staff could open them anyway.
Staff felt it was safer to have door unlocked. Patients felt safer with locks. Well wouldn't you going to the toilet? I asked if staff had separate and lockable bathrooms. Of course they did. Which brings me to my eternal question stolen from my friend Madeline, whose need does that serve?
The power of a lock is significant. Who holds that key? He who has power. The real purpose of today's seminar is that we have to provide patient centred care that makes them feel safe and allows them to recover. It is not about what is most convenient and easy for us practitioners.
Of other interest from the amazing Asa/Awsa is that to be on her team of peer support workers individuals need to have at least 5 years inpatient experience. On those grounds I couldn't even apply! Great speaker and an inspiration.
Back in what passes for my normality things are hotting up. Requests are coming thick and fast and the feared PDs are well represented. Looks like I'm in for a busy time!
I Heard a Voice.
A former service user now social worker she conducted some research into locked door policies on inpatient wards in her area. Not keeping patients in in the classical sense but locks on bedroom and bathroom doors that are controlled by the patients. Across 8 wards there was no uniformity on one or other or both or neither. No one knew the purpose of why it had evolved in each context given that safety fears meant staff could open them anyway.
Staff felt it was safer to have door unlocked. Patients felt safer with locks. Well wouldn't you going to the toilet? I asked if staff had separate and lockable bathrooms. Of course they did. Which brings me to my eternal question stolen from my friend Madeline, whose need does that serve?
The power of a lock is significant. Who holds that key? He who has power. The real purpose of today's seminar is that we have to provide patient centred care that makes them feel safe and allows them to recover. It is not about what is most convenient and easy for us practitioners.
Of other interest from the amazing Asa/Awsa is that to be on her team of peer support workers individuals need to have at least 5 years inpatient experience. On those grounds I couldn't even apply! Great speaker and an inspiration.
Back in what passes for my normality things are hotting up. Requests are coming thick and fast and the feared PDs are well represented. Looks like I'm in for a busy time!
I Heard a Voice.
Monday, 6 October 2014
Two Decades on From Cambridge.
More than a quarter of a century has now passed since I returned to Cambridge as an undergraduate. I arrived in this week 1988 as an arrogant naive dreamer. In June 1991 I graduated despite severe mental illness and was admitted to a psychiatric ward some 6 weeks later. I was battered, broken, and unable to believe in my own senses any more.
Today I have come a long way. Readers will attest to that and those gracious enough to humour me by reading my books will also attest. But has Cambridge moved on?
When I got home this afternoon I logged onto Facebook to find a message from an old friend from my school days in Cambridge. There was a link to a story in the Guardian.
Today I have come a long way. Readers will attest to that and those gracious enough to humour me by reading my books will also attest. But has Cambridge moved on?
When I got home this afternoon I logged onto Facebook to find a message from an old friend from my school days in Cambridge. There was a link to a story in the Guardian.
Still the driven perfectionism that no one admitted back in my day apparently is rife in my old stomping ground. A friend Richard just started work there as a counsellor last week. He wondered why it was that despite fewer students some 600 more students a year access counselling there than do at Hertfordshire. Maybe today's story is proof for him.
I survived despite. Many blamed pressure of Cambridge. Yet there was no pressure until I got ill. I could cope. I was thriving. Then the most obscure emotional attachment destroyed what was my life. What I know is that my life was already a mess. But it was not Cambridge that triggered it.
Think of all those driven high flyers. Privileged? Flawed just like everyone else. They are just bright, bright and flawed. Just like me. Some say suicide rates at Oxford and Cambridge are 10 times higher than at other places. Who guides them back from the brink? Not me. Perhaps one day I will return but that is in the hands of others. I tried and failed 4 years ago. Now I'm good and thriving again. There will be lows in the coming weeks. But no sign of them yet.
I Heard a Voice.
Sunday, 5 October 2014
What a Difference a Day Makes.
What a contrast. After the teeming rain and cold of yesterday we have had bright sunshine all day. Not a cloud in the sky and so warm I sweltered on my post lunch walk.
Yes walking. I need to to shift this weight. I suppose roast gammon and crackling didn't help but it is Sunday. To make up for the good behaviour I had a bakewell tart to go along with Lapsang Souchong tea. A most civilised day.
Tomorrow I have to pick up the pieces for Friday. I always get a little anxious when I meet suicidal students, the wrong words and disaster can follow. But it doesn't usually. I am still haunted by the tragic deaths of 3 students known to me since I got there in 2007. In the reality I could have done no more. But it doesn't stop me asking myself that dreadful question. 3 in 7 years is a tragedy but we can't save everyone. In truth it was down to luck that we didn't lose more. Whilst some rave of my skill the truth is I flounder around in the dark in those circumstances.
Last year I saw a disturbing rise in students who claim to have both bipolar and BPD. Is it possible to have both? I have my doubts. What I do know is that such women, and they are almost exclusively women, are amongst my highest risk people. That trend seems to set to continue.
So as I bask in another kind weekend I am reminded that I must be ever vigilant. Vigilant and lucky. On a kinder note, fantastically well done Ros in completing the Cardiff half marathon, braver than me! See you all in the week.
I Heard a Voice.
Yes walking. I need to to shift this weight. I suppose roast gammon and crackling didn't help but it is Sunday. To make up for the good behaviour I had a bakewell tart to go along with Lapsang Souchong tea. A most civilised day.
Tomorrow I have to pick up the pieces for Friday. I always get a little anxious when I meet suicidal students, the wrong words and disaster can follow. But it doesn't usually. I am still haunted by the tragic deaths of 3 students known to me since I got there in 2007. In the reality I could have done no more. But it doesn't stop me asking myself that dreadful question. 3 in 7 years is a tragedy but we can't save everyone. In truth it was down to luck that we didn't lose more. Whilst some rave of my skill the truth is I flounder around in the dark in those circumstances.
Last year I saw a disturbing rise in students who claim to have both bipolar and BPD. Is it possible to have both? I have my doubts. What I do know is that such women, and they are almost exclusively women, are amongst my highest risk people. That trend seems to set to continue.
So as I bask in another kind weekend I am reminded that I must be ever vigilant. Vigilant and lucky. On a kinder note, fantastically well done Ros in completing the Cardiff half marathon, braver than me! See you all in the week.
I Heard a Voice.
Saturday, 4 October 2014
The Rains of Autumn.
Greetings. I seem to have been away from here for ages. Actually it was Tuesday when I last posted. Well I survived week 1 without too much drama. Had a couple of calls yesterday that led me away from the the plan and on the move but nothing too drastic. Long may that continue.
With the exception of battles with data collection-yes they are ongoing-it was a good week. My meeting with my tutor was really helpful so now have a direction to go. Much of it will be built on my previous work and data I can already access. It had not really troubled me much but my thoughts were rather thwarted by the needs of the ethics committee whose wheels grind slowly and would almost certainly scupper a January deadline. So it will be sampling existing feedback from the last couple of years.
Now it is the weekend. The rain was teeming down much of the day, more like late November than early October. I did venture out and got rather wet. A hearty hot and sour soup with Yang certainly hit the spot then home for study. All accompanied by Cosi fan Tutte.
Work complete I have cooked, stir fried fish with black bean sauce, a dish my mum liked, I watched Inspector Morse, and now have Handel's Xerxes on the radio. I do so like opera in English.
So I bid you good night, I now retire back to T E Lawrence with a beer and a contented heart and mind.
With the exception of battles with data collection-yes they are ongoing-it was a good week. My meeting with my tutor was really helpful so now have a direction to go. Much of it will be built on my previous work and data I can already access. It had not really troubled me much but my thoughts were rather thwarted by the needs of the ethics committee whose wheels grind slowly and would almost certainly scupper a January deadline. So it will be sampling existing feedback from the last couple of years.
Now it is the weekend. The rain was teeming down much of the day, more like late November than early October. I did venture out and got rather wet. A hearty hot and sour soup with Yang certainly hit the spot then home for study. All accompanied by Cosi fan Tutte.
Work complete I have cooked, stir fried fish with black bean sauce, a dish my mum liked, I watched Inspector Morse, and now have Handel's Xerxes on the radio. I do so like opera in English.
So I bid you good night, I now retire back to T E Lawrence with a beer and a contented heart and mind.
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