Home Alone.

The early years of my illness were marred not only by suicidal lows but also by chronic insomnia. It is no coincidence that my anti depressant is also a powerful sedative. In more recent years when I have struggled I have slept for Europe. The Risperidone empties my mind and the sleep recharges me. Within a couple of weeks I am back to normal.

Now two days into my latest setback my sleep is impaired again. It was sporadic to say the least last night as I found myself over processing my decision to stay off work for a few days even if it makes me feel even more of a fraud. Waking at 6.30 am I cancelled once again with a curiously elegant text-that was constructed when allegedly asleep.

I feel nothing now. Only nothing. I do not want to talk to anyone but I know I must. I have the dreaded trip to the dentist this afternoon so anxiety is rising by the minute. Will I be okay for Thursday? Sometimes being alone and the loneliness that entails is all I can cope with. Come on Risperidone, do your magic.

The plan to travel down tomorrow is still intact. Question is what reading material do I take? I have chosen Lexi's book and some more Hemingway. Worthy books are back on the menu.

I Heard a Voice.

Handel on a Grey Day

The rain is over and gone. The greyness and clouds remain outside. Gloom resides in my part of Hertfordshire. The gloom of my mood remains too. After yesterday's nose dive I find myself verging on -3 on the scale. Not been this bad since before Christmas. I decided around 6 am that I would stay home today.

Not much has been achieved and there has been no perceivable shift in my mood. That extraordinary sense of nothing and fraudulence has enveloped me. To try to pass a couple of hours I have put the Messiah on. May have a go at some reading after this.

I have very little time to be depressed. Laura's wedding is on Thursday and I suppose I need to be upbeat for that. At a wedding some years ago the psychosis switch shifted and I was left stranded without any medication. Ever since I have always carried 3 mg of Risperidone around with me at all times.

My dose was increased last night now it is time to sit tight and wait. It will change. It is just a question of how long. Then maybe I can face the world again. I certainly don't want to face it today. So I will stick to Handel and wait. When will the sun come back? Soon I hope.

I Heard a Voice.

Staying Home.

What to say on another wet and dreary day? Yes the rain, cold and bleakness of Friday has returned. And with it my flat despondent mood. I have been desperately tired all weekend. I did emerge somewhat earlier today but did not feel like doing anything. So I cancelled my trip to London and have settled back with opera and the paper.

The hours are ticking away. I really do not want to think of tomorrow. I'm only doing 2 days this week but that is more than enough. The angst of work is creeping up on me more this weekend. I'm normally pretty good at blotting it out but not now.

I probably ought to go out for a walk but the greyness is not exactly very enticing. So staying indoors is the order of the day. Starting another book is an option. I finished my other current book yesterday too. So many to choose from in my cupboard. I ought to make a start on my friend Lexi's book-I've had it for months but not opened it. Another worthy book too? Maybe wait a while on that option.

Until next time let's hope my mood picks up.

I Heard a Voice.

Worthiness Rewarded.

My friend Kevin who I met in Spain said to me recently how hard it is is to read worthy books. You know, the classics we all ought to read but find it such hard work to do so. Well it may have taken nearly 2 years but I have finally finished Seven Pillars of Wisdom. Actually rather than being dull as many classics are it is a great read. The problems comes more in the intensity of it which reduced me to reading only 2-3 chapters at a time. But I'm glad I read it. Those who wonder at the great upheaval which is the Arab world today would do well to read it for it provides a mighty insight.

Accompanying my final push on the book I have had Handel's Israel in Egypt. I'm still debating whether to devote tonight to more culture and reading or to just watch Morse. Whatever I do it will be preceded by a healthy supper of pan fried sardines, Jersey Royal potatoes and a tomato salad.

I think I feel better after yesterday's abject despondency. Sleeping helped, I didn't wake up until 12.30 pm. Though whether I have the energy to make it to London tomorrow as planned has yet to be decided. I could really do with a day of nothing. Oh well, I will decide on the morrow.

I Heard a Voice.

Looking Back or Looking Forward?

Looking out the window on an incredibly wet summer day my mind is taken back to that summer of 2007. It was the summer I uprooted my life and moved to Hertfordshire. That summer it poured down for months as I was wracked with anxiety about the future. In the end I got the flat on the Thursday, moved on the Sunday and started the job on the Monday.

All these years later I see those who surrounded me then all moved on into retirement or up the greasy pole. And me? I'm still treating water. I have moved nowhere and am beginning to wonder if anything ever will change. There was promise of help to make my life more manageable yet I learned this week other expectation will in all likelihood make it more complicated. Why am I taking on yet another role? In truth as my great friend Kym once said "you have all the responsibility but none of the power". And it would seem that is the way it would stay.

So as I enter another weekend I am flat and uninterested. Yes next week I will go to Kent for Laura's wedding. Yes I will go to see dad. But when I come back it will all still be there. I fear already for the beginning of term madness.

I Heard a Voice.

Six Centuries Up.

No the title of this post is not related to England being hammered in the second Test-centuries are required. Rather is a reference to the fact that in the nearly 5 years I have been writing this blog post number 600 is the one I'm writing right now. I know little of who reads my blog other than where people come from. I seem popular in the USA and Russia. Those in the UK are I'm sure only friends who humour me. Dad of course supports me as does Miriam. Other than that I know very little.

The audience can still be fickle but given last month's second highest viewing figures of all time I guess some of you think I have something interesting to say.

So what of this weekend? Shopping and domesticity done. I popped out earlier for a pint in The Waggoners and am expecting Gary and Ali round for roast gammon just before 7 pm. I never quite know if white or red is the correct bottle to go with ham. I have both. Whatever is the correct etiquette I hope it will be fun, I do so love cooking for friends.

Most weekends I don't think about work. Today I'm a little anxious. I have an unexpected meeting request and I have no idea what it is about. Hence my minor fear. No doubt it will be fine as we hurtle along on the 8th summer of my time in Hertfordshire.

See you all in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

The English Summer Season.

Is there a finer way to spend a sunny Friday afternoon than at Lord's watching the Ashes Test? I spent the day there yesterday surrounded by yellow shirted Aussies and a few English gentlemen. In Panama hat and blazer with bottle of chilled English Chapel Down Bacchus wine I certainly did my part as an English gentleman. It was not exactly England's day as Australia battered them all round the field then blew away the top order. Led by the legendary Aussie bowler Merv Hughes who seemed to be in charge of the yellow shirted brethren, the eruption of noise when Joe Root was caught behind was a sound to be heard. I had a marvellous day.

With the sun still in the air today has been a little more sedate. Shopping then cleaning. I have a gammon joint tomorrow as I have friends coming for dinner. The rest of my beef vindaloo tonight and perhaps an episode of Morse. Summer is moving so fast. It was nice to have a day away from work although there life went on as my student I was concerned about was finally detained. That made me feel very sad but sometimes it needs to happen.

The week after next will be busy. Sunday lunch with my New Zealand friend Sarah. She has lived in Thailand for a few years so it will be a long time to catch up. Then on the Wednesday I head for Kent for Laura's wedding. A nice chance to catch up with dad too. But for now it back to my glass of Pimm's and the cricket. See you all soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Speak Ill of the Dead.

Death is a recurrent if depressing theme to my blog. I have noted many times before that I have seen way too many deaths for a now middle aged, increasingly portly, balding and greying nobody. Also noted before is that we rarely speak ill of the dead. We merely speak ill of the living.

I was deeply saddened to learn yesterday of the death of my friend and former close colleague Sylvia. It was not unexpected giving that she has been fighting cancer for the last 3 years. Last time I saw her she told me of her desperate fear of death, as she put it "you are a long time dead". We spoke on the phone a few weeks ago and it was clear she was nearing the end. That day she had just arrived back from hospital so she was exhausted. It was a short call for that reason. Tragically we never spoke again.

She left the University feeling rejected and disillusioned. Her work in her view dismissed by the power games of others. How ironic then that I learned the news from the very same person who had ushered her career out the door. The tributes were suitably gushing but as I say we never speak ill of the dead.

I feel sad but will move on. I valued her hugely. It will in time become another death in many. Now as I listen to Rossini on the radio the lead played by a man I once knew I can reflect. A night of quiet contemplation away from the TV awaits. More reading I think.

I Heard a Voice.

A Thumping Victory!

Did anyone out there really expect what happened in Cardiff over the last few days? England's beleaguered and much maligned cricket team thumping Australia inside 4 days. At 43 for 3 after the first hour England seemed doomed once again to be humiliated. Yet they fought back to out bat, out bowl and out field Australia. What a day yesterday when the last wicket fell to a skied catch in the deep. Battle resumes on Thursday and on Friday I will take my seat in my finery in the Grandstand at Lord's for what I hope will be a marvellous day out.

Back to Sunday Tosca has been played in its entirety, I took a 40 minute walk, I'm waiting for King's on Choral Evensong at 3 pm, the pork has just gone in the oven and reading beckons. It is a beautiful spare rib cut of pork, very hard to find normally. That will roast on a low temperature for around 4 hours for a melting texture. A friend is coming and bringing Rioja.

Mentally I think I'm doing pretty well. Must update my mood diary tomorrow, I'm somewhat behind. My new colleague Sami starts tomorrow. I hope her bountiful energy and enthusiasm doesn't get lost in the face of the many brick walls I have run into in the last 8 years.

Summer is marching on. Soon NFL training camps will be upon us I'm really hoping this time next year my beloved Rams will be back in Los Angeles where they belong.

See you all soon.

I Heard a Voice.

The Waiting Game.

Small and insignificant though it may be on a day like today, I found myself in my worst nightmare. As I always say I have no power at all unless shit and fan collide. Then I have to make that call to the people with power. Today was such a day.

That tense, nervous on edge boredom of waiting for the power of the Mental Health Act to be invoked. I do not invoke it but I facilitate others to do so. My day of waiting was in vain, back to the starting blocks tomorrow. I hate these days and they wear me out. Having power can be a terrible thing.

Tomorrow we will see.

I Heard a Voice.

That Day.

On that tragic day a decade ago I was walking along the beach on Romney Marsh with a man called David. My phone bleeped and a strange cryptic message came through from Miriam. It said simply "I'm not in London today". I had no idea what she was talking about. I learned within the hour that as I had long predicted the bombers had struck in London.

Being a child of the 70s and 80s many such events happened. But none like this. 4 young men blowing themselves up for their idea of Islam. 52 ordinary people were killed. It did not affect me directly but it did others. Today is a day to mourn our dead. It is also a day to mourn the many 1000s who have died in this war whenever it started. The bombers will come again.

It is a frightening world in which we live. I am not political so have no idea of a solution. Sadly it doesn't appear anyone else does either.

I Heard a Voice.

Byrd, Lamb and The Sunday Times.

On a dull overcast day that has threatened but not given rain I have stayed home to read, cook and listen. The lamb is slowly roasting away with fine aromas of garlic and rosemary, the paper is mainly read and Mozart has been done. Next up is Byrd's classic Four Part Mass. That comes up at 5 pm. Oh I do like my Sundays.

The quiet season beckons tomorrow. I'm getting by but not exactly feeling inspired. In truth I'm counting down the days until Lord's. The First Test starts on Wednesday, an odd day for the start of a series. Then a week Friday I don my Panama and head for the Grandstand at Lord's for what I hope will be a splendid day out.

Funny though it may seem this summer is flying by. 3 weeks on Thursday my friend Laura is getting married. Why do people keep asking me to read lessons, I'm terrible at reading aloud. But I will do my best. Then August. 46 is fast approaching. My 30s seem a lifetime away now. Hard to believe I have been here nearly 8 years. Will it be another 8 years before anything happens? God I hope not. My friend Jayne is confident I will end up in Cambridge one day but it doesn't seem likely now. So the waiting goes on. Enjoy the week, I'll chat again soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Books Galore.

A few days on from my last baffled post I am none the wiser what went wrong. The dust has settled, despite the fears of some I did not go into meltdown and another weekend is upon us.

I'm listening to Haydn on yet another warm afternoon and reading. I did venture out early for a fiercely short haircut, to shop and a little visit to The Horns. Not been there for a while. I also managed some domesticity despite the heat and am limbering myself up for a curry.

Further opera will ensue after the curry, Tchaikovsky's The Queen of Spades. And reading. Nearly there on T E Lawrence. I still have a pile of unread books and that will only get worse as I discovered last week that Waterstones is coming to town. I'm not sure when they are opening but it will be nice to have a book shop back a couple of years after the last one closed.

I suppose I ought to brave the heat and go for a walk tomorrow. Slow roast shoulder of lamb is on the menu with some home made mint sauce. It's been a while since I had lamb on a Sunday.

See you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Puzzled in the Heat.

The UK has just experienced the hottest July day on record. Back in my flat all the windows and doors are open, there is little breeze, I'm sweltering and baffled. Not just baffled but puzzled, confused, perplexed and trying to digest events that to most seem beyond belief.

My slightly cryptic notes on here about a plan all came to nought today with a simple e mail. It was a plan involving a job and Cambridge. A job that could have been made for me. Who with my experience and knowledge of Cambridge would possibly want a job of that nature? Well I suppose there must be someone out there as I didn't even get an interview.

In what I laughingly call my career I have faced setback, confusion, rejection, stigma and all manner of failure. What then is another setback? Well to me it feels that if I can't even get an interview for that job what else will ever happen.

This may all sound self indulgent were it not for the fact everyone else who is familiar with my work and my life in Cambridge are stunned by it. So I'm not alone but that doesn't help. Will another opportunity come my way? Maybe.

Given what has happened in my life I suppose I have done well. Few people ever get out of the benefits trap. Few unqualified people have got into such an influential position as a mental health practitioner. Yet I'm still where I was yesterday. Just now wondering once again what next?

I Heard a Voice.