Just Tuesday.

The rain is coming down once again. Tuesday, only Tuesday. Indoors after a day of bits and pieces there is little to entice me out. Instead I'm listening to the music of Telemann on the radio and cooking bangers and mash. Not any old bangers but wild boar. Great thick sausages that need the oven to cook them through.

Despite the rain I am much better than yesterday. The anxiety has disappeared as quickly as it came. I am dreading tomorrow's appraisal, the longest and most pointless 2 hours of my working life. I suppose I should be thankful I've not had to go through that for some years. Always hard answering vague ideas of "where do you think you will be in 2-3 years time?" How am I supposed to know that? Had I answered 4 years ago it would have been not here. Yet here I am and remain.

Something interesting came up today though. A friend of mine called Matt who is very accomplished semi pro photography asked he could shoot me for a piece he is doing on people from Hythe. Slightly baffled why he would be interested in me but for some reason he is. Will do that when things settle after dad has moved.

My mood diary was completed today. Not as upbeat as I had hoped. Yesterday rated a -3. But my many friends rally round in dark times even if I always try to shut them out.

On this short week I wish you all well. I never did get my Easter egg. Maybe buy one next year.

Remembering a Fateful Day.

Up until 4 years ago 28th March held little significance for me. I have 2 friends with birthdays but the world of Facebook has many birthdays brought each day so no more significant than any other date. Then in 2012 all changed in my life. For on that day my mum died after getting into difficulty in the sea the previous day.

It seems like yesterday. She would have been 84 had she lived. On this day I woke very anxious and edgy. The dreams were bad which is always a poor way to start. It is a feeling she knew well as her last years were overwhelmed by anxiety. In a way I wish I had booked this week off. But I didn't have enough leave days left. Had it been a work day I would have thought hard about moving. Today it was hard to even get out of bed.

I don't feel like doing much and have a sense of not fitting. Restless is a good word for it with a complete lack of motivation. Let us hope it only lasts a short time.

A fierce storm hit southern England today. I'm hoping Miriam made it down to dad's as planned. They will mourn together and I will alone. No pilgrimage to the memorial for me although I did manage to go back in January.

I will leave you all now and quietly shut off from the world for today. May the day pass without incident.

I Heard a Voice.

Choppy Waters.

A sinking has not occurred in the Boat Race since 1978. That was the year I went to Cambridge to sing. In the 9 years I have lived in Cambridge we have lost the men's race every year. On a blustery, wet and choppy day on the Thames Cambridge women nearly went under. It is a long time since I saw such difficult conditions on the water. Men's race yet to come.

I paid the price for the clocks going forward last night waking extremely late. Not much going on today other than a leg of lamb that is about to go in the oven. Reading will be the order of the day whilst it cooks. Gary and Ali cancelled so there will be a lot of meat going. Perhaps a shepherd's pie will be on the cards later in the week.

The long weekend has gone so quickly. Wednesday is the dreaded appraisal day. Managed to avoid them the last few years but it has crept up on me. I'm expecting an edgy day.

Term won't start for another couple of weeks but contrary to what many people assume I do not get long holidays like teachers. It is just like any other job really. That said they are pretty generous on holidays.

It's just possible I will learn something important later this week. I'm waiting for a message. I expect the worst but pray for the best.

Today is the most important Christian Festival. Dad had a good morning at church as did Miriam in different parts of the country. They will come together tomorrow.

Happy Easter to you all and enjoy the rest of the holiday.

I Heard a Voice.

Another Milestone.

As I write there have been exactly 34,000 hits on my blog since I started. When it all began I assumed no one was interested. Yet here we are. I suppose some people somewhere feel I have something interesting to write.

So to another Saturday. Very tired again when I woke. The sun has disappeared and severe weather warnings are out for later. Once I got my head in gear I took a little drive out to The Waggoners to see Amber and Laurent. Then to the butcher for supplies; even got some wild boar sausages that I will have on Monday.

With little on my mind turns to tedious domesticity. This is just a break in the cleaning. Hoover next. I lead such an interesting life. Sometimes I feel a little lost on long weekends. Never quite know what to do with myself. Film later maybe.

Mood wise I feel a bit flat. Around a boring 0 on my scale. The past few weeks have been much better for me. On those days that sense that I'm a fraud and was faking my illness before Christmas comes back. Can anyone really recall the dark times when we are back in the light? The mind won't let us remember-thank goodness.

Must get on though, see you all soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Not Quite How I Envisaged It.

A beautiful sunny Good Friday. The Easter weekend is upon us and we are all looking forward to time away from work. Yet even this early in the weekend things have gone awry. My intention today was to go to London to meet Ros. Unfortunately she had something come up so we will have to meet another day. The upside of the change of plan was a nice lie in. That too proved to be a disaster as the nightmares came back. Fears of moving-yes that anxiety still plagues me even if I have no plans at present-then being damned by friends. Not a good night. I woke jaded and edgy.

I could simply have turned round, shut the world out and retreated into myself. Instead in desert boots, blazer and shades I hit the sunshine. It is lovely out there. I shopped for a decadent weekend, free range chicken tonight, crab tomorrow and a leg of lamb for an Easter Sunday indulgence. I'm hoping Gary and Ali will join me then.

Rather than waste a day I have decided to do a country pub trip with Richard. The White Hart at Welwyn has just been reopened by the same people who run The Tilbury at Datchworth. And given that they made it into the top restaurants under £20 list in the Sunday Times it must be worth a visit.

Not bought an Easter egg yet. May or may not do so, chocolate is a substance I can take or leave. But at Easter it is a tradition.

The Boat Race is on Sunday afternoon so technically the start of the Pimm's season. I have half a bottle left over from last year so bought mint, cucumber, lemon, lime and lemonade to open the season. The forecast isn't too kind for Sunday but maybe we will get lucky.

I Heard a Voice.

Twilight Full Moon.

I left my flat at about 6.30 tonight on my way to visit my friend Lin who is standing in for Yang at the Fu Hao whilst she is on a cruise. It was dusk outside as this spring emerges from the shadows of winter and twilight beckoned. Up the hill and round the corner I was confronted by a beautiful pale full moon in the fading light. I think it is full, maybe tomorrow. On this day of savagery in Belgium it brought me back to the good that is in nature and the world. I can do nothing to end this war but I can try to be mindful of the world around and ground myself in such solace.

In my small part of the world I am sometimes saddened by being right. Some years ago I wrote a post for Time to Change exposing the truth of mental health professionals' attitudes to those written off with personality disorders. They refused to publish it as was and only released it in the highly sanitised version. Once again I was proved correct yesterday. A young woman's life is now damned forever. Voices dismissed as "pseudo" and grow up attitude.

I have become old, disillusioned and cynical on my working world. I pretty much know the outcome for most of my students within a couple of visits. Sometimes even earlier. I take no credit in being right today. We don't think often enough of those who flounder at university and are cast off as "withdrawn". They remain on a system but we know little of their futures.

Often I accused of dismissing my achievements. Yet as I have said all along I'm only as good as the students I can help. On this day it seems to matter little. But it does to those we cast off as failures. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened had my breakdown occurred 3 months earlier. There would have been no Cambridge degree. Would I have been cast into the outer darkness? We will never know.

I Heard a Voice.

A Weekend at the Seaside.

Britain is famous for it is love of holidays at the seaside. My earliest memory of holidays was balmy days and cream teas in Devon when I was around 3. Memorable partly because Miriam did not come with us as she was unwell. Unlike so many later in my life being by the seaside became an every day occurrence. Dad has lived in his house for 37 years. And now it has been sold. He is downsizing and so much of our lives is now parting from us. I accumulated a lot of crap in those years. I have few qualms about throwing things away. We're getting there.

This weekend we set aside moving and clearing and just had a birthday meet up. Nice dinner in The Butt of Sherry on Friday, roasted guinea fowl on Saturday and a delightful rare beef for lunch at The Clarendon today. The trains were not at their best but it was a good weekend.

I'm on the cusp of Easter. Not thinking at this stage of work but I am thinking of my rendezvous with Ros on Friday. We last met in the summer. We always have good time so I'm looking forward to seeing her very much.

And a long weekend to come. I plan little after Friday, just some good food, lamb I think for Easter Day and lots of rest. Have a good week out there.

I Heard a Voice.

A Single Pebble.

There is a very poignant Simon and Garfunkel song from the 1960s which includes a simple line "I threw a pebble on a brook, and watched the ripples run away". A single pebble can cause ripples that get out of control. Way back in the summer, a simple comment not properly thought through was thrown into the water that is my life. Immediately I felt the ripple and knew danger. I saw the outcome straight away.

The ripples from that pebble grew and grew in the autumn until utterly overwhelmed by expectation, confusion and uncertainty I withdrew from the world for 5 long weeks.

Spring is now here and I'm better. Recent readers will see how much more upbeat my posts have been of late. All along though I knew that pebble had not been resolved. Today I was reminded of that and am now irritated enough to blog when it is prudent not to do so.

Without clear instruction, aim and support I cannot complete tasks that are not mine to complete. If you want me to complete those tasks take some others away. If not I may have to retire from the world again. I certainly don't want to do that.

Plea over I will go and enjoy St Patrick's Day. We all celebrate that Irish or not. To celebrate St George's Day risks being branded a racist. There is a plan for that too and I will celebrate the patron Saint of England. And I am no racist.

I Heard a Voice.

The Signs are Out.

Out there in the dark my world is surrounded by the signs of spring nearly here. Birds, daffodils and sunshine all hint at that longed for change of season. Gilbert and Sullivan had it right in The Pirates of Penzance describing "that beastly month of February". The evenings are lighter and I'm driving home before the black of night. All looks good but for this incessant bitter wind that seems to have been swirling around for weeks.

Icy blasts aside I'm doing pretty well in my little world. It remains busy and at time frustrating but I'm managing. A couple of months ago it seemed as if I would never manage again. But on track I am.

My Wednesday night of opera is in full swing. I'm cooking a lamb curry for tomorrow with dried pomegranate seeds. Having consumed some lovely roast beef at work I settled for a Greek inspired salad of halloumi with grapes and a lemon and olive oil dressing. My book beckons as my flat fills with the scent of fine food and spices.

I have few thoughts of tomorrow other than it is a day closer to seeing dad. I will of course call him tomorrow to wish him happy birthday but we will celebrate on Friday. Things are moving apace down his way with an offer already in on his house. Maybe he will have to move sooner than we expected.

Back to my opera now until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

Taking the Plunge.

Today I did something that may shape my future. Whether it works out in my favour we will know in a few weeks. Taking a risk is the only way to move on. So I did what I set out to do in the plan I feared had been derailed before it started. In some ways it is going back to a future that could and should have happened a long time ago. My friend Heather believes things happen for a reason. I don't know if she is right but I know what I would like to happen. Whether it does or not is in the hands of others.

There was little to report on today. I made it into the kitchen to do some very nice Cambodian pork with noodles. I'm very familiar with Thai and Vietnamese, less so Cambodian. Many of the ingredients are similar just different combinations. I was impressed with what I had.

Thursday marks dad's birthday. I will travel down on the train to see him for a belated celebration on Friday. Seems ages since I saw him but in reality only a few weeks.

The week ahead looks busy. But it keeps me occupied and stops me thinking too much of other things that cause anxiety. I feel quite calm now. May tomorrow be ever thus.

I Heard a Voice.

Mixed News.

Hello, it has been a few days. How are you all on this beautifully sunny but cold day? I'm in the warm listening to the Messiah and laying the ground for a possible adventure. At this point I'm having a little pause as I collect my thoughts.

Perhaps you are wondering on my news in my absence. In truth there is little to report other than getting a week closer to Easter. The only thing that is significant to have happened was my trip to London yesterday. I was going back to face the past in the form of a woman I vaguely knew all those years ago at Maurice Craig. And it transpires that it is that obscure name unknown to anyone outside mental health circles that led to her getting in touch. We were both patients in the unit in 1994.

I had some trepidation as I got down there but we had a lovely day. A beer in the sun, The National Portrait Gallery then dim sum. And we talked and talked. We were two who did get out and we speculated on the fate of those others. Sadly I learned of another suicide. I'm not surprised but never nice to hear. That brings the tally of my friends to 11. So sad.

Nessa made an interesting point that maybe it is easier to see someone else who moved on from those days rather than someone still stuck. Maybe some day someone else will contact me. Reconnecting can be fun but fraught with uncertainty. In the last few years 3 people from my past have a e mailed out of the blue. And all 3 have their connections to mental health.

That's enough of madness now, I need to work a plan for later today. I could go for a walk in the sun. I could put an opera on and lay further plans. Whatever I do I will keep it simple. I'm not roasting anything today but will just have simple pork chop with vegetables and potatoes. Yes I do do simple sometimes.

I will see you all again in the week.

I Heard a Voice.

False Impressions.

Tuesdays are not always my best day. Today was actually fairly quiet and allowed me to get on with some admin that I was way behind on. Behind because of my incompetence, my fear of technology and a brand new quirk to a new system no one had ever seen before. And of course it had to be me who found it and thus ran into yet another barrier. But I got there in the end. It was just very boring.

To temper my boredom I decided a reading night was in the offing. Handel's Israel in Egypt is my accompaniment but I've yet to choose what to read.

It would appear that my post earlier about a plan going wrong was actually misreading the situation-skim reading is not always good. So there is a plan in the making. Probably nothing will come of it but without taking calculated risks it is not easy to make changes to one's life. I will take that risk.

My trip to London on Saturday is looming large in my mind. Looking forward and a little nervous. The woman I am going to meet has not been seen by me for over 20 years. What will we be like now? Both in a dark place when we knew each other by all accounts we survived and thrived. I doubt that can be said of all my friends from those days. How do I describe that bond that we share having been on a psychiatric ward together? Is it a badge of honour? A dark badge maybe but no one who has not been on a psychiatric will ever understand it.

Back to my reading now. More soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Here We Are Again.

That day has arrived. The day on which the living trumpet their mothers and those who no longer have them run away and mourn quietly. As noted yesterday Mother's Day is never easy for me. In the main I avoid social media. I also avoid trying to go anywhere, all the pubs and restaurants are packed. It is but another day but one I would rather forget.

The bright sunshine of this morning has faded to grey cloud. There was a bitter wind when I went to buy my paper. I'm procrastinating really, hovering over the paper when I should be checking the fine detail of the plan I mentioned yesterday. It still seems a non starter but still worth a look. Not sure I have the energy today to concentrate that much.

A spare rib joint of pork seasoned with salt, pepper and thyme has just gone in the oven. My friends Gary and Ali will come and join me after they suitable motherly devotions earlier. I have already listened to opera, Beethoven's Fidelio. I need to pop into town before setting forth on another one. I saw a bargain of something I needed yesterday but did not have enough arms to buy it and carry it when loaded down with other shopping. Given my recent luck I expect it will have gone. But it will allow me to pick up the bits I forgot yesterday anyway.

Little thought has been given to what the morrow will bring. Let's hope it stays way until I have to think. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

That's Not How the Plan was Supposed to Be.

Hello out there. I thought you all deserved a break from my inane ramblings so not be on here since Wednesday. You will no doubt be pleased to know I am now recovered from the bug and doing very well.

The visit of my great friend Beka was marvellous. Her meeting went well and we had a suitably splendid, decadent, fun filled evening of food, ale and film. Sadly she had to go down to Kent early this afternoon so we didn't manage lunch at The White Horse as I had hoped.

In a way it was good she came when she did as I experienced something of a blow yesterday. For a long time now I have been waiting for something to happen that might aid my route out of the stuck road I have been on for the last 4 years. It was just a matter of biding my time and waiting. That wait came to an end yesterday when word came through that it was time to move. So it was a huge blow to discover that the plan will no longer happen as it is simply not viable to go from full time work to part time work. I'm love to work 4 days a week; I have no doubt that my health would improve if I did. But I need money to live and what is on offer would not be enough.

So with great sadness I feel destiny slipping from my grasp and I go back to waiting for something that may not happen. When is my luck going to change?

Back to today I pottered into town, had the monthly haircut and cut throat shave and hot towels, shopped, got dad's birthday present and contemplated what to do tonight. The result is roast Harissa chicken stuffed with coriander and a lemony sauce. Some simple new potatoes and minted peas will complete the venture. And a small glass of Chablis.

Tomorrow is a day I really don't like. It will be a day of in your face revelry that I find hard and makes me remember. Mum will be on many people's minds tomorrow, for those of us without a mum it is indeed a harsh day.

I Heard a Voice.

How Disappointing.

Sometimes I like a little variety in my work. Days I particularly like are when I'm interviewing candidates for jobs although I feel less certain of wielding a little power that can alter people's lives. The intention today was to do some interviewing of students to become next year's Residential Assistants living in Hall and providing out of hours support to students. I've been involved in that the last 2 years. Disappointingly it was not to be as once again I had to call in sick.

Mentally I'm much better than yesterday-appears to have been an example of my occasional mental blips. What was also going on yesterday which I didn't put too much credence to was that I picked up a stomach bug. Unpleasant as it is/was it was very secondary to the mental side of things. Sadly it decided to afflict me for another day.

I'm not been out at all, daren't risk it. Instead I have listened to music and enjoyed for the first time in a while Choral Evensong live on Radio 3, this week from Magdalen College Oxford. And very good it was too with a programme of Baroque music with suitable instruments to accompany the singing. None of the pieces were known to me but it was nice.

So what to do now? I hesitate to eat too much given how I feel but must do something at some stage. Being home can be pretty boring but time will pass. And with it good riddance to the bug when it finally goes; may that be as soon as possible.

Biting Back.

Some days in my life mental illness comes back and reminds me it exists. My friend Steve down in Sussex describes his bipolar as the little dog on a lead that walks behind me, most of the time it walks behind me but sometimes it bites me on the bum. After a series of vile dreams early this morning mental illness fought back against my recent advance and I came to a shuddering terrible halt. Having abandoned all hope of doing anything today I eventually struggled out of bed and am now feeling well and truly bitten.

Added to this I am cold and shivery despite it being a warm day. Bunged up and listless I'm really hoping I'm not coming down with the virus that has felled so many of my friends and colleagues in the last couple of weeks.

Outside the rain is on us. I have no desire to go outside at all. Rumour has it there could be snow tomorrow. It has in the main been gentle with us this winter. Wet yes, icy wind sometimes but not bad. As we are in March is spring with us?

With the heating turned up and a drowsy muddled mind I'm listening to Haydn on the radio and will hope the hours pass by in not too much despair. Low is the order of today but I'm determined not to let it last long. Risperidone do your magic and get me back on the track I have so successfully pursued the past few weeks.