Wednesday 26 April 2017

Distant Drums and Whispered Tremors.

A bitter northerly wind swept over the campus much of today. Having overdressed for cold weather yesterday I misread today's signs and ventured in clothed for a not too warm summer day. It was a mistake. Freezing.

Since my last post and in fact what was evident through my week off was that all was not right with me. In the distance, quiet but distinct the drums of my madness were beating, the seismic tremors of breakdown were still far off but I could hear them whispering.

The two things that I always have to watch are sleep and stress. Yes we have had more than a few stresses in recent weeks but I coped. So why did those devastating dreams so haunt and destroy me whilst I should have been resting?

Sunday night was very bad and I woke worried. Tuesday too. I toyed both days with the idea of staying home but my determination to go held. Yesterday was tough, real tough. I was left wondering if I would get a call today that could have eventually led me to a coroner's court. Life and death, sometimes that comes to me.

Now a day removed and danger averted I feel in a rather better place. My kitchen adventures were a disaster, my improvisational skills clearly need to be revised. I'm not very forgiving of myself for bad food.

Putting it in perspective now though I cannot hear drums beat distant or close. The earth of my life and edifice is still. There are things to look forward to. Pay day on Friday. And a trip to Cambridge. Tosca. My lovely friend Jayne. The Phoenix restaurant Histon. And maybe connecting with a friend from childhood. I'm trying to sort a visit to a girl I used to know. Facebook inevitably made us aware we both still exist. And maybe we will meet. The past is not all bad. And the future will not be either. Just on some days when those whispers come I get frightened that the bad will engulf me once more.

I Heard a Voice.

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