A Tale of Two Sarahs.

That night was unusually warm and balmy. Humid and almost tropical it was not a straightforward October evening. All along what was called Pits Passage people had left windows open as they went to bed. It was 1987, I was in my Oxbridge entrance term at school. Yes I well recall this day 30 years ago. By morning southern England had been devastated by a mighty storm the likes of which may only come once in a life time on these curious islands. They say another hurricane will hit tonight but I'm not expecting much here.

Oxford never panned out but Cambridge did. Oh how the years that followed changed my life. Who could have known that the bright but angry youth would within four years have a complete psychotic breakdown and end up in a run down Victorian lunatic asylum? That was the start of the journey that led me to where I am now, jaded mental health professional who questions himself more than ever and only sees the flaws. Where is that confident arrogant man who took on the greatest psychiatric minds and won? Where is that energetic and fanatically driven man who was going to change the world? Is there anything left?

There were plenty of doubts this week. It was hard going. Once again I was confronted by the mirror test and almost found wanting. Still with the remnants of my autumn cold clinging on I came close to "I can't do this anymore".

But survive I did. In no small part this was down to my friends, two of whom I dined and lunched with this week. A tale of two Sarahs, Sussex Sarah on Wednesday and Kiwi Sarah who by coincidence now lives in Sussex yesterday kept me sane. And for that I'm eternally grateful.

Not entirely sure my diet enjoyed the experience but I did. Rare steak and chips with Malbec and pudding at The White Horse on Wednesday then pigeon breast with black pudding followed by medium rare pork tenderloin with a bottle of Malbec and cheese to end at The White Hart. How good is that?

Is order restored as I prepare for week 4? Puccini and Haydn have been with me today. So too Gary and Ali who came for roast chicken. That has to keep me in today not tomorrow.

Can I keep my anxiety at bay? Will my mood slump? I do hope not. But I must focus on what I do well and I did do some things well this week rather than obsess about that bad which whilst rarer did come to bite me in recent days.

Welcome back my audience, figures are buzzing again and enjoy this quiet Sunday.

I Heard a Voice.