Success at Last.

Hello out there on this snowy day. I do hope you are safe and had no falls on the ice. Yes the Russian weather has ground much of the UK to a halt. Here in sunny Hertfordshire I think we have got away with this quite lightly compared to other places. I'm not a fan of snow so hope it goes soon.

So what to say after my recent absence. In terms of fact I have now moved next door, from number 26 to number 21. The actual move with the help of my friends went remarkably smoothly and we had completed it in three hours. Finished in time to watch the rugby.

The new flat is much nicer, better set out, carpeted throughout and with a balcony. Sadly it has the same old style boiler as was just replaced in the old flat but so far so good. The sofa was delivered on Monday, most of my unpacking is done. There was a problem with the broadband that has only just been fixed but here I am.

In terms of mental health the anxiety has dissipated considerably. I had two good days mood wise. Less so today sadly. Sleep remains unsettled and I'm worried that will prolong things. I have a fear that people will forget that my issues of recent weeks still exist despite the move. That was certainly hugely contributing to my anxiety but was not the whole story.

An appointment has been made for me on Friday morning for an initial assessment with the mental health people. I don't know who I'm seeing but I hope it is not just a test for CBT. That isn't what I need.

Lying in bed on Monday morning, awake but unwilling to get up I was musing on the ebb and flow of the tide on the beach. As the tide ebbs the rock pools isolate and sit, when it flows they fill. Digging a hole will attract water. And that water feels like the ludicrous detritus of my recent travails. My mood disorder still exists even though my circumstances have improved. As I posted a while ago, you can't run away from yourself.

So it is still a day at a time. I'm not going far in this snow so staying home is on the cards. Lunch time I think. Now I have a freezer I have taken myself back to the 1970s and will indulge my passion for fishfingers, what a marvellous way to christen a new home.

I Heard a Voice.

Signing off for a While.

This is likely my final post before I move. The flat is warm, Puccini is on the radio, I'm surrounded by bags and boxes and the air is tinged with memories. Have I really been in this somewhat cursed flat for the last nine years? I'm nearly all packed. The flat passed the inspection and nothing stands in the way with the move but a contract, a large sum of money and my army of kind helpers.

I will not be back in the land of cyber frivolity until Tuesday at the earliest. That's assuming I don't have some mad desire to write again tonight. When we next speak I suspect I will still be surrounded by bags and boxes, I will again be alone and wondering what next in this roller coaster that has been my life for the last few weeks.

Do I have regrets about decisions I have made both recently and in the past? I've certainly made a lot of mistakes and by doing so have contributed to my underlying unhappiness. The wondrous effects of Risperidone when I first took it way back have dimmed. I do not know what will happen next and my mood is not shifting. As many have pointed out under my recent circumstances who wouldn't experience mental turbulence? I did not ask for this course of events to transpire and it is once again proof that there is much in life that we do not control.

All my devastating worries since dad was ill have come to nothing. Each a perception blown out of the water by reality. Will I ever rid myself of this plague? Still I await my call from HPFT. I do not really want to push. Why should I have special treatment because of who I am and what I do? But I'm nervous about what might be the suggestion when they do call.

My intention is to go back to the GP next week. The pressure of the move will ease but will it be replaced by turning my life once again to work? I do have to go back at some point. A colleague kindly text this afternoon to inquire how I am. Good to hear from her but wish my news was more optimistic.

And so once again I leave you. I promise to be back soon when this flat will be history and my new turn in life will be under way.

I Heard a Voice.

The Whirling Dervish That is Jess.

As each day passes and the sun goes down I move a step closer to whatever will be. Everyone told me not to do too much at a time and they were right. I move on Saturday and it all seems to be coming together. Jess has been round today to clean the flat. She rushed through it with the skills of a whirling dervish and like the wrath of God.

Another piece in the puzzle is complete. Not a huge amount left to do. Given what progress has been made I do not understand why my anxiety is high today. Mood too remains stubbornly in minus territory. One would have thought that might be shifting by now but sadly not.

I'm still awaiting my phone triage, no doubt they will phone when I'm indisposed. My manager suggested this afternoon having another go at pulling some strings. I had contacted her to update and once again was relieved that her response was very supportive.

When we're in the midst of crises and the bullets are flying life can be hard at work. But when my bullets are flying as they have been since early January I'm pleased to have received kindness, support and understanding.

Not entirely sure I know what to say or why to say it today. Perhaps just to remind people that I'm still going despite the challenges I face. It still feels self indulgent at times but my friends keep reminding me that it is okay to be struggling and okay not to get everything right all of the time.

Had any of you called me two weeks ago I would have been a wreck. I do not feel a wreck today but yesterday was easier. Why this should be I do not know. The vaguaries of a mood disorder never cease to amaze me.

When I do finally get to see a psychiatrist I really don't know what they might suggest. An addition maybe? I do not really want to do a subtraction. Although my faith in Risperidone has been shaken I'm far more fearful of coming off it than sticking with it. Will the pack of deluded lies that so haunted my early psychiatric career mean I will be judged before I even see them? There is always that possibility. How different life might have been had Heather McAlister who put me on it in first place not left so quickly after that life changing moment. But that did happen and has to an extent stymied me in more recent years.

I guess I will leave you on that note. Do I cook tonight or not? That is the next decision to be made.

I Heard a Voice.

Absent With Leave.

For all the plans that have gone into action in the past two weeks, it was clear from the start that not all would go smoothly. Progress in happening exactly two weeks after the bombshell of the move. Much of my life is packed up. Much is thrown away. And much recycled. The kindness of my friends continues to amaze me.

Jo was going to come and help today but cannot now come as she has to look after her parents. She will instead come tomorrow so the plan is just a little delayed. I was all set to make us lunch when we took a break but it wasn't to be. So I have been plodding on alone. Washing, cleaning and wrapping. Not all my most skilled talents but I'm doing the best I can. I have nightmares that something will happen in Jess's life on Thursday when she is due to come down but we will keep our fingers crossed.

I rang the agent today and they confirmed that barring signing the contract and picking up the keys on Saturday the flat is mine. I think I have six people coming to help Saturday lunchtime. I hope we can make short work of things but it will take some time to unpack.

Hard to judge where I am mentally today. Whilst my dinner out with friends last night was excellent I cannot overall say yesterday was good; my fear remained high all day. The lingering low mood rumbles on and occasionally work comes into that equation and muddies my troubled mind. In a sense it is on the back burner for the time being but must be addressed at some point. In my anguish late last night that feared mental cutting almost came into play with thoughts of looking at work e mails. I didn't do that though.

I'm not sure what to tackle next after the washing is done. There's not a lot of room to move or store things now. I fear some will have to be completed on the day. But at least I've done something on this wet dull afternoon.

Must ring my dad later. Take care on this first day of the working week. I will persevere and in the end we will conclude a most unexpected, unwelcome and unhappy interlude in my life.

I Heard a Voice.

Wanton Greed.

Why am I so greedy? Obsessed with possession at the cost of contentment. As I clear what has been my life for the last nine years I realise that my flat is littered with junk that I have bought and never used, kind gifts kept away in cupboards and general foolish materialism. So much has ended up in the bin. I must have given away 60 books to charity. My DVDs and CDs aren't even here and still I'm surrounded by boxes and bags of things I have just desired and bought.

Harvey whom I spoke to last Sunday urged me to take an Asian approach that stability is more important than possession. I'm certainly learning that the hard way.

My mood remains pretty low although at least today the darkest of thoughts are not there. That terrible bedfellow of depression guilt is very much the order of today. I slept a little better but have achieved very little and I'm now punishing myself for it. The magic wand that we all want to wipe away our tears and despair and right everything is just a myth. Methodically, bit by bit I'm packing up my life.

In a positive world, the one I'm struggling to access at the moment, I will be moving on to better things. A nicer place, more security and not the isolation that has so devastated me the last couple of times I moved. But finding positive when depressed is hard. So much of my vast horde of spurious possessions was bought in response to the loneliness of new beginnings, battling a mood disorder for many years and foolish desireism (made up word I know but apt). I remain a willing partner and advocate for the decadent west. Maybe that is where I'm going wrong.

Every waking minute is consumed by fear and what if. How long I can keep going I do not know. In a week I will still be surrounded by bags and boxes, cut off from the world with no broadband, TV and phone but in the new place. Given how guilty I feel that my current place isn't perfect my next fear will be how do I manage a beautiful new place.

This responsibility bit that comes with being an adult and trying to establish some form of semi independence is never easy. My legacy of King's is that I'm not as motivated to do the boring nitty gritty of life as Bernie Rosen called it as I might be.

As I sign off today I'm not sure how much further along the path I am. Yes I can say there is always tomorrow but the tomorrows are rapidly running out.

I Heard a Voice.

Taking a Break.

Hello again out there. I decided yesterday that I'm posting too much so took a short day off. Today I'm taking a short day off from the business of moving. I made a lot of progress yesterday. Three storage cupboards sorted and ready to empty on the day. More rubbish went out, I recycled then today got rid of some more books. I will have some help next week and a friend is coming tomorrow to dispose of a lot of paperwork that can't really go in the recycling.

My plan today was to meet my friend Krishna but she's not at her best so text to cancel. A shame but not a problem. My mood and anxiety are lurking today, popping up to bite on occasion, staying quiet on others occasions. I'm waiting for a call back from the agent as I want an update. The impending change is coming quickly. It seems only yesterday I looked at the new place and got the ball rolling.

A colleague of mine Lynne took me out last night. So good to catch up and chat. My return to work will be in the future, when I do not know. The letter from the Trust came today, as I feared I think they are just going offer me CBT. To start with though there is a phone triage in the next 10 to 14 days. Privately I'm in touch with a consultant and he is asking his colleague to see me.

Life is so up in the air at the moment. So much to work out and change. Actually despite my depression attempting to batter me I think I've done really well so far. What the future holds is uncertain. For I know that the issues that felled me back in the first week of January have not gone away because I have to move. Lynne and I talked about that at some length.

Later I'm hoping to meet a couple of friends to celebrate the Chinese New Year with Yang. That cannot be ignored. Sarah hopes to be back in time to join us when she comes back from a day trip to Sussex.

There is likely to be lull in my posting from Saturday next week as I will have to sort broadband, phone and TV. My worry is that alone in flat with no connections and chaos around me my mood is likely to plummet.

If you're coming to the end of your working week enjoy the break. I will plug on and see where life takes me.

I Heard a Voice.

Respecting Tradition.

You find me on a wet and cold Ash Wednesday at home amidst the chaos. It crossed my mind this morning that I wouldn't be able to keep up my tradition of listening to the Miserere on this day as I'd packed up all my recordings of it and shipped them to my neighbour's. Given how fragile my mind is stupidly little things like that play over endlessly but then I remembered it would be on Choral Evensong on Radio 3. So I got to hear it after all. It was a version I didn't know and was good in places but not fantastic.

As happened last time I heard it live in King's it occurred to me that these were little boys singing and can be forgiven for not being perfect. The bar was set so high when I was a little boy that it is easy to forget. The rage that sometimes accompanied our mistakes would not be tolerated now. It was wrong then too but the world was a very different place in the late 70s and early 80s. We certainly had our catastrophes singing, Palestrina's Stabat Mater collapsed once and we also floundered singing Tallis once.

On this dark and dismal day though I'm faring a little better than yesterday. The anxiety was crippling then. But I still didn't take a diazepam. A few more things are sorted which helps but I can quietly hear the tick tock of time slipping away from me.

Sleep remains a worry, I only got five hours in the night. Food remains a problem although I will try to cook tonight, lamb chop and roast potatoes.

In the indulgence of social media I posted something that I wouldn't normally do about my mental state and had a deluge of support come back to me. The trials and tribulations of my current situation has allowed me to reconnect to people I have perhaps neglected recently.

A small army of people has been mobilised to help on the day. Although many of you don't know me I'm only 5'6" and 10 stone, not very strong with it. So it was a huge help last night when two quite strong friends offered to help.

I popped into the agent today with a couple of queries, more ludicrous fears allayed. I've done some more packing and decluttering. Tired now though. So I will leave on the Valentine's Day, hope all you who have spouses, civil partners or just partners have a wonderful evening. I'm not even going to attempt to go out to eat tonight.

I Heard a Voice.

Another Tough Day.

As soon as I looked at my phone this morning my anxiety went into overdrive and my mood plummeted. Shouldn't really have been surprised but suddenly the ante and pressure of my move have gone up.

All day I have been clearing, cleaning, throwing things out and fighting against a tide chaos. I don't feel I succeeded but more has gone. I didn't eat lunch until 4.30 and then only a toasted sandwich. Feel in a bit of a haze now. I need to eat again but not sure what. The thought of cooking does not feel good. All I have in is a chicken breast and some vegetables. There re also some pork steaks but they are close to use by date.

I did manage to speak to GP today. Now 27 years into my psychiatric career I have finally been prescribed a small dose of diazepam. Never tried benzos before and am somewhat reluctant knowing what I know about them. It is a weapon of last resort.

At times I feel like crying. They say that is good for us but it's a place I dislike. Despair can bring on that sense of weakness. My mood is not shifting at all and stays stubbornly below the zero line. How long can I keep that up?

People keep trying to lift me up and sometimes for a little while it works. But each day I wake and see more chaos.

Work seems a million miles away now. Thoughts of whether I will ever go back loom large at the lowest moments. It all seems so impossible. They continue to support me though and tell me to take the time I need.

The future looks bleak tonight but I will fight on. Must eat, must stay hydrated and must try to sleep. Jess and Jo are going to help me with the cleaning next week although I fear it is too little too late. My kind friends remain more optimistic than me but I must hang on to the glimmer that comes at the end of each day.

More tomorrow if you're not too bored of me.

I Heard a Voice.

A Lull in the Storm.

Life looked pretty bleak yesterday. Given my history I do apologise if I worried anyone. That post was very emotive and I was in two minds whether to save it. But save it I did in an attempt to remind myself when I get to harbour wherever that is that I have survived the darkness. Also as is my wont this blog is partially about mental health and I try hard to put into words the terrible price of mental illness in the hope that others can gain something from it.

Although I woke early today my anxiety was not as intense. I tried to see through a different lens and focus on what I can do and take it a step at a time. Lurking in the darkness is that solve one problem and three more come up feeling. But I have done a lot.

Part of my less mangled emotional state was down to two old Cambridge friends I have rarely seen and rarely communicated with in recent years. I spent an hour on the phone to my friend Harvey who provided no end of help, advice and wisdom after many years travelling. He told me to forgive myself for what I get wrong. He also learned in his time in Asia that stability in life is more important than wanton materialism. Much as I look at the life of my peers from those days as being more successful than me, it is abundantly apparent that many of us struggled with fear and worry despite the shiny exterior.

What was important in the Cambridge of the late 1980s is not what is important now. Wise man.

Whilst on the phone a series of messages came through from another Cambridge friend Anna. I have been feeling quite guilty about not thanking her for her help that terrible night dad was in hospital. She messaged me through the night back then and she stunned me last night. She too has had to face the darkness of her despair and said that my books had really helped her at that time. I had no idea she had even read them.

The issue of publicising my books was a mixed one. I worried if people who knew me at school and Cambridge read it they would just dismiss me as a pathetic failure. So I didn't do too much and certainly didn't put anything in the alumni magazines where so many others promote their work.

It is both humbling and comforting that I was able to help someone who I regarded with some awe given how successful her career has been. Ros said to me a while ago, the testimonials and ego trips we see in those magazines do not tell the story of relationship break up, alcohol and drug use, breakdowns and child abuse that are so rife in society but people rarely talk about it unless in the therapist's chair. A lot comes out on psychiatric wards and much of it is pretty grim.

Last night I was not too far off heading back in that direction. I've not been an inpatient since 1994. I thought I would never go back until last night. I'm back from the brink now. I've done a lot of things today, collected and sent off sick note, arranged a GP telephone appointment tomorrow, boxed up somethings, thrown some things away and did some recycling. Also been onto utilities and given notice.

Living in a place for nine years leads to a lot of clutter and dirt. Jess is going to help at some point. So much further to go though.

Not sure what to take on next after a breather. Beka is going to call me back in a bit after we had a brief chat.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring but for a little while I will try to make progress during this lull in the storm.

I Heard a Voice.

Inside That Glass Box.

Many years ago a woman I supported who had such a loving family and was surrounded by her many children described her depression as "like being inside a glass box, I can see and hear the world but I cannot touch it". The crippling loneliness that is depression seeps into the very soul of your being. We can be surrounded but so utterly alone.

Today has been really tough. I only completed one task and that sent me to the ends of the earth. Naked fear, terror and what if have been decimating my mind all afternoon and evening. I posted on Facebook and as ever people responded. I went for a walk and got caught in the hail. Saw some people in the pub. Cooked and ate roast beef with my friends. Spoke to dad and Beka on the phone. And still here I am trembling to my very being with fear.

I have the semblance of plan tomorrow. I doubt I will sleep but I must try. All yesterday's progress seems but a drop in an ocean of uncertainty. Everyone is reassuring me but although I can see the world I cannot touch or believe it.

My battles with mental ill health have been long. For some years after discovering Risperidone I thought I had triumphed. Done what seemed impossible. Yet today it feels like I'm all the way back to 1990/91 when my life was so bleak. This time I'm seeking help. I will arrange another phone appointment with the GP tomorrow. But a life without apparent hope is a true test of resilience and experience. I do not feel I'm winning today.

The path is not clear, it deviates and goes to places I did not expect. A week ago I was preparing to watch the Super Bowl. Yes I was depressed and yes I felt guilty and yes I lived with fear. But not like this.

My mind is playing tricks on me. I must muzzle it if I can. I must accept the wise counsel of everyone I spoke to today. They are all on my side. But can we fight a ticking clock? That's a tough ask.

Next time I come to talk to you this latest anxiety will probably have subsided to be replaced by another. Such is life with the anxious depressed mind.

I Heard a Voice.

The Milk of Human Kindness.

Sometimes when I look at all the awful things that go on in this world I despair. Poverty, hunger, war, oppression, aggression, envy, arrogance, pollution, plundering of the world's resources, the haves and the have nots, natural disasters. There are many more injustices in this world that I cannot list. The Greeks had the legend of Pandora's Box to explain evil.

With all that going on in this world it is sometimes hard to remember that many people are kind, supportive, loving and caring. The challenges in my life of recent weeks probably pale in comparison to many but whether we like it, accept it and embrace it mental illness exists. That I question that every day of my life is a given. It has given me a career, friends, enemies, fears, regrets and recriminations. But it features highly in my life.

What has been so overwhelming in recent weeks is not just the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune to misquote I think Shakespeare...English A Level was a long time ago...but the kindness of my many friends. There are too many to name who have offered help, love, works and hugs.

From my old student Krishna ringing in the week as she was worried about me, to Gary who sat me down the day after the flat bombshell helped me see a different perspective and made me write a list, to Miriam who gave up her Saturday to come and help. Not least is dad whose extraordinary generosity has kept me from darker places. It is very expensive to move.

And then this afternoon as I went over to watch the rugby in the pub my kind friend Catherine peeling off from her friends and spending more than an hour talking to me. She too has lived adversity and unknown to me has also had a shitty few months with health.

None of them needed to take the time to help me but they did. Made huge strides clearing, binning, packing, recycling and generally sorting the mess that is my life. My worries about papers, letters, those kinds of things that can't be recycled for security reasons have been absolved by the offer of a bonfire with my friend Nick once I know what has got to go and I'm more settled.

My posts of late have been quite dark for which I ask your forgiveness. Let us hope that in a few weeks' time I will be better, moved and settled I will post brighter things.

For now my old love of Mozart is helping my Saturday night. Tomorrow there is more to do but I am cooking, roast beef with Gary and Ali.

Thanks also to all you people who tune in to read, it buoys me on dark days.

I Heard a Voice.

A Week Can Be a Long Time.

A week ago I was down at the seaside. Kent was cold and wet that day. I had escaped the madness of my working life but was beating myself up with guilt for not being there. My mood was low but the anxiety had eased a little. Whilst cooking a shin of beef in ale casserole I wrestled with what to do tomorrow. Go home or stay an extra day?

In the end I caught the train home last Saturday. Time was on my side to try to get better but I was disappointed with my progress. At that point who could have thought what would happen next.

The following Friday has arrived. It has been a devastating week and at times I was in such a dark place that I was thinking really bad thoughts. But as I sit here on a cold Friday night I have somewhere to move to, I have got rid of a lot of stuff, made a start and done the initial stages of moving. There is a long way to go and I'm still terrified but I'm on my way.

Knowing that things under this pressure are unlikely to level out for a while I had to go back to the doctor. That has bought me another two weeks. Not what I want but apparently necessary.

My lovely friend Jazz text and offered to meet for lunch. We haven't seen each other for three years. Her daughter Teagan was still a baby then. So good to meet up but my unsteady, anxious shakiness made eating hard.

I have done enough for today. Things are going round my head and lots to do but I'm in a better place than where I feared I might be on Monday afternoon.

I'm not sure what to eat for supper. I feel hungry but can't face eating or cooking. Fish and chips perhaps? Not what I normally eat but an option.

Sleep remains erratic which causes me quite a lot of concern. Can't let a meltdown happen now however far my fertile mind takes me to ludicrous and dark places. In three weeks I will be in a new flat. It's only next door. And The Hedgehog remains over the road. See you all soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Sifting Through Nine Years of Wreckage.

My mood is low, my anxiety is high and my fear of the unknown is all pervading. After the hammer blow of Monday all I wanted to do was hide under the duvet and sleep forever. Or go out and get drunk. Darker thoughts too have been popping in. I know that may scare people but I'm not at risk just very frightened.

With help from my friends I have sorted a few things. Got rid of books and magazines. Thrown out some stuff that in truth I haven't touched in the nine years I have been here.Why am I such a hoarder? I have a list of the many things that need doing and I have two viewings booked tomorrow. Feels like I'm inching forward in the dark to an unknown and distant conclusion.

All these fears I had the last two times I moved have come flooding back. What is clear is that I will be a lot worse off financially so my days of wanton decadence are probably behind me.

What is ahead has yet to reveal itself. Many areas of my life have not been right in the last few years. The crossroads I have talked of before has still given me no clear direction. Signpost to where? I do not know.

Yet each day I plan to do a little bit and try to manage that way. I know I will need to go back to GP next week as work seems overwhelming and I'm in no fit state to be there. I hope they can manage a little while longer without me.

There were several calls yesterday from friends, Miriam and dad. They are all willing me on. Miriam will visit on Saturday to help out. Beka too has offered to help when the time comes.

I'm struggling to eat at the moment and was physically sick yesterday such was the level of my worry. I have to force myself to eat as I can feel my legs swaying at times and threatening to buckle. It was very noticeable as I walked in town. The shaking makes it hard to pick up a cup or a glass or to use a fork successfully.

The apparent cruelty of my present predicament pales when related to that of others less fortunate than me. Some do not have friends or family to help. Thank goodness I do.

What I will do after this post is up in the air. I've done some cleaning in my very amateur and not very effective way. Another thing to worry about. The detritus of my life lies dusty and disturbed. Soon it will be packed away and the place empty. It makes me question my life and what I'm doing with it.

Have I made good decisions? What will happen next? Am I doing the right things? The fuzz of my mind and the gloom of a packed up depressing flat clutter what I see. As I quoted in my MSc the book of Job "Oh where shall wisdom be found?" At this stage I do not know.

I Heard a Voice.

A Further Blow.

That my life has not been great for the last few weeks is something of an understatement. Waking late this morning I did not feel much further on in my quest to get well again. The effects of mental ill health are stubbornly hanging onto me. What I didn't need was another hammer blow.

Said blow came this afternoon with a text out of the blue from my landlord saying he is getting rid of the flat and I will have to move. Suddenly a shift in gear kicked in and all those terrible fears of 2007 and 2009 about finding somewhere and going through the stress of moving came flying back.

Can this really be happening again? Already I feel overwhelmed and my mind is out of control. Yes people will help, they always do but the magnitude of what I face is racing away in my mind. Why does this have to happen now? Well at all.

While it is true my stay has not been exactly happy all the time. Trouble with heating and plumbing has plagued me ever since I moved in. There was little security and I was at the whim of others most of that time. I have often cursed the decision I made to move here but the thought of finding an alternative was just too much.

Now that decision has been forced on me. I do not know timescales yet, hopefully I will be given some time. I will go to estate agents tomorrow to look. Dad will help as he so often does. Thoughts of going back to reality now seems further away than ever.

And so on what has been grim day for me I wave goodbye for now. The mind will I suspect race from now until whenever and wherever I move.

I Heard a Voice.

Arrogant, Rude and Aggressive. Some People are Never Happy.

It strikes me that the "youth of today" of every generation are much maligned. Is this generation any worse than my generation? I graduated during a recession but apparently the last was the worst ever. I had my breakdown during the early stages of care in the community. Yet this generation have more mental health problems and face worse services. Every generation recalls the powerless boredom of being a teenager. But apparently social media makes it worse.

I do not have answers for this recurring problem but what I do know is that lots of young people have very low paid jobs and are exposed to the arrogance the rudeness of some who are wealthier than them. Most young people who work in restaurants or behind bars earn very little. Yet they are forced to face the brunt of such rude arrogant people.

When Sarah and I got to The Waggoners for a late lunch I knew we were in trouble by the sheer volume of the appalling woman in the corner next to us shouting across the table. We were then subjected to an entire afternoon of complaint after complaint aimed at the young, overworked waitresses. In case you didn't know you arrogant bitch bones are in the nature of ordering fish. If you don't like it, fuck off and stop spoiling everyones' afternoon.

We had a long chat after to the young women who looked after us on a difficult and busy afternoon. It is my pet hate people who are so rude to the young who in the main are trying their best. Despite the noise, annoyance and the running out of roast beef we had a lovely lunch.

As you will gather I have returned to Hertfordshire. I came back yesterday afternoon and had a pretty good trip. My mood remains flat at best and the anxiety comes and goes. It was helpful talking to a GP and I'm expecting Kym to ring with her thoughts later when she gets back from her trip to Newcastle. Things stand with me still off. I'm trying hard not to overthink. That was easy by the sea, those walks along the front were soothing.

Time though marches on and I'm not sure where I'm going. There are so many layers to my current series of setbacks. I will find my way but there doesn't seem to be a clear path just yet.

Tonight I will stay up late for the Super Bowl. The fridge is stocked, the TV warmed and flat quite comforting. Will be cheering on the Eagles although I put their chances at pretty thin. But there have been surprises before and I hope there is again.

I Heard a Voice.

Into the Setting Sun.

Looking out the window there is a glorious setting sun. It lights up the sea air in a way that never happens back home in Hertfordshire. I have returned to the sea to try to make sense of my recent setbacks. As the sun sets on the first day of February you find me relatively anxiety free and mood not as perilously low as early in the week.

My enforced withdrawal from normality took a hell of a toll on Monday and Tuesday. As so often happens my many friends have rallied round. Suggestions are coming in and I'm working my contacts. Just walking along the seafront, watching the waves, hearing the surf, the gulls, the wind took me away from things as I hoped it would. Running is not always a bad plan.

The kind GP I met a couple of weeks ago rang today. We had a long and useful chat. We have agreed that going back to find a psychiatrist loses me nothing and potentially gains me much. We will work out the ethical complications as we go along. Kym too has been consulting with Peter and has some ideas which she will relay to me later. Above all I must not commit the error of my youth and fight those trying to help me.

Down here under the setting sun there is some peace. There are also reminders of not such good times. A balance must be struck. I will walk again tomorrow and not visit dark places.

Knowing as you all do my love of the full moon I have to report that my glimpse of the super blue blood moon was pretty disappointing. High and apparently distant it did not stand out in any way compared to many previous incarnations I have reported on here. I guess I was in the wrong place and looking at the wrong time to witness the allegedly spectacular. Another time I suppose.

Dad is off for a CT scan this evening. I will go out to eat I think. I quite fancy Thai although the previous times I have visited the Thai place here I have been sadly disappointed. Do I risk it again? We will see.

I Heard a Voice.