Goodbye to a Troubled Year.

The final day of 2018 did not dawn terribly auspiciously for me. I slept terribly after staying up late following the Rams, it was getting light when I finally made it to sleep. Waking anxious and uneasy memories of a year ago and what insomnia can do to me came flooding back. Coupled with a very sore throat the omens did not look good.

A few hours later I feel okay. Tired yes, croaky too. But okay. It is another gloomy day here, what a contrast from the glorious Christmas Day. Is it really that long since I posted? My posts on here have slowed considerably in recent months and this last post will end a year in which I posted less than any year since 2012.

The lights are on in my flat and Handel's Arminio is playing. Opera to the end. My thoughts are mixed as I write this. Relieved that we all made it through the year. Still pleased with the flat after my enforced move. Happy to have gone to the depths of hell earlier in the year but to have bounced back. On this day last year I was hugely anxious about dad but did not foresee the calamity that was on the horizon.

Reflecting now it has not been a bad thing to be under a psychiatrist again nor much to my surprise to be back in therapy and finding it helpful. Perhaps I have been too harsh on those who ply their trade as therapists. My previous experiences were awful. Now I'm pleased to be doing it.

You may recall that this blog is dedicated to mental health and food. The world has leapt on the mental health bandwagon in the last couple of years. That makes me uneasy at times. Uncertain of who I am much of the time I must remember that my experiences are real and did happen. Sometimes I feel I made it all up and am just lazy. But that belittles what I have achieved.

That other great love of mine that is food and cooking continues. I celebrate good things to pick up and savour. Friday took me to Borough Market by way of getting horribly lost in Shoreditch and accidentally finding The Clove Club. Celebrated a couple of years ago as the UK's finest restaurant, the menu was simple and tatty. A single typed piece of paper looking terribly old fashioned but the  content looked sublime. But at £145 for the tasting menu and £145 for matching wines it will remain only in my dreams.

Sarah is entertaining me tomorrow with a three course lunch. I get to meet her sons and her grandson and mum. I'm taking camembert, cabrales and English fizz. Let us hope I'm not too hungover.

And thus I leave you for 2018. Enjoy yourselves tonight and may I wish you all a very happy New Year.

I Heard a Voice.

Setting of the Sun.

We watched the sun sink over the western horizon at the beach on this beautiful Christmas Day. The sky is still clear and blue, the rain is nowthere to be seen and although a little cold it is pleasant to be out. Our walk to the beach is a preamble to pudding.

The roast turkey, glazed ham, roast potatoes, red cabbage, sprouts, carrots, pigs in blankets, stuffing, bread sauce and cranberry sauce were most triumphant. A successful brother sister partnership. Dad fell asleep before lunch but didn't spill any Prosecco. Slowly does it on the wine, only just starting our second bottle of Rioja. But there's a long way to go.

Christmas pudding and cheese will come forth later. The most important things is we are all healthy, alive and kicking. That seemed a distant prayer this time last year.

As is my wont on this festive day I will keep it short. Merry Christmas to you all and a Happy New Year when we get there.

Goodnight.

I Heard a Voice.

Clear Blue Sky.

The morning before has dawned clear and bright. The sun shines and the sky is clear blue. Traffic abounds outside and people continue their last minute preparations. Certainly plan a walk along the beach later.

We are waiting for Miriam and Nigel to get here. They planned to set off around 9.30. Not heard any updates so hopefully they are making progress. Dad just got back from town with the ham and turkey. As soon as I've finished this post I will sort the ham out for its braise in apple juice. That will take a couple of hours. Glaze it tomorrow.

A year on from last year's Christmas catastrophe we are all in better shape. The evil anxiety pops up still at times. Often when I first wake up and my mind surveys the fear of the day. I tend to get very down on myself when that happens. And I think I'm lazy. But it is the holiday so nothing wrong with being lazy.

Did I ever imagine I would relapse that deep or that long? No not at all. Big wake up call I suppose but I'm now moving forward with a team to support me, a new found belief that it is okay to ask for help and to acknowledge that while in my more manic moments I like everyone else want to save the world, that is foolish and impossible. In the dark days of last winter the kind GP who helped me said "you must allow yourself to be the patient". And she was right.

My many, varied and awesome friends never stopped helping me out and making me break out from the terrible loneliness that depression bequeaths. And for that I'm eternally grateful.

Enjoy this Christmas. I will post again tomorrow when my gluttony needs a rest. See you all then.

I Heard a Voice.

Moonlight Over the Sea.

The moon is not quite full. The shortest day is upon us. It is mild but dull. And I'm down by the seaside. The long sojourn of the first term is over. The university will not reopen until 2nd January and I'm off until the following week. Hurrah for the holidays.

My journey down was tortuous at times. Only 55 minutes to get the the M20 but then roadworks and speed restrictions much of the way. So with a kind heart and some relief I made it to the coast by late lunctime. Since then I've done little but eat and drink. Rare ribeye at Tammy's, a few jars in The Butt of Sherry. Late start then meeting friends.

Back at dad's he is wrapping presents and we have fish pie on the menu. Tomorrow I will do serious food shopping. It's amazing how much one needs to buy with no shops open and the eternal problem of much food and small fridge. But we will get through.

Miriam and Nigel will arrive on Monday. Had a brainwave that said roast pheasant for when they get here. I think that is a good idea. Then indulgence.

Mentally I'm relaxed, anxiety free and mood is in the plus territory where I want it to be. For a while I can cast aside the worries of other people's mental challenges and focus on just us. They can survive a while without me.

Enjoy it while I can. More posts soon but enjoy your weekend. Time to unwind, to indulge and to be kind. For kindness is so precious. We must all remember that.

I Heard a Voice.

Figaro to the End.

A pale December moon is partially obscured by cloud. The rain is falling on and off. It is not cold but it is very dark. Two days before the winter solstice I have finally finished for the holiday. Way back in June when I took my first tentative steps back to work I was filled with terror, had lost all my confidence and was convinced that I was the most useless waste of space on the planet. Such is the world that mood disorders and more specifically deep depression bequeaths us. Anyone who tells you that depression is easy or a myth is a liar. It can devastate lives.

When I read Matt Haig's wonderful book Reasons to Stay Alive a couple of years ago at the suggestion of Ros I was struck by many things. What I took away most was his comment that "adding anxiety to depression is like giving cocaine to an alcoholic". How very true. I've never tried cocaine and have no intention ever to so do but I do like to drink.

The realisation that anxiety has haunted my life for years just as it did mum's has only really come into full focus in the last year.

Now six months on from my return to work anxiety is mainly at bay. The term though hard has mainly gone well and once again I can believe maybe 5% of the great plaudits my work sometimes attracts. The mania of October is gone but I'm good. The conceited arrogance of some of my life both working and not working is at bay but I'm thriving.

I'm off now until 7th January. I'm very mindful of the events of Christmas a year ago but much less fearful. My last night in Hertfordshire has seen me clear up and eat ribs. The sublime genius that is Figaro plays and I survey my desk cluttered as it is with unchecked lottery tickets, empty envelopes, lovely Christmas cards and other detritus from my not very ordered life.

If you have been reading for a while even from a distance please take away that I value all of you just looking and reading as much as I do the many who have supported me in other ways at times during this sometime dark year.

Next time I will post I will be by the sea. See you then.

I Heard a Voice.

Short but Brutal.

On a quiet, dull Sunday afternoon I'm listening to Massenet on the radio and contemplating the last week. It was short from a work perspective but pretty brutal. After our fairly peaceful start to the academic year it is has turned hard and tragic. People have been left reeling and people feel vulnerable. Term ended on Friday but we do not think we are through such turbulent times.

My last day at work is Wednesday. The plan after that is to head to Hythe for a week, sort out the food, undertake the celebration and catch up with friends. Spoke to dad yesterday which was good. Once again he worries about Christmas cards but he can only manage so much.

I'm looking forward to it really. That is a far cry from when I was really depressed. With the odd exception my mood is in plus territory. Long may it stay there.

Tonight's kitchen treat is slow roast shoulder of pork. Great smell wafting in. Initially I intended to have the day on my own but have now invited Richard. He had a fall recently and is somewhat under the weather so thought I'm save him some effort. Never tire of roast pork.

The question now is do I go out for a pint or just stay in the warm and read. Not sure really. Whatever you are doing out there enjoy your Sunday; and the holidays will soon be here.

I Heard a Voice.

Frost, Mist, Sun, a Winter Morning in the Country.

What a way to wake up on a winter morning. Frost on thick grass, pale mist over the fields, crisp cold and glorious morning sunshine. Winter can be so sublime. I was staying at what some might call a country house, others a rural idyll. My trips to Sussex are few and far between these days. Given how hard it is to function in my chemically medication controlled sleep I felt wonderful this morning. And that despite not sleeping much.

Last night I attended the retirement carol service of my old friend Neil Cox. He put up with my petulant adolescent arrogance and nurtured my musical talent. Only he ever made me enjoy the violin. And he let me sing. I think I joined him for twelve choir tours over the years. And for that I'm hugely grateful. The music was sublime. I saw old friends. I drank mediocre wine but that didn't matter. The only sad part is that my friend Ross's daughter was unwell so couldn't sing. Funny how small the world is. Cambridge connections turn to Lancing connections. What wonderful hosts they were and Eliza despite being not at her best was charming, interested and kind. I certainly wasn't like that at 14.

The journey home was fine. I took a lunch at The Waggoners and am now home listening to Radio 3 and cooking a beef ragu. You may recall pasta is not my thing but thought I would give it a go. I don't think I'm eat it today but can freeze. Smells pretty good.

In two weeks exactly I will be tucking into turkey and glazed gammon. Christmas has come fast. After this year I have some relief and some fear. Memories of dad being so ill are never far from my mind. But he is well and all should go to plan.

I'll leave it there for today. Back to work tomorrow. Enjoy the setting sun.

I Heard a Voice.

Passionate Spain.

On this dull, wet afternoon my life has been transported to Spain. My love of southern Spain is well known amongst my friends. I have been to Seville five times. The sheer emotion and passion of this proud people come forth in all. They eat late and they eat well. The sun shines a lot and the greyness of England seems far away. No I'm not heading back to Spain any time soon but on the radio there is a programme dedicated to flamenco. The sounds of guitar, mournful voice and electric dancing never ceases to draw me in.On this grey and tired day it is most welcome.

My long weekend is underway. The car passed the MOT. I picked up supplies. I cooked for Jo and then I overdid it last night. Feel a little bit guilty as had hoped to pop down to King's Cross to see Beth who has a stall in the market this weekend. But waking late and feeling tired I abandoned the plan.

In its stead I wandered in town to buy a few bits. No further on Christmas presents. Then lunch at The White Horse at Burnham Green and home. Motivation is lacking so I will award myself a day off. Okay so I did do some washing and clearing up but that's about it.

The trip to Sussex is planned. I have to contend with three dogs where I'm staying which makes me a little nervous. But I will be okay.

Tomorrow I will cook roast beef for friends. Should I open the good wine? Is it a special enough occasion? Maybe. Keeping going in the kitchen is as much as I can manage.

Whatever you are up to, relax and have fun. Back soon.

I Heard a Voice.

A Friendly Conversation.

Traffic wardens are some of the most reviled people in this country. Who would want that job? I'm sure they are spat at and abused by some, shouted at by others. I'm not entirely sure I've ever had a conversation with one. Until today. No I didn't get in trouble. But my plan today before my afternoon meeting was to try to check out how the new parking restrictions look in town. Purely by chance I wandered down to look at the sign said traffic warden was there. So I asked her. And much to my surprise she was not only helpful but very friendly. It is not helpful that yet more parking is restricted but at least I won't get caught out.

The difficult time in my life continues. Not really my life, more my working life. And struggle as I do I do need to keep trying to separate the two. Something of relief then that I'm now off for a few days. Tomorrow car MOT and service. A quiet weekend, well if you exclude Jo coming to dinner tomorrow, followed by an overnight trip to Sussex on Monday.

For what may be the last time I will attend the vast chapel of Lancing College for a carol service. Neil my old music teacher is retiring. So with great reverence I will try to pay homage to a man who had big influence on my life.

Closer to home I saw the therapy chap today. Continues to be quite helpful and surprising. I'd never been a fan owing to terrible past experiences. Perhaps I'm in a more meaningful place to change now.

Back at home opera night has shifted to Thursday. I was out with Sarah last night to celebrate her birthday. Despite nightmares with buses when I eventually got there I had a good time. And we had a lovely waitress who really looked after us. Tonight it is Cosi fan Tutte and making a start on Howards End. Had hoped to begin last week but it didn't happen.

Enjoy the coming weekend. And remember the holiday will soon be upon. Take care and good night.

I Heard a Voice.

A Dreary and Tired Saturday.

On a wet and dreary Saturday afternoon you find me at home listening to Beethoven on the radio. I'm very tired today after a tough week and not much sleep. After weeks of serenely progressing through my working life the wheels didn't quite fall off this week but it was hard going. A week ago the day dawned well. The silly kitchen catastrophe of which I wrote then triggered off a chain reaction. Sunday I felt low and anxious. Monday brought uncertainty. Wednesday sadness and self beating. And Friday was just a get through the day day.

The lack of sleep and the bad dreams of last night have left me weary but still going. I did some shopping both eating, Christmas and birthday for Sarah. Tonight's kitchen offering is rabbit with prunes in red wine. Looking forward to that. Then tomorrow roast pheasant.

I bought some nice wine yesterday and am slowly ramping up my liver for Christmas. Never do much crazy anymore when drinking now. Like to be more controlled. It is good to indulge though in the festive period.

As I write the wider world of the UK is most unsettled. What will be the outcome of the brexit vote in parliament? I vividly recall that summer day a couple of years ago when I walked down to vote uncertain either way as no one knew what either outcome would bring. Now we are just as uncertain. That the government will lose the vote seems a given. But then what? A general election will take us no further forward. These times are so uncertain.

More soon.

I Heard a Voice.