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.
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