Sultry Comedown.

On a warm, sultry and overcast afternoon I set out earlier for a walk. Some time since I did my Sunday walks regularly. Well at all. My intention was to clear my head but things proved stubbornly fixed as they have for the last week. Flat, apathetic, lethargic, tired and lack of motivation. Is this the comedown that cocaine addicts talk of?

Never tried cocaine and have no intention to. Yet the analogy seems fair. The high of the opera seems long gone. For a couple of days I felt refreshed from being away. It didn't last sadly and the last week has been a real struggle.

Not sure I would describe myself as low but all the others shit that comes with living with a mood disorder is very much evident. And I hate it. Just getting out of bed has seemed mission impossible. The dreams have come back and sleep is disrupted. I woke at 7 am then slept again and until 10 am. Still I couldn't get out of bed. In the end I did but not had any motivation.

Given the circumstances doing the washing, getting out for a walk and making lunch is some achievement. My desolate outlook is not helped by the discovery that I could have sung in King's yesterday but wasn't aware anything was going on. By curious twist of fate I had been contemplating going to King's yesterday to hear the choir but wasn't certain if they were still singing or on holiday. Never been Cleobury's greatest fan-that's the polite version of the story-but suspect now I will not get an opportunity to say goodbye.

Another working week beckons tomorrow. I hope it's not as bad as last week when every hour seemed to drag and I wanted to be anywhere but there. The week is short as I'm off Friday and Monday. Will catch the train down to Kent on Friday morning and come back Monday lunchtime. Be good to escape.

As for now I've put Handel on, I'm trying to cool down and have a small joint of gammon to cook. A dash of mustard, some nice roast potatoes and fresh vegetables. After all it is Sunday. See you soon.

I Heard a Voice.