A Culinary Adventure.

A little experiment with my photos. Tonight home made lamb curry. Very good.

Being a technical moron the above is something of an achievement. As indeed was the curry dreamt out using a combination of age old recipe books, a bounty of ingredients in the cupboard, accidentally buying dice lamb rather than minced lamb and the experience of many years in a kitchen.

It brought pleasure on an otherwise grey and wet day, a painful physio session and the dullness of summer holiday work. I feel very sore after physio as does my bank balance but needed to be done. I have a follow up on Thursday.

Back at home I'm listening to Mozart's Mass in C Minor and doing a little reading. Tomorrow brings little to look forward to. The physio warned me I could be very sore tomorrow. The bonus of tomorrow is that it is pay day so I can be a little indulgent. But too much indulgence recently means it's back to austerity measures. Make progress over a couple of months then it is dashed away by frivolous high living and travel, profligate waste and the fighting the eternal battle with my mood.

In theory my pay goes up next month. That's something to look forward to but I suspect the rise will not be in line with 37% increase in my parking permit. Oh well, the Lord giveth and taketh away. See you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

In the Cold Light of Day.

Inviting people for Sunday lunch always seems a brilliant idea on a Saturday in the pub with the beer flowing and frivolity in full swing. Never seems quite the same when I wake up on a Sunday morning. Fear and worry abound and interrupt my sleep. Will I wake too late? Can I get the meat up to room temperature in time? Can I be bothered to peel and parboil potatoes? Do I make Yorkshire puddings? Will I overcook it? All those fears swamp me in the cold light of day.

Today all those worries did interrupt my sleep but as usually happens I triumphed in the end. The beef was sublimely rare, the potatoes beautifully crisp, the vegetables al dente and perfect, and the most wonderful glass of Chianti.

Now on a chilly afternoon I'm listening to Cosi fan Tutte with my wine still sipped only not sunk my life is my own. After a very difficult week I'm alone again with my thoughts. My friend Marie has been visiting and my fear aside we've had a lovely weekend.

The weather broke on Friday so after the suffocating heat and humidity sense was restored. Sadly so was the rain too so no trip to St Albans as planned. But we amused ourselves and had a good time.

If I said I wasn't anxious about tomorrow I would be lying. Things are unresolved but will be at some point. My neck and shoulder problems of two years ago resurfaced on Thursday and I have a physio appointment booked for Tuesday. Hopefully need just the one. Very effective but very expensive.

May I wish you all a good Sunday. I will concentrate on Mozart and just relax. Tomorrow is yet a way off.

I Heard a Voice.

Staying Mute in the Heat.

Last night when I came home I was raging. Not because it was so hot, or the traffic was bad or anything other than it has not been an easy week. I could have ranted on here but I chose to stay mute. We will just leave it there.

Today is Wednesday so opera time. I've not seen much of today's extraordinary events at Westminster other than confirmation my country remains deeply divided. A prime minister who is elected only by his or her party members rather than the country does not bode well for anyone. This is the fourth time this has happened in my lifetime and if I recall neither Jim Callahan nor Gordon Brown went on to win the next election, and Theresa May lost her majority. How will Boris Johnson do? Given the state of our situation not well I would imagine.

Steering clear of that though other my passing comment. Instead I will focus on Mozart and my book. That is assuming I do not wilt in the intense heat and oppressive atmosphere. We Brits do not do so well in this situation. Will the thunder come again and save us from oppression? The power of my medication made me oblivious to the raging storms last night.

Looking forward though I have only one more day at work before a long weekend. I'm not looking forward to tomorrow, review days so often go horribly wrong. In all the time I've been there it has been hard not to feel isolated. That hasn't really changed despite there being more people there now.

I will have company at the weekend though as my friend Marie is coming up from Kent on Friday. Thought we might venture out for a late lunch at The White Horse in Burnham Green.

Not sure I will get to post again until next week. Stay safe and hydrated in the sun. Bye.

I Heard a Voice.

PS What a disastrous day for England at Lord's, utterly humiliated by Ireland.

Troubled Night, Off and On Day.

Being woken up by a dream that my mum was trying to section me was not quite what I wanted. Always edgy when she comes in the night it added an extra layer of doubt this morning. With sporadic heavy showers I abandoned my vague plan of going to London. Instead I went to see a festival in town dodging the rain and was hugely disappointed, no food stalls at all.

I can however rely on Yang and had some nice Singapore noodles and a couple of beers. Homeward bound early I was left with what to do this afternoon. In a mood that was neither high nor low I cooked Ragu and lazily followed TV rubbish.

Now that is done and I'm waiting for Sarah to come after work to share the Ragu I have put Handel on and will just read. The Richmond Tigers are on at 7.30 pm but I'm sure Sarah will be bored to death by that so am recording. Not sure I've ever mentioned my love of Aussie Rules but it was kindled way back in 1983 when I watched the Tigers at the MCG on my last King's tour. Until my move last year I didn't have access to watch but now can take in a couple of games a week if I so desire.

Looking back at the week it was tough at times. It really shouldn't be like this in July. In a recollection that reflects my previous post that I'm a mental health expert not a security guard or policeman it was testing. And no sign yet of a resolution. When people are ill they can do things out of the ordinary. Aggression is not as common as Joe public thinks but can come out. I hate that part of my job, but if it is down to illness as I believe I need to face it.

I'm hoping the anxiety of what may be to come next week will not mar my weekend. At the moment I'm okay. What will tomorrow bring?

Taking solace in my kitchen there is roasted belly pork on the menu. Think I will chop a fennel bulb and use that as a base. Have plenty of stock to make gravy so that should all be fine.

Wherever you are and whatever you are doing have fun, weekends go o so quickly. Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.

Saturday Wanders.

The air is very still. The sky is overcast. The heat and humidity has dissipated. And a pleasant summer's afternoon is unfolding. The women's final at Wimbledon is under way. Tomorrow we have the cricket world cup final, the men's final in the tennis and the netball world cup is taking place. What a summer of sport. Much as I love cricket I'm not really very interested in the one day game. I don't follow tennis. And know nothing about netball. But it all adds to the summer fun.

Waking early after a night of broken sleep I felt quite edgy. I was at the butcher before 10 am and back from shopping by 11.15. Not quite what I planned. With time on my hands after lunch I took a drive in the country. Stopped for a pint at The Horns and sat in the garden with a pint of ale from the Oakham brewery. Very pleasant.

If you have been reading this week you may well be wondering how my return to teaching went. Much to my surprise anxiety stayed pretty much at bay. It rose in the morning but when I went in I felt more under control than I have for a long time. And I triumphed. Yes there was a laudable but naive objection from one of the 83 delegates who were there. But with help from another academic we overcame that.

Coming away with the words, brilliant, excellent and awesome ringing in my ears the danger was mania. The objection tempered any return of mania. I dwelt too much on what went wrong but I made it through without overwhelming anxiety, without too much of a sense of failure and without a scary swing of mood either way. I guess I ought to settle for that.

In my foolishness and slightly inebriated mood last night I invited not only Sarah but also Gary and Ali to lunch tomorrow. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Will I regret that in the morning? I hope I get more sleep but I'm afraid for the waking. In the end it always pans out but oh to live without that fear that invitations bring.

Enjoy your weekend.

I Heard a Voice.

Entering the Arena.

The eroding of my self confidence and huge rise in anxiety levels dated very much from 2014. A new way forward did not run smoothly. In 2015 it got a lot worse and was noticeable in many aspects of my working life.

Having spent too many angry and at times manic years extolling my own virtue and power all came crashing down in that terrible decent into darkness 18 months ago. I'm not there now but I'm still working to regain my power.

Although I am a failed teacher my lectures and training sessions since about 2008 have always been well received, at times applauded, and erroneously revered. Yet as my confidence failed and my anxiety rose it became increasingly difficult to do that. Yes feedback was always good but the terror that built up in me led me to abandon that part of my life. Once I loved teaching, now I fear it.

When I returned to work last summer they asked if I wanted to do more teaching and training. Terror filled me so we didn't do it. But I knew one day I would have to return to it.

Tomorrow is that day. Once more I enter into the arena not I hope for a gladiatorial contest but for a frank and open discussion about mental health and universities. As I have mentioned before it is a hot political issue and one that an increasing number of young people identify with. The key though is how do we fight through misinformation and lack of engagement to find a way forward?

There has been an increasing trend to classify, quantify and processize something that I do not believe can work like that. All my years of living with mental illness, all my years of working with mental illness, and all my years of talking about mental illness I've never actually seen a system that works universally. In Charon's Ferry I talk about the tripos of the system, the people and the money. That will not change, we just tinker with different systems, new trends in people and not enough money.

Given what has happened since 2015 I think I should be more scared of tomorrow than I am. I know I have done it before and I know I'm good at it. But after such a break who knows, maybe I'll report back tomorrow.

For now I have Verdi's Falstaff  and a book to keep me going. Perhaps it's also time for a beer.

I Heard a Voice.

Sadly Parting.

I'm always pleased to hear from old friends. Some are regular, some are sporadic and some only occasional. So I was delighted to hear from my friend Elin last weekend when I was down at dad's. The message simply said "are you free next Friday?". I was and after work we arranged to meet initially in The Red Lion before a late switch of venue.

Elin was one of my students. Over the course of a couple of years I taught her some things about living with mental illness. Through her own efforts she overcame the odds and got her degree last year. Back in the autumn she raved about what I had done for her on local radio. It was far more than I deserved. It was what ignited the mania switch after a five year gap and for a few days I soared. I had to hit the brakes but it was brilliant.

On a late sunny afternoon yesterday we met for a beer. I just thought it was one of our rare meetings. Sadly it was not. She is leaving the country. I'm delighted for her but walked away feeling sad. I do not think we will meet again. The nature of my life is that people come for a few years, graduate and leave. Some stay in touch and that is always nice. But eventually they move on.

The transient nature of my life and work is thus. Hard at times. I never settle in a place or relationship. Elin said something wise when we were talking about commitment, "maybe you need to commit to yourself". Perhaps I do but having had my life, career and education trashed by eminent psychiatrists it is very hard to believe in myself except when the mania comes.

On a humid Saturday afternoon Maria Callas has just come on the radio, I have done my housework and shopping and am wondering what to do next. Maybe just be, be at peace.

Later brings monkfish and some wine I think. Tomorrow roast chicken. Enjoy your weekend.

I Heard a Voice.