Less Than Happy Endings.

Is it really nearly over? Will the turbulence continue? Will I find a way forward? All vexing questions as I type my last post of 2020. Could any of us really known what was to come as we launched forth into a new decade and a new year exactly a year ago? Given that has been a century since a world wide pandemic we were all floundering in the dark of an optimism which now seems so misplaced.

Now I face New Year alone. I've been alone much of this year. I cannot see my friends. I cannot see my family. And I cannot see a clear way forward. My life is in turmoil at times, I cannot stop sleeping, and anxiety and guilt are riding roughshod over my world right now. I'm also in pain as my on going neck problem has decided to flare up again during the holiday.

So what to do on this lonely New Year's Eve? Well be decadent of course. The champagne is in the fridge. The comfort food of cottage pie is on the menu. The opera is on the radio. And I have all I need. All that is except the people.

Most years I ask myself where I will be come year's end. Now that seems so remote other than more anxiety, unhappiness and uncertainty. For reasons I singularly fail to understand many people look up to me, respect me and think I'm wise. The messages over the holiday bear testament to that. I'm always in demand when others are in trouble. Much to my surprise when I do reach out when I struggle people respond. But no one has a plan to get me out of where I am now. Least of all me.

Maybe come 2022 my world will be radically different. Brave decisions to be made but at this point I'm neither brave enough nor strong enough for radical shifts. We have to get through 2021 first.

Most will say tonight good riddance and swear it can't get any worse to and than 2020. Time will tell but I don't feel very optimistic.

However as I close out the year I wish you all the best, say Happy New Year, and may you all prosper and thrive in 2021.

I Heard a Voice.

Storm a Coming.

Well here we are on a grey but mild Boxing Day. My Christmas Day alone was mainly a triumph. A post lunch blip failed to mar a splendid solo effort. It is hard to see no one but in these chastened times I did okay. Spoke to loads of people during the course of the day and night. I consumed far too much food and way too much wine. But it is Christmas so why not?

Getting up this morning was a much harder effort. There seemed so little point with nothing to do, everywhere shut and still the restrictions. Bereft of motivation and energy it was supreme effort to get up. But get up I did, had coffee, a late lunch and walk.

Now home in the warm I'm listening to The Marriage of Figaro drinking the rest of my fizz. The air is still outside and it is mild. But driving in from the west a great Atlantic storm is approaching. For once it is going to unleash its fury on my part of the world. Most hit further north but it is our turn.

Certainly won't be going out again when it strikes. I have vague fears for the cladding on my balcony and for the tree by my car but what will be will be.

Before it hits though I must once again sate my hunger with a Thai curry. Bad planning really on my part, should really have given myself some cooking to do rather than just reheating from the freezer. Tomorrow I will cook though. Sunday roast has to be done. Two roasts in three days is so decadent but so what? It is the holidays.

I hope you all enjoyed Christmas and that in time we will have better life post virus. That still hangs over us. I doubt anything will open up again until February or March time so a long way to go. Stay safe in this troubled world.

I Heard a Voice 

Glimpsing the Sun and the Moon.

The last two Christmas Days I have watched the sun set over the sea with my family. Today as the sun wanes in the western sky I am alone, in my flat and listening to Beethoven. Just back from a walk I saw the sun and the moon. The year of tribulation, pestilence and death is nearing its close. That many like me are alone on this glorious day is testament to the destruction brought on by a little known virus. A year ago we heard whisperings of it from China. Now nothing from China but the world is crying out in the first world pandemic since 1918.

Back in March I wrote of not seeing the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and I have yet to see them. But we are all pretty battered and bruised.

The loneliness did not strike until I messed up my photo of the epic Christmas lunch I made. I post a lot of food porn and I was disappointed to let everyone down with an epic fuck up. Switch from video to photo might help. So a sub par picture went out and I'm a little despondent.

That said though lunch was delicious. I boxed some up for my neighbour Richard to collect and he seemed to appreciate it all.

Now as the light fades I reflect on what was, what might have been and what may be to come. The truth is none of us are certain of the immediate future. True vaccines are being rolled out, dad had his on Thursday, but we are all in the dark.

With little choice but to carry on I wish you a merry Christmas from my humble flat, good cheer for the New Year and enjoy all that indulgence. A glass of Chianti awaits now. And after my bath, cheese and Barolo. Still too fat to eat it yet.

I Heard a Voice.  

On the Cheap

People in my world have long suspected that doctors and the NHS too often make decisions on the basis of cost rather than need. How long did it take for SSRIs to the place of tricyclics? Why is venlafaxine prescribed as a weapon of last resort? And did the advent of atypical antipsychotics really need to be delayed so long to the many rather than the few?

During my MSc in Mental Health Practice I learned of the complex mathematical equations used to evaluate cost effectiveness and efficacy of drugs right across the piste. But I had never until last week been knowingly affected by this flawed and baseless practice.

Last Friday I spoke to my GP for the first time in nearly three years. Yes that is how hard it is to get an appointment. He wanted to talk to me about medication despite my consultant reviewing things every three months. Apparently the pharmacist who has caused me so many problems in the last few months has now suggested that I be switched to a cheaper alternative to my Trimipramine. Since when did a pharmacist make decisions about my care? Especially as they have never actually talked to me about what I take and why. I have long doubted the effectiveness of antidepressants but the key indicator for me of relapse is insomnia. And having tried everything on the market with little effect it is the only pill that gives me consistent sleep. I certainly wouldn't change that for the world. Maybe I shouldn't take it for sedation but I done really care.

I'm speaking to my consultant on 5th January and it will be an emphatic no on my part to any spurious suggestion of change on cost grounds.

This aside I'm doing okay. True I'm utterly alone and cannot see anyone for Christmas. I am a little anxious but my mood is holding. Nearly everything is ready for the subdued big day. I'm not at work. I spoke to my therapist today. And my lovely friend Karen. In these uncertain times I cannot ask for more than that. What is is.

Normally at this time and date I would be sat at the bar of The Butt of Sherry talking to dad and old friends. But it is not to be this year. I will make the most of what I have, cook up a multitude of feasts, consume wine and listen to opera. The odd walk is welcome, I'm just back from a rather dark and damp wander. And there is always our new found lockdown ways of communication. The Selwyn crew on Christmas Eve. Dad and Miriam on Christmas Day. And who knows who else.

I will be on here on the day to wish you all a merry Christmas. Until then take care.

I Heard a Voice.

Carols, Rainbows and Chianti.

The glorious sunlit morning I woke to gave way to sporadic clouds, broken drizzle and a rainbow as I ventured out into the world this afternoon. This December has been marred by the rapid spread of the pestilence, virtual house arrest and the cancellation of Christmas for many. Life looks bleak.

I cannot however succumb to the darkness. The term is finally over, I ate a wonderful slow roast lamb shank for lunch, I listened to Mozart and Puccini, and I drank Chianti. I walked in the glorious open air and saw a pale crescent moon. Now as the light fades I'm listening to Christmas carols and finishing the wine.

So what will become of me moving forward? In truth life seems even more uncertain than when I wrote a year ago. True change has come but it has not been good change. Who I am in 2021 may be defined by a tumultuous 2020. That I made it to the end of the year seems a miracle. Much did not feel good about the last year.

It is easy to say it can't get any worse but who knows? I have no plans moving forward other than trying to relax in the holiday, indulge, reflect, consume and take it a day at a time.

Opera, books, and culinary adventures will ensue. My therapy will continue. My friendships will flourish I hope. It will just be from a distance for the moment. Much hope is being placed in the various vaccines, I will certainly have them when my time is right. My dad I suspect will get his pretty quickly. Nigel too. When I get there I do not know. I may be many things but a fool is not one of them so why would I decline?

The rest of today will be passed with carols, NFL and a few beers. Stay safe in these uncertain times.

I Heard a Voice. 

Asking Too Much.

There is a week to go before I get a break. Then and only then will I be able to switch off. A short but very difficult week has left me tired and on edge. I struggled to get out of bed despite waking up very late. Everything has been an effort today. But at almost 4 pm on a cold, wet and miserable day here in Hertfordshire I'm still standing.

My strange route into my line of work is well documented. Once upon a time it was just like talking to friends. Now nearly twenty years later at times I feel old and jaded. I hope I do it for the right reasons. True I long ago acknowledged that I cannot change the world. I am not always compassion enough. And I find it extremely hard when people are hostile. Through that though I must persevere.

This week I was faced with hostility and blame for failure. I do not study for students. I cannot do their placements for them. I cannot magic away their problems. Sometimes too much is asked of me and that hurts.

Tomorrow I will pick up further hostility and blame and it makes me feel shit about myself. I'm acutely aware that the mental health system is flawed. Be it in the NHS or the world of universities we can never always get it right. Or deliver what people want. Not getting the answer one wants does not necessarily equate to not being supported.

Back in the 1990s when my illness was at its height and I was angry and broken young man I expected far too much of those around me. It felt as if the world was against me and nothing went right. Years of exasperation started to change when I realised I had to change my life. And changing my life was fucking hard. The battle of the last thirty years of my life has been exactly that at times. A battle. 

The way I feel today I do not want to go into battle tomorrow. An alarm going off in the morning will immediately stimulate a sharp spike in my anxiety. That will hurt. But I've been there before and coped. So I can do it again.

Now I will leave you with thoughts of Puccini opera, roast beef and an evening of NFL action. See you all soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Washed Away in the Rain.

The rain has been pouring down here all day. It is cold, it is dark and it is miserable. The week for me has been washed away in a deluge of exhaustion, stress and worry. I do not know what is wrong with my but since Monday I have felt completely drained of any energy, any motivation and any drive. I've been home all week.

There has occasionally been a venture out into the cold wet world. Today I was out for a while but the return left me empty and tired.

Some good news though that my medication has finally been sorted out. That was an experience I never want to go through again. It made me angry at times but that anger has been assuaged now. It passes into history although no doubt the anxiety will rise next time. I have managed to secure a telephone appointment with my GP in a couple of weeks. Not spoken to him for nearly three years.

As ever when I'm off guilt lurks in my mind. That I'm a fake, a fraud and a bullshitter. That I'm letting my colleagues down. That is probably just me, some have been in touch and wished me well. Not long remains to this term, the university closes two weeks tomorrow.

Given current circumstances I very much doubt I will get to Kent for Christmas. There is no travel there at present and even if a review lowers the tier I really don't think it will be in time to travel. The travel itself is likely to be horrendous, blocked roads and packed trains. I learned today that King's Cross the station through which I travel is closing for Christmas. Not sure on the dates but I'm more or less resigned to spending Christmas on my own.

I doubt I will do much for the rest of today. Better to stay in the warm. If you are out and about please stay safe.

I Heard a Voice. 

Gratuitous Blows.

In the many years I have battled mental illness both in myself and those I support it has become abundantly clear that whatever the label one is given (and I've had many) what makes it far worse is associated anxiety. Matt Haig put it brilliantly in his book Reasons to Stay Alive "adding anxiety to depression is like giving cocaine to an alcoholic". It devastates lives.

Like my mum before me the older I get the more anxiety comes at the drop of a hat. Such tiny things can destroy the day, take away precious sleep and make me vulnerable to a slump in mood.

Of course no one can completely take anxiety and stress out of his or her life. Some thrive on it. My reputation as a practitioner is universally of someone who always stays calm. All the GPs, psychiatrists and other colleagues at HPFT say the same thing but it is so much easier to do when dealing with others than with myself. Calm though I may be at work, I am not calm at home.

Having had a beautiful long weekend where I was relaxed and refreshed I woke on Monday morning feeling absolutely wiped out. No idea what is happening with me. The physical symptoms are hard to define other than a sense of being worn out and wanting to sleep all day. Sure I have taken a couple of days off and no doubt will feel better in time. What I didn't need was the type of gratuitous hammer blow of running out of medication.

My faith in the pharmacy by my flat was dented in August when I was going away and a bank holiday was looming. Not wanting to run out I placed my order early. They simply refused to do it and we ran really close to running out.

Now I'm not allowed to put it in early I left it until the Friday before last. Last Friday I went in to collect but no medication. As so often happens the pharmacy blames the GP and the GP blames the pharmacist. A late flurry of calls and I was promised a prescription that day.

Yesterday no medication either. Each blamed the other again. Well in a news flash I don't really care whose fault it is I just want my medication. More calls and I have been promised medication today.

I acknowledge mistakes happen. God I make enough myself. But when feeling vulnerable and shit I really don't need this shit.

At 5.30 I will go back and see if the promise is fulfilled. If not then for the first time in nearly 30 years I will have run out of medication. I hate to think what that will look like.

Take care out there and don't allow anxiety to shake your self belief, shatter your confidence and precipitate something out of control.

I Heard a Voice.