The Cloak of Darkness.

Night is falling enveloping my land in a veil of darkness. It's been a filthy day here. Cold, wet, sleet and snow. Waking late I struggled to get out of bed and motivate myself to do anything. But I got up, did some cleaning, did the washing, took the rubbish and recycling out and made myself a nice halloumi and grape salad with oregano and lemon juice for my lunch. Then mid afternoon I made a rendang paste.

Now my flat has the wondrous aroma of beef rendang, the clothes are clean, the bathroom is more useable and I'm in for the night. I did a little reading after all that housework. Had a couple of glasses of Picpoul de Pinet. And listening to Classic FM.

Days like today are not good but being indoors in the warm is preferable to getting soaked and frozen outside. Now I just have to decide what to do after my rendang. The choices are the opera Faust on Radio 3, some NFL action from two weeks ago, a film or just watch cooking programmes. Not bad choices.

Another working week is done. Thursday was pretty bruising, once again faced with angry and aggressive students I was not at my best but I did what I could. I'm trying to remain philosophical about work. Some days are good and some days are bad. But I keep going.

The news on the lockdown does not feel great. They are now saying pubs and restaurants may not be open until May. Great for my finances but that is a long time for me to get back to my favourite past times. People keep telling me how resilient I am. Today feels okay but what about three weeks? Six weeks? Two months? Entirely alone that is a hard ask.

To get through though I must take it a step at a time, I must read, I must cook, and I must listen to my opera. These are my solitary pleasures in life.

Until next time, take care.

I Heard a Voice.

Enveloped in Snow.

The savage beauty of winter has descended. The woods over the road are blanketed by a thick layer of snow. It's been coming down pretty much since I got up. Much as I love the winter landscape with its dazzling whiteness I'm not a fan of going out in it. So on this January Sunday I'm staying very much indoors.

Puccini opened my opera account and accompanied a wonderful zoom catch up with my friends Kym and Peter. Whenever I see her I wonder what might have been. The uncertainty and paranoia I face at times would not have been there had she not made a big decision a few years ago. It was the right decision for her but the wrong decision for me. And so we have come to my working world. 

Tomorrow is the day I dread more than any other. The pointless appraisal. Not had one for several years. Who knows what tomorrow's will bring but I do know that all previous experiences have been hideous which served to knock my confidence, dent my fragile resilience and make me feel even more that I can trust no one.

Fortunately we haven't got to 4 pm on Monday yet. Today is opera, reading and cooking day. The sublime Tosca has given way to the equally sublime Marriage of Figaro. I have read the paper. My chicken is out coming to room temperature before going in the oven at 4 pm.

On balance it has been a pretty good weekend. I've spoken to a lot of people on the phone. I didn't perhaps achieve as much around the flat as I'd hoped but so be it. There is always another day.

Tonight brings the NFL conference championship games. I don't really mind who wins as long as it's not Tom Brady yet again. I thought after last year he was finished. But he has fought on at age 43. Some achievement despite to disdain for him.

My trip to Miriam's for the Super Bowl is of course off this year. I remain alone and isolated but I'm holding my own. Whilst many have support bubbles I do not. Most people I know are already linked in with family. Those who are not are vulnerable so I simply don't want to risk meeting them. So on I plod.

Enjoy your Sunday everyone.

I Heard a Voice.

Another Year, Another Birthday.

Can it really be that nine years have gone by?  On this grey, overcast but fairly mild day mum would have turned 89. Time speeds up as we get older. I well recall her final birthday. We all went out for dinner, we were all terrified by dad's driving, and we all had a good time. I was slimmer, less grey, had more hair and was living in another flat. I ate T bone steak, indulged and lived on for a couple more months with her about. She died two months later, suddenly, unexpectedly but ultimately at the right time.

The last years of her life were wracked with joint pain, depression, chronic anxiety and dementia. I do not want to think about what might have happened had she not gone swimming in the sea that day, had not had a heart attack and would not have drowned. Life in a care home would have been awful for her. And that was what would have happened sooner or later.

That my relationship with her was troubled is well documented. She was troubled, combative and hostile at times. But on her birthday I prefer to remember how she was volunteering at St Peter's School in Folkestone teaching the kids to read and generally amazing people with her stories.

A great regret for me is that at the end of her life she felt she had achieved nothing. The two great passions of her life were her Christian faith and her fierce and determined fight to raise the rights of women. Even today the Anglo Catholic church is not as accepting of women as a Christian church should be. A lack of tolerance plagued the church of England for many years.

Coming to the university as I did in 2007 I learned so much about the fight for equality. Yes I knew my world, the world of mental illness. But not of the other strands of the agenda.

My world has evolved over the thirty years I have battled for my cause. We're not there yet but we are getting to a better place. The writings I put on here do I hope help. Likewise my occasional social media posts on mental health.

Mum would rarely accept that she was wrong. She wouldn't accept early in my life how troubled she was by her mental health. When I had my breakdown she told me she knew she didn't really. She knew her experience not mine. But who can fault her for that?

I have tried hard in the last thirty years to acknowledge where my peers are. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail. People have said to me over the years "remember she is ill too". Too late in her life did I recognise that.

On the 28th March we will once again mark her passing. I will listen to requiems, Miriam will reflect, and dad I suspect will risk the bus to visit her memorial at the crematorium. But that can wait. For today would have been her birthday. Happy birthday mum.

I Heard a Voice. 

Ever More Perceptible.

The sun is trying very hard on a cold day to put in an appearance. Slowly but surely the days are getting lighter. Ever more perceptible my walks are lighter. Today I did my medium 20 minute walk. Had a brief chat with Gary and Ali on their balcony when I went by.

You find me a week on from my challenged post. It was a better week although as ever there were things I missed that I meant to do. I'm no longer going to campus on a Thursday. That's a relief to be honest. I am much more fearful of catching the virus than I was in March. No longer risking walking with others. So my lonely sojourn goes on.

Whilst many of my friends are in support bubbles I am alone. My friends keep commenting on how resilient I have been in these dark days. It is hard but what choice do I have? I'm not confining myself to bed. Yesterday I didn't want to get out of bed and had zero motivation. Yet heeding my own advice that doing something is better than doing nothing I got up and I did. And I did quite a lot. Pleased with that.

Away from my little world the wider planet looks on at events in the USA. I could not believe the carnage of a couple of weeks ago. I have valued democracy highly as I have right to vote. For many there is no right so to do. I wish my friends over the sea to have a safe and constructive and reconciliatory transfer of power.

As the late fades on this Sunday I'm listening to Purcell opera and loving the aromas of garlic, thyme and rosemary from my slowly roasting lamb. Another evening of NFL playoff games awaits. Sad to see the Rams lose last night but so be it. Another year beckons and another chance presents itself.

Enjoy your Sunday everyone.

I Heard a Voice.

Reflection of Failure.

The fog hasn't lifted all day. The sun was out earlier and I had a short venture out. Now it is just cold and murky. You find me today feeling pretty battered and bruised. Not physically but mentally. The week had mainly gone well but I knew I'd be staring into the mirror of failure late yesterday afternoon.

Sure enough the mirror showed and I did not like the reflection I saw. All I saw was the failure of both past and present. I gambled everything I had more than twenty years ago to become a teacher. Ultimately that was a journey that didn't work out. Maybe it was the wrong journey. Maybe I wasn't ready. Maybe I wasn't good enough. Or just maybe my long history of mental illness made it impossible.

Now nearly twenty years into a career in mental health I'm still flawed, scarred, scared and anxious. People heap praise on me from time to time. Apparently some are inspired by me. Many say they owe their lives to me. But it never seems to be enough.

Long ago I knew an emotional kicking from my own side would come. People talk of resilience but sometimes that is not enough. My emotional armour has chinks. And I'm only too aware of them.

What I have tried to do all these years is teach people not to make the same mistakes I did. That old adage of if only I'd known then what I know now is so very true. As I reflect on who I was at times I'm repulsed. It doesn't matter that everyone tells me how far I've come and how much I have achieved. In the dark moments when I fail it is hard to keep hold of that.

Last night was tough going. Today still feels raw. I must engage that resilience that people tell me I have. So doing a little bit at a time I've clawed my way back.

Ahead lies stir fried prawns with chilli and basil, the Rams playoff game tonight, a few glasses of wine and then glorious roast beef tomorrow.

Take care out there my friends.

I Heard a Voice.  

Starting Again.

On a cold and overcast Sunday afternoon I come to talk to you all once again. I say all but not many are reading. My last post was somewhat gloomy but given the last year it was hard for it to be anything else.

Now I begin 2021 with a first post. Starting again another year doesn't seem possible. Last year flew by. That of course happens when we get older. As is my wont on a Sunday opera has dominated the day. Mozart first and now Puccini. Will this be the year I can return to watch live opera with Jayne, Miriam and Nigel? I do hope so.

A fine backdrop to the last Sunday before going back to work but in truth I've not been feeling great much of the day. Stomach upset is not welcome at any time but at a weekend it is especially horrible. I feel better than I did but it will limit me today.

I have to eat though even if I'm not great. A fig and Iberico jamon salad with almonds and a honey and balsamic dressing was a pretty good lunch. And tonight there is roast pheasant. Doubt I will eat much as my appetite is somewhat curtailed.

All good there but my mind is turning to work once again. An hour or so before bed my mind kicked into work mode. To all the loose ends. To the difficult tasks ahead. And to the unknown. Being away for two weeks leads inevitably to a mountain of e mails. As soon as I switch on in the morning my stress levels will rise. I will start to think and overthink. And I will start the countdown to the weekend.

Work plays a huge part in most people's lives. But it is not always easy. I must stick my adage of a day at a time and a task at a time.

I miss going out to eat. I miss a pint on a Sunday afternoon. I miss my friends. One day these people and things will come back into my life. The question is how long? The figures on infections and deaths keep going up. All I have ever been able to do is follow the guidance. And that I will do however crazy things seem.

Stay safe out there and I'll be back soon.

I Heard a Voice.