Sunshine and Showers.

A couple of weeks have gone by since my last post. I was in a dark place then. It would seem that the virus doing the rounds then had an unusual symptom that made people really depressed. A couple of friends reported the same thing. Whatever it was it was not nice. 

I'm feeling much better now. Last weekend I spent in Kent with my dad. Owing to train strikes I had to overcome my fear and drive. Actually both journeys went well. 

Last week I was on an online course. It was good and exhausting, validating and painful but I think worth it.

Now on a Saturday afternoon where the sun shines then it tips it down with rain. Spring in England. 

I'm cooking a Sumatran goat curry and listening to the radio. No big plans this weekend except the usual cooking. 

Bellini's opera Norma is on the radio this evening so thought I might have a listen. 

Today I am content in my little world. In a couple of weeks it will be Easter and I will take some time out. I realised in the week that I have had no stress free break since being between jobs in November 2021.

Yesterday marked an unpleasant anniversary and the reminder that I've been buffeted in a storm of other people's making for a year. Please let the coming weeks be calmer.

I Heard a Voice. 

Glimpsing the Devil.

For nine days I have battled what feels like covid but isn't. The fever, the headaches, the freezing cold and burning up, the cold symptoms and the throat that feels like it has been sand blasted. Yet worse than all of that the devastating depression. 

Tuesday and Saturday I was once again at the gates of hell which had unleashed its devilish demons. Utterly overwhelmed the old friend of all those years ago came to visit. All day yesterday I fought against it and somehow came through. 

I'm safe and today the gates are shut, the devil is nowhere to be seen and my false and deceiving friend called suicide has gone. 

So my war with mental illness goes on. 33 years in June it will have dogged me. But in all those years I have prevailed.

After a week away the thought of returning to work is daunting. All the old problems still there and many more emails. 

I need a break where I'm not hounded, surprised and harried by the unexpected. In truth I've not had a proper switch off and stress free break since that short time I had off when changing jobs.

Feeling better today I turn once again to the culinary arts. A courgette and nectarine salad with mojame, walnuts and a date molasses dressing for lunch and roast beef for dinner. Before that though I listen to Puccini and remember that after darkness there always comes light.

I Heard a Voice. 

Cold, Snowing and Defeated.

The snow has been coming down all day. I'm really cold. And still full of cold. Five days after waking exhausted and unwell not much has changed. The fever of Sunday night and Monday morning has gone. But I'm still gripped by fatigue, my throat is sore and up until today a strong headache. 

That was not the worst of it though. Yesterday my mood plummeted and the anxiety came in waves.

Funny how few have reached out to me. My friend Gary did on Sunday morning. I spoke to my friend Ella on Monday and Tuesday but that was when she was struggling. 

There was a message of note from my friend Katie. In the course of voice notes over the weekend she responded by noting the clear physical and mental decline in recent days.

I'm still at home although did get out for a couple of hours yesterday. Part of me thinks I should abandon the week and just sleep. But with that comes the guilt. 

It occurred to me yesterday that weeks of cold air and grey skies have taken a toll too. Please I want some sun and warmth. 

I will pull through though. Peter my former therapist has kindly offered a video call at 3 pm. He's a wise man and usually helps when we speak. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Summoning the Dead.

Twice in my life I have been felled by flu, once by covid. The last brought of flu which started when I was at a funeral on New Year's Eve 1998.  I hallucinated night and day for a week and lost 3/4 stone in weight and one of my mum's friends told me afterwards she thought I was going to die.

The first couple of days of covid were similar but it eased once the fever broke although it took 11 days to clear the virus. That was a year ago. 

On Saturday I was felled by what seems to be the latest virus going round  I cancelled my plans. Getting progressively worse I stayed home in the evening and went to bed.

What a terrible night, wave after wave of terrifying dreams, fever, sweating and freezing. After 11 hours I staggered out of bed.

That I seemed to summon the dead in those dreams was most unnerving. Mum featured. Many of the casualties of mental health journey appeared. And final one a car crash with my friend Ross driving and another car going on the wrong side of the road. 

I cancelled today, I'm shattered and took paracetamol.  Need another dose shortly. There seems not much optimistic about today. 

I did need to get on my laptop to check my diary for the rest of the week and to change 2 passwords to read a document. Needless to say neither worked and I'm stuck. Why is the online world so filled with such barriers? It has left me not only feeling rough but now anxious as well. 

Maybe tomorrow will be better? Going nowhere the rest of today. The only good thing is my covid test was negative. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Running Away.

It's a cold and grey Saturday afternoon. The day has not gone to plan. Originally I was going to take advantage of the trains actually running and go to China Town to meet Krishna. But waking late very tired and full of cold I couldn't face it.

Why do I run away from everything in my life? It all feels too frightening at the moment. I had been making strides with my CBT and was even brave enough to watch a band without feeling overwhelmed. They were brilliant and for the first time in my life I heard and enjoyed rap. Always hates it.

Today though I hit a wall. The stress of work continues to dog me at times but not today. 

That said I continue to do things piece by piece. I made it through the working week. I did food shopping, I made lunch and washed up. The washing is on. And the culinary adventures will resume. 

People often ask me when they learn of my passion for cooking what my signature dish is. If anything it is slow roast belly pork with fennel seeds and garlic. And that is on the menu tonight. 

Served with good bread, a fennel salad and a wine sauce. From Sam and Sam Clark's Moro Cookbook it is simply sublime. 

Tomorrow I have booked a table at The Waggoners for roast beef.

I Heard a Voice.