Pushing Back.

On this beautiful spring afternoon I'm listening to Stanford, cooking a Chinese goat stew and generally trying to switch off.

Finally this afternoon I took a step towards pushing back against the challenges and criticism that has become almost daily. Processes exist but I don't have a lot of optimism that it will work but I should have done this back in October when advised to do so.

I'm too trusting and too optimistic about change. Sadly some will never changed. It's hard feeling targeted but since October that's how I've felt. 

My psychiatrist asked me a couple of weeks ago if I was experiencing any paranoia. Whilst I don't think MI5 is trying to kill me or that a computer is controlling my mind I do feel there are moves going on intending to cause me damage. When I explained the context he rather agreed with me. Who wouldn't be?

Yet on this warm late Saturday afternoon I have done what I can. And it was the right thing to do.

Amidst all that my culinary adventures continue. Goat stew today, roast pork tomorrow. 

Let's hope the sunshine continues. 

I Heard a Voice. 

The Pages of Time.

What to say on this Sunday morning? The week has been one of tough reflection. Not easy with each day bringing yet more troubles.

Friday marked thirteen years since mum died. Today is Mother's Day. I've always struggled with that. Do I want to go back and look at the past?

My cousin Cedric always tells me to let go of the past. I think the past should let go of me.

The career that I worked so hard to get has been an emotional journey of highs and many lows. Currently lows are threatening to overwhelm me. But I will fight on.

The pages of time keep turning. Where next? At the moment I'm desperate for change for the present feels too painful. 

Picking out the good though Friday and Saturday were calm days as noted by others. Today less so as the dreams were bad.

Yesterday I went to Borough Market and had a lovely if expensive day. Great was the booty from that trip.

In the here and now I'm listening to Handel's The Choice of Hercules and about to cook roast chicken for lunch. My friend Gary is coming round. I'll take a nice lunch, good company and the sun shining for today's page in time.

I Heard a Voice. 

Toxic Comparisons.

One of the worst things I recall of a troubled, frightened childhood was constantly being compared to others and found wanting. My mum was the earliest protagonist in the debilitating, undermining and divisive destruction of my self confidence and self esteem. 

Then there was school where I vacilated between being a superstar...what mum wanted...and an out of control kid always in trouble. 

Now all these years after my breakdown people are staggered by the stories I tell and gaze in wonder at what I have achieved. Yet still the comparison goes on in my daily life at work and out of work.

My legacy of all that is when I have not done what I should at work, in my friendships and my daily life I always assume I'm the only one who is failing. 

It's only when I talk to others I realise they are struggling with the same things too. 

Mental health is massively exacerbated by isolation and feeling targeted. People say to me "why are you so hard on yourself?" Because that's all I know after years of expectation to be perfect. 

Since the autumn I have felt isolated, targeted and being told I'm to blame for things not going perfectly. If I seek perfection I, like everyone, will fail. Each time I succeed with something I'm told I did something else wrong. 

That does not lead to a healthy work, home and people environment. As a friend said during my 2018 crash stability is what matters. Life is made up of home, work and people. Instability in two is doable but in all three is impossible. At the moment I only have stability at home. Work and people are hard and not getting any easier. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Drizzly Sunday.

A day on there is no sign of the sun or spring. Drizzle falls outside my window. My mood is defeated and my lunch a disaster. Not a good day so far.

The saving grace though is Mozart and Chianti. I don't want to face the world today but I will.

The enormity of the last ten days is becoming clearer. Psychiatrist, work review, occupational health appointment, Red Kite, King's and its murky past is a lot to deal with in a short space of time. No wonder my emotional energy is at zero. 

What I must look at though is my wider life. My music. My books. My voice for change. My friends. And the good I have done by surviving nearly 35 years of mental illness. 

People listen to my words. Words have power whether used for good or ill. I try to do good. 

I share a trait with my amazing dad; that we never say no. At times it is our detriment. But we both do good a lot of the time. 

Tomorrow will come, and tomorrow I will get up and face the world. Get up, make my bed, open the window, wash, put my contact lenses in, brush my teeth, and go to work. That's what I do.

See you soon.

I Heard a Voice. 

Past the Equinox.

Greetings to an unseen audience. So few people are reading at the moment but then again I am not posting much. 

After a difficult few months the Equinox has brought spring. Are things getting any better for me? Not really but they've not got worse. My day of fate has been and gone and I'm still standing. 

Years ago when Risperidone changed my life it felt that getting a job would be the final piece of the puzzle. In fact it made life more complicated. 

I am controversial, outspoken, too honest but have the credibility to back it up. That doesn't always go down well with my superiors. I wouldn't want to manage me. Try as I might work to live I still really struggle to let go. I'm too invested in the world of mental health. 

Recently I completed re reading my two memoirs, A Pillar of Impotence and Charon's Ferry. They were far more emotive than when I last read them. My emotion is quite raw at the moment. 

They may get more so. Back in 2014 I wrote a post entitled Pandora's Box. In it I surmised that one day King's College Choir would be added to the last music schools where safeguarding did not exist. I became aware last week that the link has been made in public. 

The edifice is crumbling. When will it come crashing down? And what does that mean for me? For those who lived through it in the 1970s and 1980s? We all bare our scars and as one friend said in December "each year I heal a little more of the trauma". Some refuse to ever talk about the choir.

Survivors. But it is hard.

Today has been spent alone. I've been food shopping. Tonight there will be steamed snapper marinated in charmoula. Tomorrow roast rack of lamb. The cooking goes on. 

I Heard a Voice.

Drifting Towards Fate.

The days are ticking by on my journey. A date with fate is twelve days away. Am I anxious? Yes. My adventure of the last few years has not been easy. When there are clashes and power plays a huge part it is not a surprise that I'm struggling. 

Nothing has been easy since leaving the university in 2021. What my therapist described as "came changing" has been a rocky road. And I am still trying to take it one step at a time. 

I have no idea if I've done enough. That is the whim of those with power. What lies in store that day?

Back to today the sun is shining on a warm spring day. I'm listening to The Marriage of Figaro and have been reading. 

Shortly I will begin cooking roast beef for lunch. Even having a go at Yorkshire pudding. They don't usually work well in my oven.

After lunch I will watch the rugby in The Hedgehog with friends. 

Tomorrow can wait until tomorrow. Today I do today and try to thrive after a dream affected start to the day.

I Heard a Voice. 

Infernal Dreams.

Why am I so cursed with dark, anxious and at times horrific dreams? A day on from posting about finally achieving stability it has been swept away by such nightmares. It feels at times as if I'm I'm wrapped around with a heavy cloak of fear.

My most recent nightmare before today's was so bad it destroyed three days of my life. Not un-noticed a friend suggested I do EMDR work. I can access it for free. The older I get the more my trauma history is opening up. Some parts I have long acknowledged. Others have only been open for 18 months.

I've spent more than two decades opening Pandora's Box for others, catching the demons and helping people put them in a safe place. I failed with Charlotte and now she's out of my life.

Yet who catches my demons? And there are many to catch. At the funeral in December a friend said as each year passes he heals a little of his trauma. Remember each Christmas when you watch Carols From King's or listen to Nine Lessons and Carols it was not without a price.

Another King's reunion beckons in April. Last year was tough for me because the truth is close to coming. It was also the day Charlotte picked up my messages which a few weeks later led her to walk out of my life.

Yet on this sunny Sunday afternoon I have The Magic Flute, I have Elizabeth David and I have my kitchen. There are small mercies even in difficult, anxiety ridden times.

I Heard a Voice. 

A Spring Day.

For the first time since November I feel today I have some sort of stability. November was mainly a month of flying too high. Then the crash came that thrust me into a perpetual winter of darkness. 

On this first day of spring I'm in a good place as the sun shines out in the world. 

A lot went wrong for me during the winter. So many urged me to get signed off long term sick. Yet I didn't and somehow weathered the storm.

I'm listening to Mozart and reading. I have just finished re-reading Charon's Ferry my second published book. Going back over the two books in that dark winter provoked emotion I did not expect. There were tears at times.

As my small boat rests in calm waters and in harbour at least for today I feel good. 

In two weeks I will be seeing my old psychiatrist. I'm hoping they take me on as they should. Whether that is the outcome I will get I don't know. I need to be back in the system. In fact I should never have been discharged in the first place.

Shortly I'm making a rendang paste. There will be beef rendang for dinner.  I'm hoping my friend Danielle will be joining me to share it. Tomorrow there will be roast pheasant for lunch then a fiery Thai green papaya salad for supper. 

Enjoy the sun while it shines.

I Heard a Voice. 

Flat Mood, Zero Motivation.

One of the less talked about aspects of living with a mood disorder that encompasses depression is the impact on motivation. Low mood is talked of. Changes in appetite. Accompanying anxiety. Today my mood is flat and I have zero motivation. 

I woke up very late after ten hours of sleep. The terrible anxiety of recent days has lifted a little. The two day headache gone. Getting out of bed took supreme effort. Coffee a mountain to climb. Cooking lunch, beyond me. So today I'm stuck. 

The instability in my life goes on. At least home is stable. But that in itself is not enough. Some remain distant from me. Important people. Work is tough and even two days away has not made it easier. 

Next week is half term. Work from home and get some study done. I have a meeting with UEA on Wednesday. As things stand I'm not going to pass. After all the hours and all the effort it feels disconcerting that the prize is beyond my reach. 

But today I just have to get through today. That will take supreme effort. Yes it's that tough. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Cold, Tired and Overwhelmed.

They came back in the early hours of this morning. The nightmares. I'm actually surprised given the last few months that they didn't return before. 

I woke on edge, overwhelmed and frightened. Add another cold and grey day and I lasted all of 10 minutes before ending my working day.

The anxiety has abated somewhat. I managed to shop for food, make lunch and wash up and do the washing. On such a tough day that is enough. 

My outlook remains bleak, my mood is only just hanging on but until today I had held my own.

What happens next I don't know. I will face each day as best I can. Spring will come. Change will come. And I will pick up. Just seems a way to go until then.

So yet another cold and grey day I wish you. I want to hibernate but I won't. 

I Heard a Voice. 

A Mass of Contradictions.

On a bitterly cold Sunday morning with an icy hue across field and road you find me listening to Purcell. 

Life remains tense but just getting through one day at a time and one task at a time.

What makes it tough at the moment is those tasks change sometimes on an hourly basis and some are contradictory. Set me a target and I will strive to hit it. Make the target move I can get lost.

The world of mental health requires adaptability, patience and flexibility. I have survived more than two decades working and more than three decades living in that world. 

Life is hard going but I have my opera, my books, my kitchen, my food, and my wine. That helps. 

Talking of books I have just finished re-reading A Pillar of Impotence. Twenty years after completing the manuscript it remains a powerful but flawed narrative of what was. I was moved by the story more now than in 2013 when I last read it.

So on this beautiful sunny Sunday I will leave you. Have a good day.

I Heard a Voice. 

Bitter Cold but a Calm Mind.

A bitter cold has come across our land today. The icy greyness of recent days goes on.

I'm home in the warm listening to Mozart's Great Mass and about to read some more of my first book A Pillar of Impotence. Revisiting it 14 years after publication and 11 years since I last read it the brutal power of narrative remains. It's painful to read and remember but it stands as testament to a story of survival. 

After another difficult week it was good to get to the weekend. My friend Marie is here. She's just having a sleep after a big lunch. Waking late we went to Gareth's butcher then on to lunch at The Horns at Bull's Green. 

I got some marvellous produce. There will be roast topside of beef tomorrow. I have a jointed wild rabbit from a local country estate. And neck fillet of lamb. The rabbit and lamb are rarely available so buy when around. 

My conversations with an old friend who got in touch just before Christmas continue. We sang together around 35 years ago.

Tomorrow evening the Los Angeles Rams will march into Philadelphia to battle the Eagles in the divisional round of the NFL playoffs. Given the Rams dominance a week ago they will be feared.

Next week the world will change. Mr Trump will enter The White House for the second time and none of us really know what he will do. Will the world be more or less settled? Time will tell. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Colours on the Snowy Linen Land.

A frost, icy sheen has carpeted our land for days. It's freezing. But beautiful. The crunch under foot on the grass. The slippery pavement. And a cold that is bitter. 

The last week has been perhaps the most volatile I have ever had mentally. Hypomania, lows, rapid cycling, despair, rage, eruptions of anger, hopelessness, fear, paranoia. It's been tough. 

In truth I haven't been calm for more than a month. Until yesterday. 

Add in two events beyond my control and one can see why I struggled. My fear and distrust of dogs in widely known. So being attacked by my neighbour's dog as I opened the front door of the block of flats blew me away. This triggered an eruption of anger that scared the shit out of two friends. Then getting a call from the GP  surgery saying they are stopping my trimipramine absolutely threw me. I was in trouble. 

Yet yesterday I woke calm. My mood was neither up nor down. There was no fear, no anxiety, no paranoia. Just being. That is an unusual state for me. 

Despite very difficult dreams I am still calm today. I'm listening to Turandot. There is a half shoulder of lamb in the oven studded with garlic and rosemary. I'm making a conscious decision to drink less. Adding my passion for wine to a vulnerable and volatile mind made things worse. 

Will I go out into the snowy linen land and bring some colour? I don't know yet. What I do know is that I feel okay today in just being. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Melting Away With the Snow.

I've been home for just over a week. I've achieved very little in that time. Tomorrow I must return to work. 

Throughout my two week break work has never been far from my thoughts. And those thoughts have been filled with anxiety. God I hate anxiety. It cripples me at times, saps my energy and eats away at my self confidence. 

Am I where I was two years ago when I stared into the gates of hell? No but it has been really hard going. And very lonely. 

Yesterday two different people asked if I needed to increase my medication. I hadn't thought of that. Given how much it wipes me out when I do I will try to avoid that.

On this Sunday morning as the overnight snow melts the anxiety has dissipated a little. No intrusive anxious dreams waking me as has happened previously. That's a relief. 

When I have summoned the motivation and energy to get out of the slump I have been re-reading "A Pillar of Impotence". Alongside me a woman from my past is reading too. Twenty years after completing the manuscript and fourteen years since the publication of the paperback I'm getting an amazing commentary on what I wrote.

All seems a long time ago now.

I Heard a Voice.

New Year, New Plan?

Greetings on a miserable day here in Hertfordshire. Rain, wind but no floods here. 2025 has started on a damp note.

I got home on Saturday. I continue to struggle to switch off from work despite not going back until next week. There is a need for change and a new plan. 

The holiday hasn't been without good news. My friend Merit had a baby. And a woman from the past has come back into my life after 34 years. We have both been on a difficult journeys but I'm glad she's back in my life.

I had hoped to visit Jess this week but she is unwell. I have been lucky this autumn and winter, only caught one cold so far.

The party at The Hedgehog was pretty wild last night. I was home by 12.30 am, I don't cope so well with parties these days.

Happy New Year to you all.

I Heard a Voice.