Edgy Days of Autumn.

On a grey and cold Sunday of autumn I'm very much on edge. Plagued for years by bad dreams things did improve when I stopped smoking in 2014. This morning they took their vengeance. Four one after another took a big toll and drove me out of bed. I haven't settled yet.

Mentally I've struggled since Friday. Another anniversary to get through and I didn't cope well. In fact I haven't coped well in the last few days.

I've attracted many psychiatric labels over the years few of which were helpful and some downright hurtful and damaging. The word anxiety was first written down in my notes in 2018. It was not revealed to me until 2022. That is 32 years after my illness began in this form. Why did it take so long?

That I've always been anxious has been noticed by some over the years. It fits given how I struggle with small everyday things. Nothing is done without fear in my world. 

In May though an explanation of sorts came to light. The word trauma was used for the first time by a mental health professional. That is potentially game changing. Not only that but her deliberation said not 35 years but 55. Yes, a lifetime. 

I will not get any more light on that revelation until next year. Yes the waiting list is that long. But I'm prepared to be patient. 

In the meantime I focus on my slow return to work. My music. My books. And my cooking. On a difficult day I'm doing the last three. Mozart plays, a rolled breast of turkey with sage and thyme wrapped in bacon is in the oven, and my book is beside me. Simple pleasures on a challenging day. 

I Heard a Voice. 

A Leap of Faith.

Sunday morning once again. Opera plays, my book is beside me and I have a rib of beef to cook for my lunch. 

I'm not sure why I haven't posted for a while. There's certainly been a lot going on. Last week I took a leap of faith and began my phased return to work. A mixed experience to be honest but I stuck to it.

The wider world seems also to be taking a leap of faith into right wing politics. And that it seems includes assassination. I must admit I'd never heard of Charlie Kirk. From what I have heard I'm not sure I would have liked his views. But to be shot is not an answer. 

In my country there are St George's flags everywhere and a huge rally took place last weekend. Reports conflict wildly on how many were there and what the atmosphere was like. Having once got caught up in an EDL march the potential is there for risk.

From a democratic perspective the lurch to the right is obvious. Sadly the last time a surge to the right happened in Europe carnage and genocide ensued.

That genocide is abroad once again is terrifying. A friend said recently "I'm not on anyone's side I just wish people would stop killing each other".

The world scares me in ways I've not experienced before. We must take care.

I Heard a Voice. 

Up at Dawn.

There is no earthly reason why I should be up so early on a September morning but I am. Dreams, the bane of my life. But I did get to see the dawn.

You find me up listening to Mozart's Cosi fan Tutti and drinking coffee. It's hard to assess my mental state. Anxiety still hits hard most days. My appetite is poor. And I'm still struggling to remain asleep. 

In the week a bombshell landed in my lap. It is work related so can say little on here at this stage. But it involves change. Big change. What I must do is embrace that and thrive with it. All parties are optimistic it will allow me to focus on my strengths.

I'm speaking to occupational health on Tuesday and with luck go back the following week. 

Back at home I went on a road trip with some friends yesterday. In glorious sunshine we supped ale in the garden of The Brocket Arms. Set deep in the woods it dates from the 14th century. So nice to be somewhere different. 

On the culinary world there will be roast shoulder of lamb for lunch today. Going in the oven at 10.30 I aim to eat at 1.30.

Happy Sunday all.

I Heard a Voice.