The skies have turned grey, the air is cooler and Puccini plays. Sunday afternoon on an edgy, listless weekend. A week full of travel wore me out. Then the paranoia set in.
Forever worried and anxious being spied on from I know not where is very unnerving. The devil may have gone at least for the time being but I'm fearful of who trust.
That is the nasty part of my mental state. But I have my kitchen, my opera and my books. A duck leg and potatoes just went in to roast. Not had roast duck for several months. The devil once joined me for roast duck. Maybe been the last time I roasted duck.
Tomorrow summer starts, I go back to my office and remember a profound, beautiful but doomed meeting four years ago. That changed so much in my life. It is fodder for my therapy sessions. They remain brutally hard. A nurse on the ward in 1994 said to me "it will get worse before it gets better". I wasn't expecting that 32 years later I'm still at times in the grip of a mental health vice.
Away from my little world life looks uncertain, unstable and unsafe. Why do we do all this to ourselves? Intent on destruction. I fear for the world.
I Heard a Voice.
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