Heat and Echoes of the Past.

I was musing with Sarah in the week on what friendship actually means. People say "you can count the number of true friends on the fingers of one hand". Just over a week ago I lost a friend of 15 years because she misinterpreted something I did. The wisdom of Sarah rightly pointed out "if she was a true friend she would have challenged you on it during a conversation not just told you to fuck off".

I struggle with self esteem and sense of self. Try as I might to use my knowledge of language to do good sometimes I get it wrong. My therapy sessions have a heavy dose of loss, endings and the actions of others.

The week that the devil addressed me directly three times has been very difficult. But hour by hour, day by day I got through. I have not opened the latest missives from her but the fact they were sent is really unsettling.

Back on a quiet but stifling hot Sunday morning I'm listening to Puccini, reading and roasting a chicken. A friend popped round to fix a small plumbing issue in my bathroom. Having spent most of yesterday seeing no one it was good to have a visitor.

Going back to friendship some years ago I was privileged to share a panel with the then CEO of MIND Paul Farmer at a mental health conference. His comment was interesting, "the problem with Facebook is it has redefined what a 'friend' is". Friendship is not a numbers game. What matters is authenticity. I know many many people but how many are there for me when I'm struggling? 48 hours of silence usually raises the alarm with my true friends. I must stop trying to be there for anyone especially if it is to my detriment. Devil go.

I Heard a Voice.

An Avalanche of Nightmares.

Two weeks have passed since my last post. I had hoped to post after therapy two Wednesdays ago but was too emotionally exhausted to do anything. But so much has happened.

I returned to my office for the first time in more than a year two Mondays ago. It felt alien, bewildering and overwhelming. Very similar to going back to campus after lockdown. But I did it.

My real emotion was being stunned by the welcome I received from people in health and education. The narrative has changed. They missed me and needed me. The struggles they had without me are getting clearer.

An exhausting experience set against the backdrop of therapy and the devil reappearing. That therapy is having an impact is clear from the avalanche of nightmares I've experienced recently. Really hard going at the moment but I will persevere.

As for the devil life is not looking good but I'm resisting the desire to reach out. You reap what you sow. No longer will I prop you up.

Lost another friend on Friday. Maybe I should cut myself off from people who drain me. As my friend Rebecca who is a therapist said to me yesterday do not keep giving when it is to your detriment.

Away from that though I listening to The Magic Flute and preparing lunch for a friend. Roast rib of beef and a bottle of Amerone. She's bringing the cheese.

Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.