Asking Too Much.

There is a week to go before I get a break. Then and only then will I be able to switch off. A short but very difficult week has left me tired and on edge. I struggled to get out of bed despite waking up very late. Everything has been an effort today. But at almost 4 pm on a cold, wet and miserable day here in Hertfordshire I'm still standing.

My strange route into my line of work is well documented. Once upon a time it was just like talking to friends. Now nearly twenty years later at times I feel old and jaded. I hope I do it for the right reasons. True I long ago acknowledged that I cannot change the world. I am not always compassion enough. And I find it extremely hard when people are hostile. Through that though I must persevere.

This week I was faced with hostility and blame for failure. I do not study for students. I cannot do their placements for them. I cannot magic away their problems. Sometimes too much is asked of me and that hurts.

Tomorrow I will pick up further hostility and blame and it makes me feel shit about myself. I'm acutely aware that the mental health system is flawed. Be it in the NHS or the world of universities we can never always get it right. Or deliver what people want. Not getting the answer one wants does not necessarily equate to not being supported.

Back in the 1990s when my illness was at its height and I was angry and broken young man I expected far too much of those around me. It felt as if the world was against me and nothing went right. Years of exasperation started to change when I realised I had to change my life. And changing my life was fucking hard. The battle of the last thirty years of my life has been exactly that at times. A battle. 

The way I feel today I do not want to go into battle tomorrow. An alarm going off in the morning will immediately stimulate a sharp spike in my anxiety. That will hurt. But I've been there before and coped. So I can do it again.

Now I will leave you with thoughts of Puccini opera, roast beef and an evening of NFL action. See you all soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Washed Away in the Rain.

The rain has been pouring down here all day. It is cold, it is dark and it is miserable. The week for me has been washed away in a deluge of exhaustion, stress and worry. I do not know what is wrong with my but since Monday I have felt completely drained of any energy, any motivation and any drive. I've been home all week.

There has occasionally been a venture out into the cold wet world. Today I was out for a while but the return left me empty and tired.

Some good news though that my medication has finally been sorted out. That was an experience I never want to go through again. It made me angry at times but that anger has been assuaged now. It passes into history although no doubt the anxiety will rise next time. I have managed to secure a telephone appointment with my GP in a couple of weeks. Not spoken to him for nearly three years.

As ever when I'm off guilt lurks in my mind. That I'm a fake, a fraud and a bullshitter. That I'm letting my colleagues down. That is probably just me, some have been in touch and wished me well. Not long remains to this term, the university closes two weeks tomorrow.

Given current circumstances I very much doubt I will get to Kent for Christmas. There is no travel there at present and even if a review lowers the tier I really don't think it will be in time to travel. The travel itself is likely to be horrendous, blocked roads and packed trains. I learned today that King's Cross the station through which I travel is closing for Christmas. Not sure on the dates but I'm more or less resigned to spending Christmas on my own.

I doubt I will do much for the rest of today. Better to stay in the warm. If you are out and about please stay safe.

I Heard a Voice. 

Gratuitous Blows.

In the many years I have battled mental illness both in myself and those I support it has become abundantly clear that whatever the label one is given (and I've had many) what makes it far worse is associated anxiety. Matt Haig put it brilliantly in his book Reasons to Stay Alive "adding anxiety to depression is like giving cocaine to an alcoholic". It devastates lives.

Like my mum before me the older I get the more anxiety comes at the drop of a hat. Such tiny things can destroy the day, take away precious sleep and make me vulnerable to a slump in mood.

Of course no one can completely take anxiety and stress out of his or her life. Some thrive on it. My reputation as a practitioner is universally of someone who always stays calm. All the GPs, psychiatrists and other colleagues at HPFT say the same thing but it is so much easier to do when dealing with others than with myself. Calm though I may be at work, I am not calm at home.

Having had a beautiful long weekend where I was relaxed and refreshed I woke on Monday morning feeling absolutely wiped out. No idea what is happening with me. The physical symptoms are hard to define other than a sense of being worn out and wanting to sleep all day. Sure I have taken a couple of days off and no doubt will feel better in time. What I didn't need was the type of gratuitous hammer blow of running out of medication.

My faith in the pharmacy by my flat was dented in August when I was going away and a bank holiday was looming. Not wanting to run out I placed my order early. They simply refused to do it and we ran really close to running out.

Now I'm not allowed to put it in early I left it until the Friday before last. Last Friday I went in to collect but no medication. As so often happens the pharmacy blames the GP and the GP blames the pharmacist. A late flurry of calls and I was promised a prescription that day.

Yesterday no medication either. Each blamed the other again. Well in a news flash I don't really care whose fault it is I just want my medication. More calls and I have been promised medication today.

I acknowledge mistakes happen. God I make enough myself. But when feeling vulnerable and shit I really don't need this shit.

At 5.30 I will go back and see if the promise is fulfilled. If not then for the first time in nearly 30 years I will have run out of medication. I hate to think what that will look like.

Take care out there and don't allow anxiety to shake your self belief, shatter your confidence and precipitate something out of control.

I Heard a Voice. 

A Rare Calm.

Hello on a Saturday night. You will not often find me on here then but here I am. It has been a dank, cold and overcast day here but I'm in good spirits. That's what taking a few days off does for the soul. And for once I have felt serenely calm during my time away. That has to be a good thing.

With all the lockdown stuff I had some left over holiday for last academic year so as it was Thanksgiving on Thursday I decided to take a two day break from reality. And it has really worked. Sublime roast turkey and the NFL, fine wine and lots of sleep have really righted the ship.

Of course it has gone much more quickly than I would have hoped but any break from the mental chaos is a good thing.

My kitchen has been busy. From Thanksgiving turkey to Turkish liver wraps seasoned with cumin, Aleppo pepper and oregano, pan fried mackerel fillet dusted in gram flour, sumac and cumin with pomegranate seeds and molasses dressing to beef bourguignon. I have mainly triumphed. Tomorrow my old friend roast belly pork. It is great to celebrate freedom.

As Handel opera plays I'm supping some very ordinary French red wine and doing some reading. Not had a lot of chance recently given the NFL commitments.

Away from my little world we come out of lockdown on Wednesday to a very changed freedom. In fact many will have none at all including dad. As things stand I will not be driving down for my annual Christmas break. The restrictions are too great. So I must prepare for my first Christmas at home for nine years. Of course I can triumph but I will miss dad and all my friends. Will this vaccine save the day next year? We can but hope so.

That is all beyond my control though. So I will leave you to your evening and return to my wine. Stay safe everyone.

I Heard a Voice.

Release From Prison.

A little under a week has now gone by since I was released into an autumn night. Never before have I valued freedom as much as this. Being shut in for nine days created a mental downturn different to any of my many hell holes I've been in. Not depressed just desolate. On some days I could barely drag myself out of bed. I figured though that it is better to have something rather than nothing. True my work capacity was impaired but I got through those days.

When freedom came at midnight last Thursday I walked out into the night simply because I could. There was no one on the street. A couple of police cars drove past, and a pair of civilian cars. Nothing stirred beside that. And it was wondrous.

On Saturday as the rain poured down I went out and embraced the day. I got wet and muddy but somehow to be enveloped in rain gave an amazing sense of wellbeing and freedom. Not all people in this world are free. I learned a lot of what the world must be like for many. And it wasn't pretty.

Now it is opera night and I reflect. Mozart plays, I cook and I read. My kitchen adventures have had mixed results. I overcooked the extremely expensive rib of beef I bought to celebrate my freedom. Yet it tasted wonderful. To Thailand and China I have been and today to Turkey. A dish called Kapuska, a revelation! Spiced cabbage with minced lamb and tomato topped with Aleppo pepper and parsley served with warmed pitta.

Thus far the working week has gone mainly to plan. No confrontation. No arguments, No aggression. Long may that last.

Tomorrow I go to campus and Jess will do her thing, blitzing through my flat like a whirling Dervish and order will be restored. The weekend is not far off. I have a short week after that as I'm taking a couple of days off for Thanksgiving. Roast turkey, roast potatoes, sprouts, carrots, cabbage, gravy and cranberry sauce. For all my American friends on here not sure how genuine my attempt will be but I will enjoy it.

Maybe see you all at the weekend.

I Heard a Voice.

Inglorious Isolation and Devastating Loneliness.

Is there anything so bleak as being locked in with no visitors, nowhere to walk and only one's own thoughts? There probably is, I've never been in a war zone, lost a child or been the victim of a serious crime. Yet seven days into this enforced incarceration I'm not doing great. My therapist said this afternoon it must be like solitary confinement. And that is exactly right. So lonely.

My thoughts have drifted to people in prison, to those forced for months to stay indoors for health reasons and the many of my own people who have been locked up in psychiatric hospitals. And I too have been there as you will recall. The devastating loneliness, the despair and tragedy of my loss at leaving Cambridge in 1991 is what led me to that dark place. And now it feels like that again.

I cannot fault the many who have come to me in the last week. From the zoom call with my friend Harsarup on Saturday to the endless calls. The messages of support on social media to Francois and Bronwen bringing me some Rioja. My neighbour Richard buying coffee to my other neighbour Vanessa arriving with kitchen towel and cheese. Cheese so wonderous to behold. And my kind friend Kevin sending me a lovely card and present...thanks Kevin, I will buy the finest bottle of wine I can find!

Somehow some way I have made it to just over 24 hours to go before the prison gate is flung open and I can breathe the air, feel the cold and get wrapped in the rain. Any real sensation after this will be welcome. Assuming I can get out of bed in the morning, I almost didn't today, I will try to work. People from there have also been terribly kind. It reminds me that when the bullets are flying and everyone is panicking that we would all feel much better if we are kind to each other.

Adversity can bring out the best in people. I'm not sure you have seen my best but I will get there. For now though it is Puccini, a glass of Picpoul de Pinet and a book. It all helps.

When I next speak to you I will be free. And I will value that freedom far more than I ever have before.

I Heard a Voice. 

Locked In.

Four years ago I penned a post on here to mark the victory of Mr Trump in the US election. Not because I particularly like him. Nor do I like to make political comment on here. No more to plead for unity in that great country. He had a lot of healing to do in such a divided place.

Now on a gloomy November Sunday afternoon we have another president elect. The years of chaos, disruption, arrogance and world shaking egotistical politics will have finally come to an end. USA, you have a lot of healing to do but please remember democracy is not the right of every man and woman in this fractious world. We are privileged enough to have that right. And Mr Trump says he has been cheated. Maybe he knows something I don't but that is the result and much of the world has breathed a huge sigh of relief. Mr Biden has a huge task but good luck to him and to the American people.

Back here in my small part of the world not all is going to plan. True I had a week without incident or conflict. However as I was coming home from the pub on Wednesday just as the country was shutting down again my covid app bleeped and ordered me to stay indoors until next Friday.

Here on day four of my house arrest I'm really feeling it. My outlook is as bleak and grey as the sky outside. The instructions on the app tell me I'm only allowed to exercise in my garden. Sadly I have no garden and the balcony is small. So nowhere to go.

As ever though my friends have been extraordinary. People calling, messaging, texting and zooming. And they have shopped for me. There should be a delivery of Rioja this afternoon.

The last time I was locked up like this was in an old asylum in the summer of 1991 after my breakdown. Shit though my world looks today it is nowhere near as terrifying at that desolate summer all those years ago.

I have my opera, I have my books, I have my kitchen. And I have wine. Day by day I will crawl towards salvation on Friday. It seems a long way off today. But I will get there intact.

Until next time.

I Heard a Voice.