Reflection of Failure.

The fog hasn't lifted all day. The sun was out earlier and I had a short venture out. Now it is just cold and murky. You find me today feeling pretty battered and bruised. Not physically but mentally. The week had mainly gone well but I knew I'd be staring into the mirror of failure late yesterday afternoon.

Sure enough the mirror showed and I did not like the reflection I saw. All I saw was the failure of both past and present. I gambled everything I had more than twenty years ago to become a teacher. Ultimately that was a journey that didn't work out. Maybe it was the wrong journey. Maybe I wasn't ready. Maybe I wasn't good enough. Or just maybe my long history of mental illness made it impossible.

Now nearly twenty years into a career in mental health I'm still flawed, scarred, scared and anxious. People heap praise on me from time to time. Apparently some are inspired by me. Many say they owe their lives to me. But it never seems to be enough.

Long ago I knew an emotional kicking from my own side would come. People talk of resilience but sometimes that is not enough. My emotional armour has chinks. And I'm only too aware of them.

What I have tried to do all these years is teach people not to make the same mistakes I did. That old adage of if only I'd known then what I know now is so very true. As I reflect on who I was at times I'm repulsed. It doesn't matter that everyone tells me how far I've come and how much I have achieved. In the dark moments when I fail it is hard to keep hold of that.

Last night was tough going. Today still feels raw. I must engage that resilience that people tell me I have. So doing a little bit at a time I've clawed my way back.

Ahead lies stir fried prawns with chilli and basil, the Rams playoff game tonight, a few glasses of wine and then glorious roast beef tomorrow.

Take care out there my friends.

I Heard a Voice.  

Starting Again.

On a cold and overcast Sunday afternoon I come to talk to you all once again. I say all but not many are reading. My last post was somewhat gloomy but given the last year it was hard for it to be anything else.

Now I begin 2021 with a first post. Starting again another year doesn't seem possible. Last year flew by. That of course happens when we get older. As is my wont on a Sunday opera has dominated the day. Mozart first and now Puccini. Will this be the year I can return to watch live opera with Jayne, Miriam and Nigel? I do hope so.

A fine backdrop to the last Sunday before going back to work but in truth I've not been feeling great much of the day. Stomach upset is not welcome at any time but at a weekend it is especially horrible. I feel better than I did but it will limit me today.

I have to eat though even if I'm not great. A fig and Iberico jamon salad with almonds and a honey and balsamic dressing was a pretty good lunch. And tonight there is roast pheasant. Doubt I will eat much as my appetite is somewhat curtailed.

All good there but my mind is turning to work once again. An hour or so before bed my mind kicked into work mode. To all the loose ends. To the difficult tasks ahead. And to the unknown. Being away for two weeks leads inevitably to a mountain of e mails. As soon as I switch on in the morning my stress levels will rise. I will start to think and overthink. And I will start the countdown to the weekend.

Work plays a huge part in most people's lives. But it is not always easy. I must stick my adage of a day at a time and a task at a time.

I miss going out to eat. I miss a pint on a Sunday afternoon. I miss my friends. One day these people and things will come back into my life. The question is how long? The figures on infections and deaths keep going up. All I have ever been able to do is follow the guidance. And that I will do however crazy things seem.

Stay safe out there and I'll be back soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Less Than Happy Endings.

Is it really nearly over? Will the turbulence continue? Will I find a way forward? All vexing questions as I type my last post of 2020. Could any of us really known what was to come as we launched forth into a new decade and a new year exactly a year ago? Given that has been a century since a world wide pandemic we were all floundering in the dark of an optimism which now seems so misplaced.

Now I face New Year alone. I've been alone much of this year. I cannot see my friends. I cannot see my family. And I cannot see a clear way forward. My life is in turmoil at times, I cannot stop sleeping, and anxiety and guilt are riding roughshod over my world right now. I'm also in pain as my on going neck problem has decided to flare up again during the holiday.

So what to do on this lonely New Year's Eve? Well be decadent of course. The champagne is in the fridge. The comfort food of cottage pie is on the menu. The opera is on the radio. And I have all I need. All that is except the people.

Most years I ask myself where I will be come year's end. Now that seems so remote other than more anxiety, unhappiness and uncertainty. For reasons I singularly fail to understand many people look up to me, respect me and think I'm wise. The messages over the holiday bear testament to that. I'm always in demand when others are in trouble. Much to my surprise when I do reach out when I struggle people respond. But no one has a plan to get me out of where I am now. Least of all me.

Maybe come 2022 my world will be radically different. Brave decisions to be made but at this point I'm neither brave enough nor strong enough for radical shifts. We have to get through 2021 first.

Most will say tonight good riddance and swear it can't get any worse to and than 2020. Time will tell but I don't feel very optimistic.

However as I close out the year I wish you all the best, say Happy New Year, and may you all prosper and thrive in 2021.

I Heard a Voice.

Storm a Coming.

Well here we are on a grey but mild Boxing Day. My Christmas Day alone was mainly a triumph. A post lunch blip failed to mar a splendid solo effort. It is hard to see no one but in these chastened times I did okay. Spoke to loads of people during the course of the day and night. I consumed far too much food and way too much wine. But it is Christmas so why not?

Getting up this morning was a much harder effort. There seemed so little point with nothing to do, everywhere shut and still the restrictions. Bereft of motivation and energy it was supreme effort to get up. But get up I did, had coffee, a late lunch and walk.

Now home in the warm I'm listening to The Marriage of Figaro drinking the rest of my fizz. The air is still outside and it is mild. But driving in from the west a great Atlantic storm is approaching. For once it is going to unleash its fury on my part of the world. Most hit further north but it is our turn.

Certainly won't be going out again when it strikes. I have vague fears for the cladding on my balcony and for the tree by my car but what will be will be.

Before it hits though I must once again sate my hunger with a Thai curry. Bad planning really on my part, should really have given myself some cooking to do rather than just reheating from the freezer. Tomorrow I will cook though. Sunday roast has to be done. Two roasts in three days is so decadent but so what? It is the holidays.

I hope you all enjoyed Christmas and that in time we will have better life post virus. That still hangs over us. I doubt anything will open up again until February or March time so a long way to go. Stay safe in this troubled world.

I Heard a Voice 

Glimpsing the Sun and the Moon.

The last two Christmas Days I have watched the sun set over the sea with my family. Today as the sun wanes in the western sky I am alone, in my flat and listening to Beethoven. Just back from a walk I saw the sun and the moon. The year of tribulation, pestilence and death is nearing its close. That many like me are alone on this glorious day is testament to the destruction brought on by a little known virus. A year ago we heard whisperings of it from China. Now nothing from China but the world is crying out in the first world pandemic since 1918.

Back in March I wrote of not seeing the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and I have yet to see them. But we are all pretty battered and bruised.

The loneliness did not strike until I messed up my photo of the epic Christmas lunch I made. I post a lot of food porn and I was disappointed to let everyone down with an epic fuck up. Switch from video to photo might help. So a sub par picture went out and I'm a little despondent.

That said though lunch was delicious. I boxed some up for my neighbour Richard to collect and he seemed to appreciate it all.

Now as the light fades I reflect on what was, what might have been and what may be to come. The truth is none of us are certain of the immediate future. True vaccines are being rolled out, dad had his on Thursday, but we are all in the dark.

With little choice but to carry on I wish you a merry Christmas from my humble flat, good cheer for the New Year and enjoy all that indulgence. A glass of Chianti awaits now. And after my bath, cheese and Barolo. Still too fat to eat it yet.

I Heard a Voice.  

On the Cheap

People in my world have long suspected that doctors and the NHS too often make decisions on the basis of cost rather than need. How long did it take for SSRIs to the place of tricyclics? Why is venlafaxine prescribed as a weapon of last resort? And did the advent of atypical antipsychotics really need to be delayed so long to the many rather than the few?

During my MSc in Mental Health Practice I learned of the complex mathematical equations used to evaluate cost effectiveness and efficacy of drugs right across the piste. But I had never until last week been knowingly affected by this flawed and baseless practice.

Last Friday I spoke to my GP for the first time in nearly three years. Yes that is how hard it is to get an appointment. He wanted to talk to me about medication despite my consultant reviewing things every three months. Apparently the pharmacist who has caused me so many problems in the last few months has now suggested that I be switched to a cheaper alternative to my Trimipramine. Since when did a pharmacist make decisions about my care? Especially as they have never actually talked to me about what I take and why. I have long doubted the effectiveness of antidepressants but the key indicator for me of relapse is insomnia. And having tried everything on the market with little effect it is the only pill that gives me consistent sleep. I certainly wouldn't change that for the world. Maybe I shouldn't take it for sedation but I done really care.

I'm speaking to my consultant on 5th January and it will be an emphatic no on my part to any spurious suggestion of change on cost grounds.

This aside I'm doing okay. True I'm utterly alone and cannot see anyone for Christmas. I am a little anxious but my mood is holding. Nearly everything is ready for the subdued big day. I'm not at work. I spoke to my therapist today. And my lovely friend Karen. In these uncertain times I cannot ask for more than that. What is is.

Normally at this time and date I would be sat at the bar of The Butt of Sherry talking to dad and old friends. But it is not to be this year. I will make the most of what I have, cook up a multitude of feasts, consume wine and listen to opera. The odd walk is welcome, I'm just back from a rather dark and damp wander. And there is always our new found lockdown ways of communication. The Selwyn crew on Christmas Eve. Dad and Miriam on Christmas Day. And who knows who else.

I will be on here on the day to wish you all a merry Christmas. Until then take care.

I Heard a Voice.

Carols, Rainbows and Chianti.

The glorious sunlit morning I woke to gave way to sporadic clouds, broken drizzle and a rainbow as I ventured out into the world this afternoon. This December has been marred by the rapid spread of the pestilence, virtual house arrest and the cancellation of Christmas for many. Life looks bleak.

I cannot however succumb to the darkness. The term is finally over, I ate a wonderful slow roast lamb shank for lunch, I listened to Mozart and Puccini, and I drank Chianti. I walked in the glorious open air and saw a pale crescent moon. Now as the light fades I'm listening to Christmas carols and finishing the wine.

So what will become of me moving forward? In truth life seems even more uncertain than when I wrote a year ago. True change has come but it has not been good change. Who I am in 2021 may be defined by a tumultuous 2020. That I made it to the end of the year seems a miracle. Much did not feel good about the last year.

It is easy to say it can't get any worse but who knows? I have no plans moving forward other than trying to relax in the holiday, indulge, reflect, consume and take it a day at a time.

Opera, books, and culinary adventures will ensue. My therapy will continue. My friendships will flourish I hope. It will just be from a distance for the moment. Much hope is being placed in the various vaccines, I will certainly have them when my time is right. My dad I suspect will get his pretty quickly. Nigel too. When I get there I do not know. I may be many things but a fool is not one of them so why would I decline?

The rest of today will be passed with carols, NFL and a few beers. Stay safe in these uncertain times.

I Heard a Voice.