Puccini on a Freezing Night.

Brace yourselves for the cold in the UK! It's bitter out there. Plummeting temperatures across the country, frost and ice.

I'm at home in the warm listening to Puccini's Il Trittio as is my won't on a Wednesday. 

Thoughts that my life might stabilise after buying my flat have proved a slightly false dawn. Work remains busy and hard at times. Anxiety has been on a rollercoaster ride the last couple of weeks. 

Each day brings a different challenge that makes me doubt my knowledge, my experience and my life. Yet I bounced back and face each day however battered I am.

I spoke recently of a desire to return to mania. That would be great but not for those around me.

The weekend did bring a calming influence with my lovely friend Jayne visiting on Saturday. We have seen so much, and shared so much, and separated and come back together since we met in 1994.

Over an epic 4 hour lunch we reminisced, wondered what was, what might have been a contemplated what might be to come. We both made it out of the pit of hell.

We're hoping to meet every couple of months to indulge, imbibe and support each other. I'm lucky I have such amazing friends. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Red Kite Over the Woods.

Saturday night here in Hertfordshire. A little warmer today and it's been okay. Finally banished the last vestiges of the virus I picked up 10 days ago.

I supped on seasoned fresh sardines pan fried in butter with new potatoes and green beans. I'm slowly consuming a bottle of Picpoul de Pinet and listening to Britten opera.

My week was long and tiring but the Christmas break is not far off.

Today I have been thinking of nature. My mum was in awe of the natural world. A keen gardener and bird watcher I think she would have liked here.

I live on an estate but the woods are only across the road. And they are patrolled by beautiful red kite. They soar effortlessly on the thermals. So graceful. 

I drove to The Waggoners today after food shopping and there was another kite surveying its dominion. Nature is beautiful and savage.

Tomorrow brings Sunday, roast pheasant and the NFL. Thank goodness for weekends. 

Will it Come Again?

The sun is shining on a beautiful Sunday morning here in Hertfordshire. Bitterly cold though. Winter is beginning to knock at our doors after a mild and wet autumn. 

I find myself flat and uninterested. The virus that afflicted me in the week is receding. Still have a cough but I can eat and drink much more easily. 

What is happening with my mood? It remains stubbornly around neutral or in the low region. I long for a high! Even completion on the flat did not send me into the delights elevation. Will it ever come again?

Wherever my mood is I still have to get through the day. It just feels hard.

Part of what troubles me is the silence that echoes from South London. It was so lovely to see my friend Charlotte at the party. She disappeared into the night and although I know she is safe the silence since troubles me.

She will get back to me at some point. Or is she another friend who walks away with no explanation? It happened twice earlier in the year. 

Much of the last few months has been brutal but I have made it through. Mozart plays for which I'm grateful. Roast belly pork awaits later. So Sunday rolls on.

I Heard a Voice. 

Taking a Toll.

As the days of November march on the rain, darkness and gloomy outlook does not abate. 

So much has happened since my last post. I became a home owner. We had a big party. My anxiety took over. My treatment for said anxiety began. And now I have an upper respiratory viral infection. 

After so much in recent months perhaps it is no surprise I paid a price. Teachers always say the keep going and going then collapse at half term.

So for now I must rest, take paracetamol and drink lots of water.

I have put off work next week. That may diminish the guilt I feel that I'm letting our team down. I did inform them but now seems that was the wrong thing to do. But I cannot undo what is done. Clearly I have a lot more to learn about management. Boundaries were always a challenge for me. 

Although it is uncomfortable what is worse is the horrific dreams I had overnight. Viral infection has done that to me before. I hate dreams, rarely dream of anything nice. 

The troubled world will carry on in my absence. Just listening to the financial statement which the government hopes will get us out of this mess.

I think we need a change of government. Rare that I make political comments on here.

The coming days will see me recover. And then onward a day at a time. 

I Heard a Voice. 

A Worn Looking Hotel.

As I sit here and write for the first time in a while I'm in a hotel room in Reading. It's comfy enough but looking a little worn out. A once great Victorian house converted to a hotel like so many across the country. Canterbury is very similar. 

I'm here for a work seminar tomorrow. Been dreading travelling but I gave myself time  I didn't panic and I made it.

A much more significant event is marked today. It was exactly a year ago I left the College Lane Campus of the University of Hertfordshire for the final time. As I drove away the song "Road to Nowhere" came on the radio. An omen? Maybe but I've actually arrived somewhere. 

The journey has not been easy, work has been hard, I've lost people emotionally as friends and to death, I had covid and I've been through the stress of having to buy my flat.

On Friday we complete. I will be a home owner for the first time in my life.

Back to this evening I'm not sure if I will see the quasi legendary drinking talents of some of my colleagues.  But I will see my Selwyn friends Matt and Kay who are picking me up for dinner later.

I Heard a Voice  

Tired and Flat.

On a grey and wet October Sunday I'm tired, lethargic and flat in mood. Not what I expected of a weekend visit from my old friend Marie. 

In truth neither of us has been up to much. She is recovering from a heavy cold last weekend which she said hit her as hard as covid. Me feeling the effects of working too long without a break and the stresses of buying my flat.

Actually we're really near to completion. The postal strike has held up the paperwork but should be done this week. 

The other factor is Kelly's funeral on Tuesday. We're all still feeling battered and bruised by what happened and the atmosphere is subdued and sombre. Together we will get through it through. 

For now though I am listening to Don Giovanni and thinking nothing. We have a table booked at The Waggoners for 1.30 pm. Lovely roast beef. 

So on my tired and drained emotion I bid you all goodbye for today. See you soon. 

I Heard a Voice. 

I Never Say No.

Greetings! A couple of weeks have elapsed since I was last on here. It is a beautiful sunny autumn day here. I'm listening to Beethoven's violin sonatas and cooking slow roast shoulder of lamb.

During those last few weeks I have done a lot of reflecting. Of triumph. Of disaster. Of loss. Of being lonely. Of comforting others. And of never saying no.

My business is beset with an oblique thing called boundaries. I did not change side when I started working in mental health as some claim. But I was shocked at how my working world strove to shut me down from my real world. Us and them. Them and us.

In truth the success of my career has been that I went beyond those boundaries. My credibility is my madness. 

Years later I am plagued by giving too much. I never say no to anyone struggling with their mental health. 

Sometimes I need to switch off. This week I've been supporting five people beyond my work. As we all struggle with Kelly's death, with the chaos in the world I am in great demand. 

I live in that world but sometimes like today I just want to be alone with my music, with my cooking and my wine.

Hang in there everyone, I'll be back soon.