A Win at Last.

England have won a test match for the first time in eleven attempts-hurrah!!! I don't ever recall such abject ineptitude even in the dark days of the 1990s. It was pretty convincing too. I missed the end as I was out. Spot of lunch, checking out suits for the wedding, and fine pint of Doombar in the Waggoners. They've changed their lunch time menu and it is even more enticing-wish I had gone there.

Yet it was a not all a day of pleasure. Tedious cleaning including moving fridges and ovens-not much fun in this heat. But it needed to be done. Now time to relax.

I was intrigued to see that Time to Change have been searching for a young person willing to talk about depression whilst at school. I forwarded the link on to one of my students who I know would be outstanding at that. It is for a national newspaper. As usual they are only interested in young people. I really hope she is chosen although beating those odds of self aggrandizing people may be a tall order. My dealings with the organisation have been mixed, some good some bad. It would appear that if an individual fits their agenda help is forthcoming. If not of their agenda little comes the way of others.

Which all brings me to thought what has 7 or 8 years of the campaign achieved? A lot of celebrities jumped on the bandwagon. All good but hardly reflects most mentally ill people who are not and never will be stars. I've heard rumblings from quite senior mental health practitioners that not is as it seems. But I don't know. My original contact there Laura has long gone. I know one other there but I have never met him.

The question does yelling about 1 in 4 really help those with serious mental illness? I'm unclear how things are measured. There is a big difference between a problem and an illness. Is it semantics? I'm not sure. What I get to see in the main is the hard damaged end. I try to leave "problems" to others. Yet they still come to me. Do I give good advice? They seem to think so. So I see many I shouldn't. It keeps the stats looking good but this isn't about stats. It's about real people. and I can only work with those who seek me out. There are 100s I don't know. If they all came I would be overwhelmed. Let's hope that doesn't happen.

I will leave you on that note. Tomorrow is Borough Market with Dory; always good fun!

I Heard a Voice.

Following a Genius.

I'm back! Sorry for the error strewn post from Prague, had severe IT problems over there. Aside from that it did get better! Yes were are all slightly ridiculous on holiday but we all did well. Eclectic group of people but some real gems amongst us.

We arrived home at 1.30 am exhausted after a tortuous return journey but it was fun. And I found Mozart in a abundance which was a supreme joy that hadn't really crossed my mind before we travelled. Vienna is full of people in costume trying to sell tickets to Mozart. Don Giovanni plays nightly in Prague and we visited the site of the first performance. Sadly unless I completely missed the point it appeared the performers were on holiday so it was recordings and puppets. I would have gone if it had been live.

Back in reality I am playing Don Giovanni to remind myself of the great man's genius. It is very hot here and the lots of flies about but it is nice to be home. I think I will devote tonight to reading. A little more Henry James perhaps.

My mood is holding and my anxiety has dissipated. Long may that last!

I Heard a Voice.

Henry James on Budweiser.

Catherine Sloper had just met Morris Townsend this morning as we set off. I have brought Henry James with me on this trip to watch the absurdity of the English abroad. Fat, balding, greying middle ages men in ridiculous shorts and sandals, middle aged women in three quarter length shorts trying to look demure in this heat. Yes I am fat, balding, greying and middle aged but I'm certainly one of the two youngest people here.Welcome to Brits abroad in the Eastern Europe.

All very splendid baring the appalling loud old man who shouts to everyone that he was born here and escaped the Nazis. I don't care 20 times a day; poor son looking after him. We have another 6 days of this.

Yet I will have fun. The beer is good, the food heavy but nice, it is dirt cheap, and I'm away from the chaos of home. Lost dad on day 1 but he wouldn't be dad if he didn't get lost. Tomorrow Vienna awaits but there is food and beer to be had before then. I'll drink to that!

I Heard a Voice.

Heading for Defeat.

As the penultimate session of the Lord's test gets underway it looks in my eyes as if England are heading for defeat. India are notoriously poor travelers but they have outplayed us here. My comments on the first day still stand. What does that mean for English cricket if defeat happens? Surely the start of a new era. And as we go into that I expect more losing.

You find me on a yet another hot humid day taking a short break to blog in my office. It has been a quiet day. Sending feedback e mails. I know whether it will be good or bad before I even send them. My statistical year ends with July.

What will next year bring? There is an iron in the fire but I'm still at the crossroads I described a couple of years ago. Maybe it is more of the same. I hope not.

On the eve of my holiday I remain tense and anxious. I have no idea why. Everything will be fine. I'm meeting dad after work-let's hope he remembers to bring everything he needs. Curry might be on the cards. Then it is off in the afternoon.

This will be my final post before flying. If I get access while away I might blog over there. Until such time as I get on here again, take care and speak soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Wilting in the Heat.

The cricket this afternoon was not much cop for England. No wickets for ages and India slowly accumulating a lead. I go to the bathroom and 2 wickets fall in quick succession. Sod at his worst!

I've taken things gently today. A little shopping, wonton soup for lunch with Yang then a pint in a country pub. My anxiety of yesterday has abated somewhat although I still feel a bit edgy. I won't cook between now and our flight on Tuesday. I'm amazed how much salt is in packet meals even from M&S. Won't be eating them too often.

And all the time the oppressive heat and humidity. Very hard to settle and slept without a duvet. My many friends in North America who show up on my stats would probably consider it fairly normal but we do not react well to heat and cold despite our limitations. I really ought to have a look at what it is doing in Prague and Vienna. Not thought of that so far.

I hope my anxiety and associated mood remains manageable in the coming days. I really do want to try to relax on my holiday. Another post before then? Maybe. Bye until then.

I Heard a Voice.

A Green Top.

When I finally caught sight of the score in the 2nd Test at Lord's at about 5.40 pm yesterday I felt England had done well. 220 odd for 7 but didn't really take much notice. It wasn't until I got home and watched the highlights late last night that I was stunned to learn it was a very bad performance. It is the greenest pitch I have ever see. Green and grass on a humid day means a bowlers paradise. How in the world England failed to knock India over for 150 I will never know. Well I do, as usual they bowled too short. Is it really that difficult? These are highly trained professional athletes. It is beyond me.

Cricket aside yesterday things were a little different for me. I was in my governor capacity for the Mental Health Trust. There is a sense of foreboding at the financial world for the NHS. More cuts are on the way. In real terms it means fewer people are taken on board and they are that much iller. What was a crisis 5 years ago no longer is today. There simply aren't the resources any more. Challenging times ahead.

We are in the middle of a heat wave here. Temperatures are in the 30s, it's oppressively humid and there was a terrific storm in the night. Strange thing is I slept right through it. Given though that I once slept through an earthquake anything is possible on my medication. Heat brings insects and I really don't like insect. I fear an invasion when I'm away so took the precaution of leaving a key with a friend to pop in and check.

I must start preparing for our trip. We fly out early on Tuesday evening. I am anxious for some reason but I'm sure it will all be fine. I just hope the anxiety doesn't bring a downturn in mood. If you recall I was very anxious before my last holiday. Maybe I got it from mum.

There may be a post or 2 over the weekend then it is unlikely I will be on here until I get back on the 29th. See you soon.

I Heard a Voice.

Dreaming is Free.

It's day 53 since I gave up smoking. I'm starving all the time, am convinced I will be the size of a house by the end of the summer and the nightmares have become more sporadic. They appeared to have gone but re-appeared early this morning.

Back in those days when my mental illness defined my life I met an extraordinary man called Desmond. I never knew his age, inquiries usually elicited a response of 782 years, and all the time he was utterly deluded. He once announced to me that he was moving from Folkestone to Battle as he fancied a change. A few days before he told me he was leaving I called the hostel where he lived to try to arrange a cup of coffee. The staff member who answered asked if I knew anything about him moving. Apparently it was all in his head.

For all his delusions Desmond was extraordinarily kind. During my 4 month in patient stay in London in 1994 he wrote to me every week with his spidery hand often accompanied by a packet of cigarettes. Even the consultant asked who this man was who wrote every week with the amazing writing.

He died some years ago so I'm told. It is sad I missed his passing. He came back to me this morning in that nightmare. For reasons I do not understand I was trying to shoot him. Oh how the mind plays tricks.

So yes I'm still dreaming but out of focus and with more haze. That makes it easier to experience. I'm hoping my mental health will improve without such night time disturbances. Other than that the only other effect I've noticed is everything still tastes salty.

Given that a massively high percentage of mentally ill people smoke in the UK would it be too controversial to suggest cessation will increase mental wellbeing? Now that would put the cat among the pigeons-a storm of fury might ensue. It's just a thought though.

I Heard a Voice.