Roast Beef of Old England.

Greetings on a now sunny Sunday morning. Tosca has just finished, I'm alone in the silence of my flat and drinking iced water. Sounds idyllic I guess but not all has been well since I last wrote to you all.

The reverberation of the hammer blow of just over two weeks ago continues. Hard to describe the mental impact, bewilderment, loss, sadness. What is lacking is anger. 

My friends are all very angry about what has happened. I can make no sense of it but others are voicing what needs to be voiced but I cannot voice myself. 

I try to be kind and caring to all. Sadly that is not always reciprocal when it comes to what happened. Another cherished and loved person walks out on my life with no explanation. 

Ruminating is never good but at present I can't stop it. At least physically I am better. 

Each day is struggle that must be filled. Today it is with the legendary English culinary masterpiece and signature roast beef. I have a table booked at The White Hart at 1 pm. The beef there is stunning. 

Sadly it will pass all too quickly and I suspect my mind will turn and fold in on itself. Mental illness, twists of fate and bad decision making still pervade my life. So I will take it one day at a time. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Farewell the Past

You must accept my recent silence. Not sure who is reading anyway. Maybe no one.

The truth is that the last month has been really tough physically and mentally. Not a good combination. 

When I went to London a month ago I knew it could trigger a bumpy ride. And it did.

What I didn't expect was that at a time of vulnerability someone I care so much about walked out of my life.

That I've made catastrophic decisions on friendships and relationships is a given, well documented on here, in my books, in my guilt and in my shame. But I struggle to understand why someone would walk away without any explanation. That sadly is what just happened to me.

A lot of my friends are very angry with her. All agree I didn't deserve that and that it is not something I've done but more about her. But it still hurts. Really bad.

Alongside this hammer blow I have been really sick with what the doctors think is a virus. They signed me off last Thursday. Slowly getting better I think. No longer have fever or headache. The cough is less dry and painful. 

Life has not been kind to me this last month. But I will prevail. 

I Heard a Voice. 

A Hacking Cough.

On a beautiful sunny Sunday morning in my small part of Hertfordshire I'm listening to The Marriage of Figaro and reading. In truth the last two weeks have been plagued by a mystery malady.

Three doctors on Tuesday could advise only that it is a virus. An unusual one at that. Horrendous sore throat and hacking cough accompanied by fever and headache. I worked as long as I could before finally taking to my bed on Friday. 

It shows no sign of abating so going back to the doctors on Tuesday. 

Tomorrow is a public holiday here. Never find them easy but will probably take myself off for a pub lunch somewhere. 

On matters pertaining to today I decided I'd cook later rather than earlier. Roast Duck with plum sauce is on the menu. Got some Medoc to accompany it. No one is coming round. 

My flat has been a lonely place the last few weeks. No visitors. Cyberspace too has been quiet along with the phone. My old friend Anna did reach out to me a couple of days ago. I think people are maybe a little worried about me but just don't know what if anything to say.

I will recover though. I always bounce back even it's a slow and painful process.

I Heard a Voice. 

Spectre of the Genie.

Is it wise to revisit the past? Maybe, maybe not. My past never leaves me however much my cousin Cedric says let go. Actually since completing the writing of A Pillar of Impotence in 2005 my ability to stop my past dominating my present has improved. 

Anyway twelve days ago I revisited my darkest past. Reunion is a tricky thing. I have long talked of that darkness in therapy, with trusted friends and a few others. Just not overtly in public. The NHS calls it Adverse Childhood Experiences. That doesn't even come close to the horrors I've witnessed and heard over the last 30 years. 

It was hard that Wednesday and shook me to an extent. Not because I didn't understand my own life but that others are openly talking about what happened, how they'd buried it and then came to the realisation what it really was.

The genie sealed in a bottle for five decades feels like it's finally going to pop out. And that has triggered real mental struggle for me ever since.

Coupled with being physically ill and news that a more recent past is also coming to haunt me I've been a mess.

Yesterday I started to fight back. I cooked for the first time in a week, threw out the rotten consequences of not cooking, did the washing, tidied up and took the rubbish out. My flat is back to normal chaos after being neglected. 

Where I go from here I'm not sure. Today I will lunch at The White Hart, eat roast beef and drink Rioja. Tomorrow I will go to work. Just take it one day at a time.

I Heard a Voice 

Springtime Relaxing.

Greetings on a beautiful sunny spring afternoon. It is about time we had warmth and sun. Soon be dry enough to walk in the woods. 

A couple of weeks have gone by since my last post. Things have been going well. I had that week off. Made it to Borough Market which was fun. I relaxed and mainly switched off. The break was needed. 

Back at work last week and concentrated on my studies. First summative piece is done barring a handful of references. 6 weeks before the deadline. Also been recording supervision which forms another submission later in the year. 

The culinary adventures continue, lots of fine food, good wine and the indulgent things in life.

What happens next week will all be more frenetic, term starts. But I'm confident, thriving and mainly anxiety free. 

Still not had a lot of contact with people though. Rarely does anyone answer the phone, comments too are sparse. The silence from south London goes on eternally. There are still shades of loneliness, of self doubt and of self sabotage. Why do I always feel I'm the reason when in reality it is about others not me?

They will come back when they want something. So be it though. 

Enjoy that sunshine. 

I Heard a Voice. 

A Joyous Easter to All!

Happy Easter all! Whatever Faith, whatever creed I wish you all a joyous day as Christians all over the world celebrate this Holiest of days.

I walked away from religion years ago but I enjoy festivals of all Faiths and the music that goes in the Christian Faith. Good Friday, Holy Saturday and Easter day.

In times past I sang over Easter in Cambridge as a child and in many of the great cathedrals of Europe more recently. I may have paid a price for singing but there are many great memories. 

In my world I am unwinding after a relentless term. Yes I'm on holiday until a week tomorrow. 

Mentally all is well at the moment. Late winter and early spring have brought some darkness and fear but today I'm good. 

I'm listening to Madame Butterfly and cooking roast turkey breast with sage and thyme wrapped in bacon. A smoked salmon starter with English fizz. Two friends will be joining me. English Bacchus to accompany the turkey. Just wish we could see the sun, it's freezing here.

My week off will include a trip to Borough Market. Might even go to Cambridge for a day. I have therapy on Thursday. 

As the world continues on its self destruction remember today is a day of peace. It will be in my small flat in a small town north of London. Happy Easter. 

I Heard a Voice. 

Three Decades and Three Weeks

It is three weeks since I last came on here to write my thoughts to an empty and silent world. I've had things to say but no time to say them.

If you're a regular reader, not many left after fourteen years of writing, you will recall how hard I find anniversaries. This weekend marked three.

Two years ago yesterday an important person walked away from my life. Two years ago another important person started the process of leaving me too. And today marks thirty years since my second and final admission to a psychiatric ward.

Words cannot describe what that feels like. I tried and failed to convey the horror in A Pillar of Impotence. Put simply you wear that badge or you don't. 

Almost everyone from that place is dead. A few years ago a survivor got in touch because she stumbled across this blog. She's disappeared again. I'm left alone with those memories. 

Today I feel flat and lonely despite having a visitor. I seek merely to get through the day. 

Mozart plays and I'm silent with my thoughts. 

Tomorrow life goes on, today is to be endured.

I Heard a Voice.