The study notes we have for uni chapel prayers, which I am leading in 45 minutes time (!), alluded to this poem - I love it.

The Skylight

You were the one for skylights. I opposed
Cutting into the seasoned tongue-and-groove
Of pitch pine. I liked it low and closed,
Its claustrophobic, nest-up-in-the-roof
Effect. I liked the snuff-dry feeling,
The perfect, trunk-lid fit of the old ceiling.
Under there, it was all hutch and hatch.
The blue slates kept the heat like midnight thatch.

But when the slates came off, extravagant
Sky entered and held surprise wide open.
For days I felt like an inhabitant
Of that house where the man sick of the palsy
Was lowered through the roof, had his sins forgiven,
Was healed, took up his bed and walked away.

Seamus Heaney

At the end of the day, having achieved quite a lot, and squished the monster back into its box, I am looking back and feeling content. There has been a lot of stuff to occupy my thoughts and lots of positive moments along the way. After yesterday's online GDPR training, I have to admit it's nice to be sitting down not working this evening!!

When you set out to write a sermon and it goes off in a direction you did not expect... that!

(Channeling the inner monster for good purposes, hopefully)

So, it's about two-and-a-half weeks now since I declared myself 'off the sertraline' and on the whole, it's been good: more energy, more range of feelings, more alive.  The nausea has gone, and though the night sweats continue, I am getting used to them.  The problem is the insomnia and the chronic hip pain (due to other drugs and injury/over use), which have combined to disturb the monster who is stretching her claws... oh dear!

On the plus side, I am experimenting with herbal remedies that seem to be improving my sleep, and have discovered a form of paracetamol that I can tolerate in low doses... so I am hoping the monster will settle down again quickly, because I don't want to have to go back to the doping method (though will if necessary).

It all feels like a strange dance, to which no-one taught me the steps, where one day I can be happy as Larry, and the next aware that I am ready to 'snap' at the least provocation.  Today tends to the latter of these, and I don't like it one bit.

Ah well, in the scheme of things, it's nothing much to worry about - at least I am here, bascially healthy, mostly happy, and always grateful.

In June, I will be flying through the air for a few seconds, crossing the river Clyde, and raising money for Breast Cancer Care, the support charity with whom I volunteer.  Over the past few years, I estimate that I have offered peer support to around thirty women, some newly diagnosed, some at the end of active treatment, and everywhere in between.  Although I don't cost the charity anything directly, the service is not cheap to run, as there are employed staff, and volunteer training to pay for.  And that is just one small part of the work of this charity.

I have added a "button" to the top of this blog, which can be used to sponsor me, if you feel that is something you would like to do.  Alternatively (or as well) you could go down to the Clyde on Saturday 16th June and watch me take my courage in both hands, step off the edge and 'zip slide the Clyde'.