This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Thursday, 21 September 2017


Hey peeps,

My old lady on the cliff top is away today so I am not yet at work. I will go and do the care home if the weather allows.

Not much happening, yesterday I worked while the rain threatened but came to nothing.

Still having infection problems despite the hydrogen peroxide.
Funny, I could be a mad scientist, I know about Hydrogen Peroxide and Potassium Permangatate or however you spell that.
It is useful stuff potassium permagutate, I used to use that when I was homeless, it turns your skin brown, or purple.

Wednesday, 20 September 2017

I have the police trawling the blog again like they did last year before they attacked my home.

Police, either get it over with or go away, your harm to me is unhealable and lifelong, I am sick of you whining about budget cuts while you continue to harm me and other vulnerable people.

You don't have a credible charge to bring, you openly allowed harm to me, again, and again, while you did nothing about my abusers.

You are b*stards.

Tuesday, 19 September 2017

Tuesday Evening

Good evening peeps,

It is dark, probably night time then.

I was working earlier but it felt like I was getting a migraine. It hasn't got too bad, but I think it is because I wasn't sleeping well last night, night terrors about Welby and his church, difficulty getting comfortable or sleeping, and a sad dream that I was in hospital and my dad was there, I always know in dreams that he is dead, however comforting his presence is, and I always want to hang on to the dreams.

I need my massage machine. That will help with the tension, and hopefully I will be tired enough to sleep tonight.

I said yesterday that there were internet issues, but those seem resolved for now.

I have been in a clumsy mood today, which again, would indicate migraine, but hopefully the migraine is coming to nothing, earlier it looked really looming, but then it faded again. I have dropped a few things today, thankfully nothing serious.

Not much else to say, can't concentrate on university prep today so I am leaving it and just watching films, Hollyoaks is a bit crappy at the moment.

I was working for my old lady earlier and I asked her not to give me shortcake as I am trying to watch my weight. She replied that I look like I am losing weight already as I have lost my bum.

I got worried, I have no idea where I left my bum and I need it for sitting on.

My old lady says funny things.

A video postcard from Smyth abuse victim 021 to Ailsa Anderson, Archbish...

A video postcard from Smyth abuse victim 021 to Ailsa Anderson, Archbish...

Monday, 18 September 2017


Hey peeps,

Brief update to say I will be offline most of this week, nice of me to warn you for once isn't it? Usually I just snicker and vanish. Which is really unfair.

Hydrogen peroxide helps but hasn't made the problem go away.

Today is nothing special, more laundry, some housework, some work, a trip to the bank. Paying in, paying bills.

The stats on the blog shot up from Jersey and when I asked why, I was told, Ashenden is picking fights, the new Dean is being a new Dean to himself, and Bailhache had a fart attack.

Well, maybe I will be able to come home sooner if Bailhache is on his way out. I can imagine all the nonsense and froth that will be written when he does die, but none of it will change Jesus' mind about sending him to hell. None of it will change what Bailhache really is, no matter how thick they lay it on. Good riddance.

Here's to Jersey:

See you all soon peeps, I will blog when I can.

Sunday, 17 September 2017


Hey peeps,

Yeah, not liking the high stats from Jersey, always indicative of an attack.

Yesterday my friend insisted on meeting for coffee. Which was good, it helped me to feel a bit better.
It was good to talk, and we did some window shopping as well.
Her husband came to meet us and he was telling me about a book, the book he described sounded so interesting that I looked it up and I will get a copy eventually.


Feeling a bit better today, not awesome but a but better. Using Hydrogen Peroxide solution to help with infection. Allowed to, of course.
Still haven't skyped the doctor again yet.

Today I wasn't going to church because I don't like the visiting preacher's preaching, but I decided to drop in on another church that our church had links with.
It was a novel experience, my first visit to another church since things changed, but they treated me well and I was perfectly happy with the service.

Then I came home and did a roast dinner, turkey, roast potatoes, and broccoli.

Then I have been cleaning and things. And I nipped to the farm, the hens followed me interestedly as I went in the barn. The hens think I exist to feed them. I was telling my friend yesterday about how I thought the geese and ducks would be scared of the strimmer but instead they followed me round the paddock, commenting interestedly. The geese put themselves to bed several times too, because when they see me, even in the middle of the day, they think it is bed time. They insist too.
Pied Piper of Poultry.

I am just watching self/less on DVD again.

Friday, 15 September 2017


Hey peeps,

I am still not well, I have continued to drag myself to work though.

Yesterday was a rotten day, because after enduring the cliff top, which is not my favourite, I went back to strimming the farm, and the strimmer got so bad that I made myself more ill trying to force it to start, in the end I gave up and the man said he had had trouble starting it too, which wasn't good as it was only serviced a month ago (when it was playing up before).

So I had to quit the strimming and try and  mow some of the paddocks on a high cut, and then I mowed the lawns and orchards, but I was knackered and in pain from the effort, it's tough cheese when you have heavy work and a bad strimmer when you are ill and have no choice but to work.

Today the sun was shining again and I was in pain so I didn't want it to, I went and worked at the care home, and then for the old lady.

Then I came home and sat in bed and watched Self/less, and then Hollyoaks, and didn't do much.

My friend wants to go for coffee tomorrow but I feel so ill.

I went to the shop and sat and looked at the sea for a while.

Wednesday, 13 September 2017

Wednesday evening

Good evening peeps,

As my twitterpeeps and some others will know, I haven't been well. I am still not well.

It's funny, I was just thinking about my friend, two years ago she came round to see me, and she was not feeling great, she was coughing, she said she had a chest infection, she said she would go to the doctor, and when she did, she was sent straight to hospital, she died four months later.

I am not dying, I just feel as if I am. The infection and fever were bad enough, but then the reaction to the tetanus jab, and a lot of other stresses all at once. 
And I have to try to keep working and  the weather is making that difficult.

Today I had the farm and another job, but the other job cancelled due to the weather and so I was strimming at the farm.
That was a bit of a disaster too.
I managed to do what all gardeners eventually do, but I had thus far avoided, despite both my workmates doing it recently.
I broke a window, and not one, but two! 

The strimmer threw up some stones and broke two greenhouse windows, ask any gardener, we have all done this at one point, and some do it quite a lot, both my workmates have recently, but my smug clean record was broken today.

When the lady got back, I went and said 'You won't be very pleased with me today!' 
but she took it in her stride and said the last gardener had done the same.

The strimmer was being an utter devil, it was hard to start, lost it's wire, and replacement was hard to find, I swear I spent more time trying to get the strimmer running than I did strimming.

But I got some time with the livestock too. When I arrived, the duck house roof had wandered off in the gale and the ducks had followed suit, the geese were yelling as they were still in, and one embarassed hen was out because it had forgotten to go in the barn the previous night while the other hens were still in. 
So I sorted them all out.

By the time I called it a day, I was so ill and tired, I wanted to go and do another job but when I got there I realised I was not in a fit state to be out, so I came home and have been in bed.

It is a difficult time, peeps, I have to work, I have to support myself, but it isn't easy in the bad weather and with illness.

Oh, university prep has started, and if I wasn't so ill I would be enjoying it. The ladies were giggling because my materials parcel was small for this term and I said I usually got a big box of things, and they said 'Well it is all hard work condensed into one book this time!' They liked my back to school comments I think. 

My postcard to Graham Tilby

I will update the daily blog when I can. Still fighting health problems here.

Monday, 11 September 2017

Smyth victims postcard to Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury


Hey peeps,

Nearly a week since I blogged, on the anniversary of the police destroying my life again.

I have been battling another infection.

I am not willing to go into the local hospital for any surgery, the local hospital is under special measures and is a death trap basically. My friend was left with fluid draining from her lung onto the floor there when she was dying, and I know of other horror stories. And anyway, because of the NHS treating me terribly courtesy of the church and police, I am non-NHS but the operation I need would cost £2,500 private. A head scan will be cheaper and I need that first.

I tried to skype the doctor on Saturday but the signal is bad here in bad weather so I couldn't, anyway, all they would say is antibiotics, incision and operation, and they would try to persuade me to go NHS and get it done, but I won't.

Anyway, never mind that, it is not life-threatening, just disrupting.

The weather has been wind and rain, as it has for most people, and so I have been rained off a lot, which is not good.
It has been an unremarkable time, just struggling to live because of the unresolved church injustice and the impact on me.

Yesterday I finally had the time and energy to attend my church, it was quiet there, a few people still away, the people who I sit with were away and had suffered a bereavement as well.

It was funny though, because the old ladies who sit back right came out with one of their er, bloopers.
They said to me 'Oh, it's nice that you are here when your friends are away!'

You see, I don't attend church to see my friends, although that is a nice side effect of church. But the oldies at the back think that I don't know about God or Christianity and that I come for the social side. I think back right provide comedy for the whole church sometimes.
But anyway, my friend was on door duties and I told him what they had said and we laughed.

I guess I should have said to the old ladies, who are very old really, that everyone at the church is my friend, but I said 'I come for the worship, not because my friends are here'.

Anyway, so I was chatting with my friend on the door and when he was asked to help with prayers, I went on the door and did bright smiles and handshakes, and charged the customers a shilling for the books, no I didn't charge a shilling really.

I normally sit front right with the peeps, but as they were away, I was going to sit on my own, but my friends in centre right decided I was too norty to be alone in case I danced in some aisles or was wandering around under the seats looking for gum, so they squashed me in the middle of them in centre. :( notypeople are free range, not too keen on the squashness, but liking being included.

The service was OK, it will be a long time before I can completely stop the flashbacks, but it was informative, good bread and butter, as they tend to be at that church, and afterwards people made a fuss of me :( but my friend asked if I would meet her for coffee this week, we haven't been for coffee for ages, as you may have noticed, I like coffee with her because she is similar to my adoptive mum, coffee means a long chat and then a tour of town and window shopping as well, which is fun.

Oh I forgot to say earlier, after the service another old lady came hurrying after me, not one of the back right, she is quite nice, she brings her blind friend every week, but anyway, she said to me 'I always think your hair is so beautiful!'
That was so nice of her to come and say that. As some of you know, my hair has always been difficult for me, but in the past year, with it thinned and cropped to shoulder length and bleached beautiful honey blonde by the sun, my hair is actually not bad, I have made peace with my hair at last, as long as I can keep it at shoulder length and thinned.
So it is nice to know that someone else likes my hair. I don't know many people with natural hair who are my age, my hair parts in the middle and normally has no styling and of course no chemical dye, the sun bleaching is lovely, in the past I sometimes tied my hair back, but I am not keen on that, it stops the wind from blowing it so much at work though.

Today is a slow start, with the weather and the lingering infection. At least the flat is clean and there will be food.
Tomorrow, and I am sure I will be OK for it, I am having vaccinations.
The NHS messed up, as they did with everything so I am not vaccinated like most people, but the one that I need, which they have let me down on is the tetanus, polio and diptheria, or however you spell it.
They did a tetanus when I was late teens, early 20s, as I was working on the land, they never did a booster, too busy failing me in other areas, and they only did part of my polio, and as for the other thing, the never vaccinated that. So I have tetanus jab in full tomorrow, with polio and the other stuff.
And yes, the NHS were reminded repeatedly, didn't give a damn, so yes, it is a private vaccination. I am a gardener, sick and destroyed as I am, and I have to look after myself.

University prep starts in two days. And what am I doing? Well as you know I deferred a module, and I can't retake yet, so I am taking another module in it's stead, just one module this year, to get me to 240. Which, as you know, will only be 60 away from a degree, or 120 from an honours, and I am going for honours, so I will hopefully end up with a BA Honours. I will die from the church, police and NHS first, but at least I tried. And I am not taking any music exams this year.

And regarding the psychologist, the referral was fine, I will be seeing her when she gets back from holiday.

Tuesday, 5 September 2017


Good morning peeps,

Well I am trying to use the newer orthapedic pillow with the head support, but it is only partially successful. It is a bit too firm.
I didn't have such bad terrors in the night, although it is never good to be terrorized, I woke in fright from a bad dream and mainly I just re-lived the police seige of my home a year ago today, another mischief by the unregulated and dangerous church of england.

I will tell you about it, I guess, because I never did.

But first I will catch you up on yesterday. Yesterday I didn't work on the estate with the boys, I worked down at the marina with the peace and quiet and the fishes and boats.

I was mainly doing heavy work, using the heavy hedgecuter to cut hedges. It was a damp and muggy day, not nice to work in, but for the occasional breeze blowing the rain and sweat and cooling me down.

It was peaceful, and I had coffee and lunch when I needed.

I did ache though, but because of this machine I have, I can work hard and ache without getting sick.
Although my shoulder did ache in the night.

I was so tired last night, I watched Hollyoaks and had an early night.

Am tired now, and the weather is dodgy, I have the care home and one of my old ladies if the weather allows.


It was the day after the horticultural show, I had stewarded, I had shadowed the judge, and I had been told to start growing and competing again for next year, but I saw little point in any of it after what the church had done to me.
It was an ordinary day. Or so I thought. Monday September 5th 2016, 6 months after the Church of England had me publicly and finally destroyed and presumably hoped that I would suicide.

A year ago today it was raining in the morning, not heavy rain, but the weather had been wet enough to leave the ground too wet to work, so I delayed work.
Incredibly the rain a year ago today is exactly the same as today.

I had Max, the car, parked outside the front, and I was running errands, doing laundry and loading junk into Max to take to my store.

My landlord was getting two unemployed tenants, a couple who lived in the flat opposite me, to clean the house, this happened sometimes and I think he paid them.
I was dodging round them to load my car, and we laughed and joked.
I was hoping to go to work in the afternoon as the weather was due to clear. I had no idea what was about to happen.

I went to the laundry and the store, and I came home to get lunch and work things.

The world ended.

My landlord was working on the old shop that he was converting to a laundry room. He would always stop and talk but I didn't expect what he said.

He told me that the silver car outside the house was a police car and that a male and a female officer had come to see me, and he told them I was probably at work now, and they had said they would go away and come back in an hour. I will always wonder where they actually went, presumably to rally the troops to beat me up.

He said they had walked into the flats and he had found them there,  but they had no warrant. He said they were claiming to be 'concerned' about me. Well why did the police allow the church to destroy me despite my claims for help if they were 'concerned' about me?!

I told the landlord that when the police came back then I had said that they were to leave or I would make a harassment complaint.

As he had said they would be back in an hour, I thought I had time to get a backpack and flee the property. But he must have called them as they came back as soon as I went into the flat.

I was trapped in my flat with the police, landlord and the various nosey neighbours and drunkards outside the pub outside, and the police had no respect for my privacy and welfare as they tried to force my old name and identity back upon me and on my community and landlord. The police have always treated me with contempt and behaved badly to me, and this was no exception.

My landlord stupidly gave the police my private number - he later said it was to get rid of them as they refused to leave.
The policewoman tried to phone me and I told her to leave or I would make a harassment complaint.

She then tried to text me, wittering about not wanting to cause me distress and alarm - don't be stupid, the police have not only aided the church in destroying me, but have refused to stop serious, evidenced, and criminal harm to me by the church and have even tried to tell me that the church aren't doing anything illegal when they have been doing. The police are outright liars and will lie to get what they want, they are callous dishonest brutes, and telling me they didn't want to cause me distress and alarm was a repeat of ever police lie I have heard, and I have heard many.

I texted back that she was to leave or I would make a harassment complaint. I was shocked and broken, destroyed and in collapse, as these police remained outside, having destroyed my new identity and life and left me knowing I would have to leave my home and community.

I feared for my life as the police refused to leave, and I got my backpack, the police were downstairs outside the flats with my landlord and the nosey neighbours, one of the police was sitting in the car, drawing big lines through a paper document.
 I went upstairs in the flats and climbed out on the roof. I am scared of heights and it was a long way and I was terrified.

I didn't know what was going on down there, I heard people mowing about, the female police officer was wearing stilettos, would you believe it? They were plain clothes, but why was that even allowed? I heard her stilettos clopping up to the door of the flats, and clopping back again, presumably the landlord closed the door so they couldn't just walk in.

I didn't know what was going on as you can't see much from the roof without tumbling over and I get vertigo and am scared of heights. But I knew the car was still there.

After a while I heard a car, didn't know if it was theirs, I texted the officer and asked if they had gone as I needed to pack a  bag and flee my home. She replied that they had, and I said don't come back, I will be making a harassment complaint.

I was so humiliated that I never wanted to see my landlord again, but he seemed unruffled, but because I didn't know what the bastards had said to him, I couldn't trust him. He told me that the police car had broken down and the clueless lady in stillettos hadn't been able to understand a bump start so he and the male officer had to do the bump start.

I told the landlord that the police had worked with my abusers to hound and destroy me, and I was a fugitive and I was going to have to move.
The landlord asked if freemasonry was involved and I said yes, to a certain extent at least. He said it all made sense and the local masons got away with murder, he had plenty of time to tell me all about it but I felt in immediate danger. He told me it was a 'Masonic Warning' and I told him I wished the Masons would get on with it as my life is worthless.

The landlord asked if I was just going on the run? I told him I didn't know. I had my backpack of clothes, food and medicine, and I was going somewhere, but I didn't know where. He wasn't the type to worry, or even care, as long as the rent was paid or I gave notice.

I went, I took Max, but I didn't know where I was going, I didn't know if I could safely cross any borders, I didn't know if the police were on the lookout for me, I was afraid and started to get confused, every flashback to police injustice and violence and lies and jeers overwhelmed me.

I texted my adoptive mum, and she asked where I was, but I didn't know. I didn't know what to do or if I had eaten or anything, those who read my blog know that I get like this when the church harm me and cause me shock with their vile lying press and media releases about my case.

I wasn't sure I should be driving. I took my things to the store. I don't know what I did. I went home late that evening, expecting trouble, but it was all quiet, and I tried to sleep. I didn't know how I was going to live and work any more, I was shattered. I didn't put any lights on in the flat and I went to the window every time a car went past.

For a few weeks it was like that, I pretended not to be there, I told the people I worked for that I had a virus. And I worked when I could. But my world, my life, the safe new identity life, was over, and seemingly for no reason.

There had been no warning to the police attack, and there was seemingly no reason to it either.
The people I told about the police behaviour said it was utterly wrong and inexcusable.

The police then tried to send me a letter in my old name, thankfully I was in charge of the post box and the post for the flats, and found the non-delivery slip for recorded delivery. I could not believe the police's cruelty or criminal harm, they knew both that my name had changed -they had used my legal name when they seiged the property, and they knew that anyone at the house could see the letter in my damned, condemned old name, the name of the person they and the church had destroyed.

I had made a complaint on September 5th 2016, when the police attacked the flat, and professional standards had tried to rubbish me but I had sent the complaint to the IPCC so professional standards had stopped trying to rubbish me, but now the matter was getting more serious, and the police then tried to force this wrongly addressed letter on me by email, coldly as well.
I escalated the complaint.

Professional standards, the police and the IPCC amused themselves by sending letters to my flat addressed to anyone but me, and I kept escalating the complaint.

A year later I have continued to endure harm and denial from the police, there has been no credible excuse for their harassment of me, presumably they can't say outright 'The church told us to harass you but they daren't bring charges because of the evidence against THEM!'

The formal complaint is not settled and I endure regular bullshitting from professional standards and the IPCC, but the police have broken the law and left me broken too, and I won't stop fighting them for justice not just for the attack a year ago, but for the decade of police brutality and jeers and imprisonments while they refused to stop the church's open and evidenced criminal harm to me. It is lifelong damage that can never be healed though.

I did leave the flats where the police had me shamed and destroyed, I was afraid 24 hours a day and never re-settled, and I live still in terror, because if they can do that once, they can do it again, and as they hate and brand me and aid my abusers, they will. I was safer on the streets and I slept better on the streets. I am trapped in trauma and fear now, a real fugitive, waiting for them to find me again and wondering just what damage they did in illegally and violatingly tracing me before.

Sunday, 3 September 2017


Good evening peeps,

I have been battling depression so thick and dark that I can hardly do anything.

It has rained all day.

I got the farm done.

I spoke to the doctor via skype this morning, I am please that my earphones helped me to hear the doctor better. It was a different doctor this time.

She was very helpful even though there isn't much that can be done.
I am non-NHS because of their atrocious treatment of me, and the local NHS are in serious difficulties and can't even help people in more serious trouble than me.

So the doctor listened, and she said she could understand, that it is important to stop the rebuild of my life collapsing altogether because of how I am struggling with trauma and depression, and because of my serious reaction to all anti depressants, I can't be allowed those even though it has got to a point where I want those, because usually she would prescribe those.

She said that all she could think of to do was write a general referral letter for a psychiatrist and include the fact that I can't have medication, and I should arrange to see a consultant psychiatrist and get a therapy action plan in place.

We only have about 2 or 3 private psychiatrists within 30 miles, so I emailed the most likely one.

He emailed back within a few hours, very polite and helpful, and told me what I know, I need a psychologist not a psychiatrist. I knew that, but I went with what the doctor said.

It's funny, it reminded me of Jersey and the lies of the Korris report.

The Korris lies still injure me, and nothing has been done about them or Korris.

In the end of my time in Jersey, I was in a collapsed state from the Jersey Deanery and Fisher and the Scott-Joynts harm to me, which is not recorded anywhere of course, and so I was paying to see my doctor every week, twice a week I think, and I was on the waiting list to see the specialist psychologist who had finally been brought to Jersey, and had been brought partly because of autism Jersey and my press and media release on their behalf when I and other autistic people were refused mainstream psychology treatment, discriminated against basically. Do any Jersey readers remember my broadcast and article?

Anyway, so in the end times in Jersey, I was seeing my doctor and waiting to see this new psychologist.
Do you remember what the Korris rubbish said? That I was refusing treatment and denying my condition? Jane Fisher's lies will affect me for life. Lies printed as fact, broadcast over the world and sent to the police as fact. Horrific.
But, the belated point of this is, there in Jersey, August 2010,  in my distressed state, I phoned my doctor and asked if I should actually be getting psychiatric treatment, and he said no, wait for the psychological treatment, he said he saw no sign that he needed to change me from psychological to psychiatric despite my state.

Consider now the depth of damage by the church of england and police in trying repeatedly to force my distress to be madness and for me to need to be put away!

Today the psychiatrist read my referral and said I need a psychologist not a psychiatrist.
To be honest, the damage to me by the church and police is such that I don't believe that anything can help me, and I am still not safe from harm, but I can't let things get worse, because I have had a number of near misses at work, my job needs full concentration, and the disturbed sleep and tiredness, flashbacks and lapses of concentration, are not safe in my work. And so many times I nearly go off sick just because of depression and despair.

The psychiatrist recommended two of his colleagues, one I knew wasn't the right person, the other I don't know, so he gave me her contact details and I have emailed her.

This feels like the end times in Jersey again, I am in that destroyed state, a year after the police yet again seiged my home for the church, I am depressed, distressed, destroyed, and yet I keep trying to pull back from the darkness, with ever decreasing hope.
I don't know how I will fund treatment, especially as winter is coming. All I can do is go on making the same steps in the hope of finding a way through.

But if the police, who aren't liking my formal complaint, attack my home again, I am finished. And living in fear is part of why I am deteriorating. They had no warrant, no charges, no reason to seige my home, release my old identity and smear me to my landlord and neighbours, and it was six months after the Archbishop and Bishops had me utterly and publicly destroyed to culminate their three year public destruction of me.
The police who seiged my home, and professional standards, refuse to do anything about the church's harm to me, as they have from start to now.

That sounds like a lot of rant. But it is all real and all horrifying. No human being can survive all this, and therapy is basically just a comforter while I wait.

Saturday, 2 September 2017


Good evening peeps,

The stats went up on the blog, especially from the channel islands, which is never a good sign.

I have been tired with bad nights so I haven't updated. I am off to bed now but will update briefly.

Yesterday I did the marina in the morning, nice and peaceful, and then the old lady in the afternoon, I was a bit worried that she is usually there to greet me and wasn't, but she had fallen asleep. Well she is in her 90s, she has earned her daytime naps. She woke up when the dustmen came round and made me tea.

I got home early and put the bed linen in the wash, and that was dry by bed time so I put the clothes wash on and hung that out overnight.

I had patches of severe distress in the night so it was hard to get up this morning and I had a lie in for once, as I didn't have the farm until this evening.

There were various events on today but I didn't go out, I just went to the shop and stayed home, lazily did a few tasks, not much, until I went to do the farm, I got some of the mowing done at the farm and did the animals. Then I went to the supermarket on the way home and did a big shop, so the fridge is full and there is fruit and snacks.

I watched Mrs Doubtfire this evening, and haven't done much else, lazy weekend, nearly bed time.

Thursday, 31 August 2017


Good evening peeps,

Well, I slept reasonably well. I actually woke at 5.30, which in the old days used to be a good thing, I used to love early mornings, but now they extend the misery of being awake and alive.

I didn't do much with the extra time, just a few chores before work.

I went to work, first the cliff top and then the mansion, peaceful and steady work.
Then I came home late lunchtime for a cuppa, and then I went and did the care home.

When I got home I watched 'The Cuckoo' again and then Hollyoaks and then 'Airplane!' was on tv.
I still watch it even though I have the DVD, and I still cry. Because it is my channel islands story.
Someone said this evening that they would pray that I could go back.
And until I can and do, safely go home to the channel islands, I will be waiting rather than living.
The Bailhache Brothers will make their way to deserved rotting in hell within the next 10 years or so, but Gorst will continue to gorge himself on power and wealth  and corruption for as long as he can. And he has done me as much damage as the Bailhache Brothers.
There needs to be justice and resolution for me, otherwise I am just waiting.

Anyway, life goes on.
I have the marina in the morning and then probably an hour for my old lady, an easy enough Friday.
But I have the farm to look after from Saturday evening to Sunday evening, all the animal duties and all the mowing. Darn. Although the money helps.

Wednesday, 30 August 2017


Good evening peeps,

Last night was the same, slightly more sleep, but waking tired and late in the morning.
The fact that I had planned for a rained off day meant that didn't matter.

I didn't do much today, collected my new DVD - 'The Cuckoo' the Russian film that saved my life in 2012, it was what decided me to go on living. So I watched that.

Everything feels strange, sad, drifting, the bank holiday always disrupts my autistic world, and yesterday working alone instead of with my mate, and then today, rained off.

I haven't done much, when I went out earlier I got stuck in traffic and was forced to stop and have a McDonalds lunch and get some essential groceries before turning round and coming home a different way.

I watched Hollyoaks, dealt with a lot of twitter activity, which generally made me feel worse, and went down to the sea in the dark, briefly. I haven't done that in a while but I can't feel what I used to feel, it all seems useless and pointless to me, the things I used to love or want to do are of no worth, my life is a wait for the church and police to finish killing me,

Tuesday, 29 August 2017


Good evening peeps,

Tired and aching and nearly ready for bed. Here's something that is making me smile to hear it again, I was looking for a good version and this will do:
If you want to think about  antecedent and consequent this is a good piece for that.

Well last night I had a bad night. Upsets over Welby and his rubbish. It was a bad night to have a bad night, with Monday's work always being the heaviest, and bank holiday making monday's work today's work.
And worse, with the forecast today in the high 20s, I wanted to start and finish early.
No chance of that after the bad night. I couldn't wake up to the early alarms because I had finally got into a deeper sleep.
So as it was, I woke at 7.50, and work normally starts at 8.30!

At least everything was ready for work, apart from the mower. So off I shot, and because I was working alone today, it didn't matter what time I arrived as long as I remained within our sub-contract framework of times and hours and work, which of course I did. 8.30 is a guideline that comes from the estate work.

It was strange to do a monday without my mate, but I worked steadily despite the heat, the fact that there was cloud some of the time helped me.
I didn't slack, I mowed, weeded, trimmed, and most of all I used the heavy hedgecutters to do the long hedges. Usually my mate's job, but there I was, showing the miracle of full recovery of my career and strength and I swung that hedgecutter above my head and ached but never faltered as sweat soaked my light cotton work clothes.

It was a good day's work despite the bad night, and I had plenty to eat and drink. The sea was flat calm and many craft were out, and people on the front watched in amazement as I did my workmates job of the long hedges.

I was glad to get home to supper, shower, Hollyoaks, and my massage machines, which are proving miraculous, I feel liberated because I can work to full strength again now as long as I put the massage machine on my shoulders and neck when I get home. It doesn't take away the normal ache and tiredness of hard physical work, but it means I won't be in agony any more, well, hopefully.

Over the weekend I read 'Altar Boy', a very insightful book about how abuse by a Catholic clergyman affected a young man's life and relationships. It made so much sense to me, as his sexuality and relationships seemed affected in a similar way to mine, and his insights into what went wrong and how the Catholic church failed to safeguard, made so much sense. When I finished that book I started the one I am on, which is called 'Mother's Ruin' about a girl who grew up with an alcoholic mother.

Tomorrow is due heavy rain so I may be rained off, rats! Oh well, hopefully my DVD of 'The Cuckoo' will arrive, the Russian Film that saved me and turned me from suicide and back towards life in 2012. I will recount all that to you again one day. I am looking forward to watching the DVD again.

Monday, 28 August 2017

Monday Bank Holiday

Good lunchtime peeps,

Well, yesterday was a bit of a non-day, I didn't do much, very little.
I meant to go to church but someone emailed me and by the time I had answered it was too late.

I did some shopping and had a drive but I didn't feel like doing that or anything else.
I had a ghastly excuse for a roast chicken dinner at the supermarket cafe, well what do you expect from a supermarket cafe.

Today I am still slow but I am getting some housework done, the fridge was bad so I have cleaned it.

I am moving some furniture around, hope to help my sleep if I move the bed, and hope to make the flat easier to navigate and use.

I wish there was a way out of this hell.

Saturday, 26 August 2017


Good evening peeps,

I have had a difficult day at work, I didn't want to work today anyway but it all went wrong anyway.

Yesterday wasn't too bad, I finished the garden clearance in the morning, then worked down the marina a while, then did my old lady's garden in the afternoon.

I got my new massage machine for my neck and shoulders, and it is very efficient without making things worse like some massage machines have done in the past. It is like having physio, that can make the pain worse.
I am glad the new machine means I can come home in pain but not end up ill and can relieve the pain, it is a step forward while the rest of my life collapses.

I went to the samaritans this evening and maybe it helped a little, even the samaritans can't do much for me any more, it has been really difficult to live since the police came to my home a year ago.

Thursday, 24 August 2017


Good evening peeps,

Getting tired now. I hope I will sleep.

Yesterday I worked with the boys at the marina, did a good day's work after a very bad night, it was a bad night with pain and discomfort rather than trauma.

Last night was a bit better, although I woke at 3am, whimpering and lying on my left side, neither of which are normal, I didn't feel well, so I got up and sorted myself out and went back to bed and slept.

My dreams are very sad at the moment, mainly about my family, and although I would never want them back, the mind doesn't forget 17 years in a family.

Today I did a good day's work, one garden after another.
The phone never stopped ringing and beeping, it is all go. I now have an extra emergency job for the property managers, to prepare a garden for an inspection, and because of the bank holiday and how it pushes the sub-contract and thus all my work up, I will have to work saturday.

My work went well today despite flashbacks.

I feel tired and defeated at the moment, but I will go to bed and sleep.

Tomorrow I have sub-contract and my old lady, and Saturday I have this emergency job and the care home. I may well get Sunday and Monday off though.

Tuesday, 22 August 2017


Good evening peeps,

Just trying to wind down.

It has been a bit of a soddy day.

It started as normal, I was up in time to procrastinate before work, don't worry peeps, that does not mean anything norty, anyway, I headed for work, I was going to do the old lady's garden.

Then it all went wrong.

The radio warned of an accident up ahead, and I heard it in time to plan to take the other route, but the problem was that traffic was gridlocked.

So I turned the car round and headed out into the wilds, and haha, got stuck behind a grockle can doing 20mph.

To cut a long story short, I realised I couldn't get to my old lady and went to do another job. I stopped to phone the old lady, realised that my phone was playing up, fixed it, and she had been trying to contact me to cancel as she isn't well and the ground is saturated.


So I went to get on with some other work, the gridlock meant I wouldn't go and buy trousers today, but anyway, I started having flashbacks as I worked, and they were bad.

Eventually I came home, intending to have a lunchbreak, but I just felt too awful. Until the injustices are addressed, there is no way of getting the horror to stop.

I have felt bad, but I put 2 5HTP in my coffee, and eventually I went into efficient mode, I sorted the flat out a bit, wrote letters, and prepared tomorrow's lunch, and I watched Hollyoaks.

Now I am just trying to head towards sleep without too much distress.

Monday, 21 August 2017


Good evening peeps,

Well last night I slept until 2.50am, and woke distressed, but I recorded my distress on the tape recorder and slept again, I can't remember my distress or what I recorded.

I woke this morning to something strange, it felt like there was water running down my lower leg, alarming because we have a flat roof and it had rained in the night, but there was no water on my leg at all! I looked this up and it is a neurological symptom, I know I have felt strange recently but I do not have any of the neurological conditions associated with this, so I may have been dreaming.

Anyway, it was estate day today, I always try to actively make it less hellish, so I had a shower and dressed in clean black jeans and a crisp blue shirt, and I had already packed litre bottles of squash, 500ml bottles of hydration salts, and a nice lunch of sandwiches, crisps and fruit, as well as painkillers and I thought I had packed a pain pen and cream, but no sign of those, they have vanished.

I managed to park at work, and the boss had nicked my workmate's space, and laughed at him when he arrived, but the boss wasn't feeling well, we have a joke about how we all turn up no matter what the weather and even if we have broken a leg, and it isn't that far from true.

But despite the boss feeling ill, and having had some time off, he was working today, he and his daughter did the top half of the estate and me and my workmate did the lower half.

Despite some repairs the mower was still too vibratey, and I said I would do some of the mowing but didn't want to get sick, and everyone said that was fine, but I did all the mowing down there, and it rained and it was damp and humid and horrible and I ended up covered in sticky wet grass cuttings.

At lunchtime I sat in my car and had my nice lunch and painkillers, I couldn't find the pain pen or heat cream so I had to make do with that. Then I got coffee. I had a problem today that the black jeans have worn at the seams and the wearing was pinching and rubbing my leg, which was nasty and has left a blister-bruise thing, but I couldn't do anything about it, unfortunately my work trousers have just given up. So tomorrow I will have to go get trousers.

Anyway, so it was my last day on the estate, not because the stupid management company have fired us, they couldn't get anyone else to take the job on under their terms, unsurprisingly, no it was my last day because I said that it is too much strain on me and I can't do it any more, the others wish they could quit too and also hate it, but I am the one with the injuries that aren't enduring it.

So, I have a new monday routine, I take the big holiday estate that I normally spend a morning on with my workmate, and I do that alternate mondays all day, and I do the Marina all day on the other alternates. So all change, and I don't mind too much.

Although it felt slightly sad in the afternoon, because everyone knows us, and various people shouting me over by name and chatting to me, I won't really see them any more.

I did some good clearing work in the afternoon, working alone, and watching a load of cats trying to get into my workmate's van, no idea what he has got in there but they want a piece. His van is a joke to us, as he never clears it out and we make up scare stories about what may be living or growing in there.

The end of the day was happy and sad, my last day on the estate and it has been a long time now, since my first day there, we were standing by the vans and laughing, talking about the marina and someone who lives there, and someone stopped to talk to us, the guy who I have known since I was a teenager, and he said 'They haven't got rid of you then!' It felt funny to me, because no, the estate didn't get rid of us, but it was still my last day.
We told him no-one else would take the contract on the hours and money, and he ranted about the management raking in fees and not using the money for what it is intended for, the residents have tried to force change, but it hasn't worked.
It is funny I will not see him again,  or all the other people who have been so appreciative of our work.

It's possible to get used to a place even if you can't stand it.

Anyway, at last it was home time, aching and tired, I came home, and started trying to do something about the pain, I can't find the pain pen or cream that I put on the rail and was sure I packed this morning, gone. Mysterious.

When I got home I had a shower and supper and watched some TV, not focussing really, Monday is a dud day once work has finished, there is only tiredness, and painkillers and massage seat and acupressure etc, I also did the rolled towel spine thing that the physio taught me, it is quite good, all I have left is some neck pain, and I am ordering a new neck massage thing.

There was supposed to be an eclipse, but it wasn't very good due to the fact that it was just before sunset. I remember the full eclipse, you won't believe how old that makes me feel, I was at work at the time and we went out to watch the full eclipse, but the one today just took a bite out of the sun and the sun was heading for sunset anyway so it was no good. I will write to the Prime Minister and complain and ask for a better one.

I am tired but as usual I am afraid to sleep, because of the distress.

Tomorrow I have my old lady, then some trouser shopping, then the care home.

Sunday, 20 August 2017


Good evening peeps,

Bed time, tomorrow we have the estate, they haven't got rid of us yet, grr.

A quiet day here, an unremarkable service at church, and then home, I wasn't deeply sociable, said hi to my peeps, and been home, just doing chores, watching films, preparing for the working week. Not much.

Not been feeling great, physically not great, and mentally distressed and flashbacks as well.

There is a suggestion that this unknown illness is early menopause, which would be perfectly reasonable, would explain the night sweats etc.