Introduction

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 http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/

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: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/JJNP

Saturday, 29 October 2011

Last night I went to homeless meal but I was too late to get anything to eat, I went to the chinese takeaway and they gave me spicy chicken and potatos and a seperate tub of cooked potatos, I didn't have to eat it all to feel extremely full.
I went to the samaritans, which wasn't as helpful as usual, I suppose this is a bad patch of depression. I went back and settled down to sleep.
It was very noisy in the camp, party night, fire jugglers, many people drinking, lots of noise, but I slept anyway, I was asleep quickly though I always feel vulnerable kipping down with all the party people nearby.

I woke at 4am, there was a man disrupting the camp, all the party people had gone, the man who was disrupting the camp was drunk or in need of help, someone called the police.

I think I only woke because I needed the loo, I went to the loo, had to go behind my tree because the loo that we have a key to is out of order.
I am very very tense with distress about the church.
I go back to sleep eventually, despite the teenagers squabbling in a tent next to mine, I dream that I am in a farmyard, herding pidgeons and ducklings and a person from the church comes along and starts self righteously preaching at me, telling me that they had to 'teach me a lesson', I reply by asking if she would like me to teach her a lesson by turning her upside down and standing her on her head?

Then I wake up and it is a grey cloudy early morning. The dream makes me grin and I do feel a bit less distressed.
I get up and there is a new face in the camp, a famous protester, who's name I can't mention, he talks to me about his writing and tells me how I should protect my writing, then he gets involved in a deep discussion with the traveller woman about the protests they have been on.
I go to the market and have a wash in the toilets and get a cuppa and some breakfast, as the camp are a bit lacking in hot water and solid food this morning, and it looks like the party people had fun in the kitchen.

Here I am listening to 'Music Box Dancer' by Frank Mills, a very soothing bit of music for those who can cope with it.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.