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

Wednesday 26 October 2011

The Big Issue seller wanted to hug me but he knows I am not keen, so he was a lot less intense and didn't try to ask me out.
I went to the daycentre and had tea and toast, then I went to the mission. The mission was friendly as usual and my adoptive Grandad gave me a big hug. The man with the guide dog was there, we always end up talking about guide dogs. I learned a bit about guide dogs from books and from a puppy walker when I was younger, but it always good to hear more from someone who has had a guide dog for so many years.
I have several cups of tea and a banana and they give me some sweet things called 'fruit winders', these are a rather complicated sweet.
They all gather round and pray for me, this is hard for me to cope with but I accpet it because they are a sparkle of light in my life. But I am relieved to step out into the cold cloudy day, there are dark clouds looming and the wind and the air are cold. Lovely.

I come back to town and check on the camp, no-one has stolen my sleeping back or taken over my tent again, so I do some tidying up round the camp kitchen.

Today is a day when the Church really really hurts, I am very conscious of all their blame of me and blackening of my name, all their lies about what happened and all their villification of me.

Tomorrow is giro day, I will have money for essentials such as toiletries, clean clothes etc, I will have money to put credit on my phone so that I can text my friend who sent me a text two weeks ago, she is a devout Christian who wants me to be a devout Christian and part of her denomination, but because of what has happened with me and the church I cannot be what she wants for me. I wear a Christian bracelet and a cross that she gave me though, because that reassures her.

I haven't been back to that daycentre that was involved in that attempt to set social services on me, I remember sometimes when I was there there was a girl who was in a bad way, she shouted rather than spoke, her teeth were broken and in bad condition, she kept trying to get the attention of the men there, but they took surprisingly little notice, even when she tried to hug them or sit on their laps, she took her tracksuit top off once and all she had underneath was a vest with her bust spilling out of it, but the men hardly glanced at her, this surprised me, sometimes I am under the impression that a lot of men, especially on the streets will jump at the chance of being close to anything female, but maybe I am too cynical and bitter, and I have had to deal with too many men who incomprehensibly show and interest in me. I am not pretty, even this girl in her tracksuit and makeup and broken teeth was prettier than me.
She went to my friend P. and tried to cuddle him, but he wasn't interested at all, she acted like she had a drink or alcohol problem, one morning when P. was sitting with me, he and I were laughing at my picture in the paper where I was photoed at the protest camp, the girl decided we were laughing at her, she started shouting and calling me names, including 'four eyes' because I wear glasses, there is a good reply to this, only a certain section of the population calls people 'four eyes' because that section of the population can't count.

Not really funny, but I shudder to think that the church think I am the same as this shameless girl. I have always tried to behave morally and be polite, though it is no secret that when I am being hurt I can get very angry, but I don't want to fight, cheat or sleep with the rest of the population.

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