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

Monday 24 October 2011

The Cult, the final chapter

The man tells me that I should be 'respecting their hospitality' by being in the service, I tell him I am having a panic attack, but he ignores me and continues to rage, I get up and walk away, telling him he is being unreasonable and that he should not be using the hospitality to force me to do anything and that is not Christian and that his own church members are standing there smoking and he should discipline them first.

He comes after me, still yelling, and looking every bit the drug addict that he told me he used to be.
He tell me that there are 'questions over my mental health' I reply that he is aware I have Aspergers Syndrome, that he is also aware of my stress and he has been warned about how I act in stange situations and crowds and when I am stressed and I have warned him all of this, (and when i did he made out that the cult made allowances for everyone), but he keeps up his tirade and tries to force me to go back, I tell him very firmly that this is not Christian, and he says that the sisters think I am strange and that they are very wise and used to talking to people. I reply that they are not, they are scared lost girls who hide behind hairdye, fashion, cigarettes and puercings and don't join in worship and are out there smoking while he raves at me, a visitor, I also remind him that Jesus didn't even rage at legion or try to force him into a synagogue.
He is beginning to lose his raging, and tries to tell me that it is dangerous for me to be out here alone as it is a dangerous area.
my reply to that was that he and I had bothed lived in another city not so far away where the streets really are dangerous, and if he thought this quiet residential area two minutes from a police station was dangerous then he was the one with the problem, not me, I told him he was being irrational and that Christianity was not about forcing people to go in and stay in a place of worship, and that his own people were outside smoking and yet he was raging at me when I came out with a panic attack,
it seems hard to believe that I spoke back to this angry man, but I did, and I was shaking, he went back to his church without another word, and I went to find a church or somewhere where I could get a cup of tea with sugar or something with sugar in as I had had nothing to eat, it was now afternoon and my blood sugar levels were low and I was getting drowsy and dizzy. To make it worse it was a hot sunny day.

I did't find anything to eat or drink, I went back to the cult and drank water from the washbasin in the loos, the lead sister asked if I was ok but wasn't interested in my reply that I was going to collapse unless someone helped me.
Eventually they had tea and coffee time in their worship, and I was able to get sugary tea and biscuits. People kept coming to talk to me but they all wanted to know if I was joining up and if I would be part of the cult, they weren't interested in who I was, why I was there, if I was Christian, or anything. Some of them told me their roles in the cult, but they seemed cold, not friendly.

I went outside to the brothers and sisters who were smoking away and chatting, I asked them why the man had raged at me and not them, a brother said because he's a '.........', I wont repeat any of the language used, but it certainly wasn't christian, the brother went on to give a graphic description of how someone becomes one of what he said the man was, and asked if I would like him to go and slap the man and call him the name he called him, this little group of brothers and sisters are all ex-homeless or vulnerable, and they are quite rough, and they aren't Christians, but the man didn't rage at them, maybe he has given up, maybe he was just enraged how different I am. Anyway, the brothers cheer me up and reassure me. But I am very upset about the man's comments about me being mentally ill.
As the evening turns into a BBQ party, still in the worship place in town and in the yard behind, I ask the lead sister what grounds that man has to make such comments, and she has no adequate answer but tries to calm me and help resolve things, which gains her my respect, she seems so unhappy, even though she has been brought up in the cult and her father was a local farmer and one of the founders of the cult.
She makes phonecalls to find out what times the trains are the next day as I am going back to London as fast as I can.
I eat a burger and have some nice soft drinks but I am still quite upset, upset that the promise of the nice farm and the nice 'family' turns out to be this nightmare. I feel so stupid and ashamed because of the way the man spoke to me.
There is chaos in arranging for people to go back to the farm, and it is late when we get there, bed time, the lead sister tells me that the man who shouted at me is going to take me to the station tomorrow as he is the only one with the credit card to pay for the ticket, I say I am not going anywhere alone with that man, he has a violent drug addict's temper, so the lead sister and another sister say they will come with us, I agree.

The man tries to apologize for his temper yesterday, but I am still very shocked and upset, they give me a ticket and leave me to catch the train, the trains are so crowded that I wait a few trains and return to London feeling like it is the end of the world, I am so drained and hopeless, I thought that it was finally an opportunity of hope and redemption from God, but it wasn't.

A few weeks later I am on the internet and I look them up, a female reporter? posing as a homeless person once went undercover and let this cult pick her up after there had been bad things said about it by homeless people who had been picked up and escaped.
Her report of her experience of the cult was very similar to mine, apart from the fact that her report was done some time ago, when there was a different set of sisters, who seemed a bit happier than the ones there now, but her homeless clothes were looked at with the same disgust as mine were.

Well thats that I think, I don't think I have missed anything out, I still saw them in London singling out vulnerable people after that, but never went near them.

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