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:

Friday, 4 November 2011

Deeply stressed

Well nothing is going right at the moment, being a stroppy Autistic person probably doesn't help, but it would help if other people didn't do what they shouldn't.

last night I went to the takeaway, it normally closes at 8pm and gives me the leftovers. last night they were open till 9 because of some festival, so I was hungry and at a loose end. I went to the Samaritans and saw a nice Samaritan who made me a cup of tea even though it isn't this branch's policy.

Then I went back to the takeaway. They had loads of leftovers, they insisted on packing up eight tubs of food and two spring rolls for me! I am happy with just one tub of food. I usually try to get rice or noodles.

I wandered about and then settled down to eat, I ate the rice that I like and which is enough for a meal for me, and some spicy chicken, and then some noodles, and so I was full.

I was reluctant to go down to soup kitchen and the camp and hand out the rest of the food, but I found one of the Big Issue sellers and hurriedly handed him the food and scarpered before he could object.

It was getting late, almost time for soup kitchen when I started walking back to my bed, so I decided to head for soup kitchen to get a cuppa, which I did, but one of the protesters 'wanted to talk to me', I didn't want to talk, so I said so.

I went back to my bed, but as I bedded down it started raining, just as it did yesterday. I was under the fire escape but not completely sheltered, and though I tried to keep myself from getting wet, by 2am the water was running down onto where I slept and blowing in with the wind and dripping down off the fire escape and I was getting very wet.

The only place I could think of to sleep in was a church porch nearby, usually a bit too vulnerable and with the risk of being moved on, but at 2am on a rainy night it was worth a try, I abandoned my wet bedding and took my still dry backpack and shawl and got some cardboard.
I was a bit wet and a bit cold but not too cold, I sat on my cardboard and wrapped in the shawl, then I had to get back up and go to the loo, then I settled down again and lit my hexamine burner and brewed the last of my coffee while trying to dry my sleeves and Patrick with the flame. When the coffee was done then I wrapped the hot saucepan and hexamine burner in cardboard and put them on my legs to dry my jeans. (this is safer than it sounds).
It was 3am and there were a number of drunks staggering home nearby, but no one saw me, the birds were beginning to sing hopefully, as if they could make the dawn come, the rain stopped shortly after I sheltered, and began again as I settled down, blowing into the porch so I moved right to the back, against the church doors.

It was 5am when the temperature started to rise and I was beginning to dry out and fell asleep, and woke again at 7am, market time.
I didn't have any money for a hot drink, but was relieved to get to the market toilets. the rain continued.

I went to the daycentre to ask if they had a sleeping bag, this is the daycentre that I stopped going to after the medical centre involved them in trying to set social services on me. I found when I got there that they and the medical centre had been continuing to create problems for me, to cut a long story short, and I went hopping mad and told the medical centre - who are no longe rmy practice - that this was to stop.
I am very raw and bruised by what has happened this morning, it is not right at all, but I cannot go into details at the moment.
I am contacting the General Medical Council about this.

So here I am, I haven't had a cup of tea yet and I have had a really rotten 12 hours, so I am going to get a cup of tea and hope things wont get worse.

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