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

Sunday, 11 December 2011

I feel really bad, the depression is winning. Last night the main library closed at 5pm, so I went to drop off a Chritsmas card or two.
I decided, stupidly, to spend another night in the bed and breakfast because I felt too stupid with depression to look after myself outdoors and keep lookout and keep warm etc, I went to the bed and breakfast and watched some Christmas music on tv, things like this only make me feel bad because the church don't think I deserve any good things, they think I should be locked in a cell, I live in terror of them even now.

The night was full of nightmares and I woke at 3am struggling with depression, I had dreamed church and abuse and injustice and I slept again and dreamed about my family and the island, there we all were on the island, my family were borrowing my boat, as usual they ignored my weak little voice when I told them to launch from the pier, they tried to launch into crashing waves on the slipway and capsized and ruined the boat.
I woke up not wanting to get up, the depression of bad memories of the church that will never go, memories crashing over me like the waves over the capsized boat. Indoors will never work for me, and yet outdoors in the beginning of winter is hard to get used to and hard to live in if you are depressed.

Here I am, I feel awful, the way the diocese treated me will never heal. The person they made me into and their denial of responsibility will kill me.

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