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:

Wednesday, 14 December 2011

When it comes to feelings and memories coming up strongly as they are doing at the moment, I cannot write very easilt, I am too angry, too upset, too hopeless, I feel invalidated by the church and nothing I say or do is valid in their eyes, it makes me worthless and not-human.

I woke up this morning wondering why, really why the church were allowed to go on interfering in my life after they lost me my home, why they were allowed to go on traumatising me and getting me brutalised by the police for my reaction as I repeatedly asked them to stop.

If the church were to read this they would scornfully say that I am 'dwelling on the past' as they did a few months after the abuse as I continued to be traumatised by the abuser's denials to the community.

If I wake up in distress I am not deliberately dwelling on anything, and the distress comes from my subconscious sleeping brain, and since the church have affected my life in a terrible way that will affect me forever including leaving me permenantly homeless, how is that in the past? It is very current and affects my whole life in many ways every day.

The inequality of power that allows the church to treat ubuse victims as they please in order to achieve what they want is very real.

The church's interference that left me unable to be housed isn't considered harassment by the police, and yet my reaction to it is.
I will never be able to live indoors because of the processes, the disclosures against me, the shame and most of all, my distress at being indoors. And if I lived indoors, who would I be with the shattered pieces of my life left behind long ago in the island? There is no future for me, no work, no volunteering, no point in trying to get my education, nothing but the huge labels that the church have stuck on me, the only way I can survive is outdoors.

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