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:

Saturday, 10 December 2011


It is bitter cold outdoors, I delight in the cold and the fresh air and freedom from the church, but with the unending nightmares it is hard to believe I am out of their damaging grip. It has been maybe four months since their last devastating attack on my life and if I live it will be many years before I really have any hope of recovery and normal life.
When I was first homeless, the doctor said that maybe in three or four years I would start to recover, even at the time and for almost a year after that the church continued their devastating and traumatic assault on my life in order to defend themselves and make out that they were 'helping me',

What I don't understand is one fundemental truth 'why if they were helping me was I being seriously harmed and driven from help by them and my cries for them to stop were ignored and deemed harrasment?' How could they have been helping me by using someone I had complained about to come after me and violate my friendships, why if they were helping me did they slander me to the homeless services and prevent me from accessing help? why if they were helping me did they try to have me sectioned for my cries of anguish at their continued unwanted interventions?

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