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:

Sunday, 29 January 2012

Here is the catchup for the last few days

It was a cold clear evening on Thursday, I went back to the summerhouse area and went to the loo at the travel terminal, then I walked in the clear cold darkness, I wasn’t cold,  I found the cold refreshing, helping to calm me and cool me down. I stopped at the shop for a pint of milk and wondered why I had walked so far when it hurts me, but I want to be able to walk, to stop being crippled.

I sat on the floor of the summerhouse in the cold dark, knowing that if the lady came round she would tell me to put the heater on, because she doesn’t know about people who need cold sometimes.

I bedded down and dreamed about a trial, a trial between the church and me and amazingly I was actually winning.
But then the nightmare came, I dreamed that the summerhouse was being attacked by aggressive people and dogs, there was no escape as they launched an attack, then they backed off and I escaped the summerhouse and ran and jumped over garden sheds and fences to safety.
I woke up in a hypersomnia stupour, woke up late and sleepy, not good, I need to get going, and even taking my meds seems to take forever, I didn’t have a proper wash, I just got going, and arrived in town later than I wanted, I picked up a repeat prescription from the surgery and didn’t stop to put it in at the chemists, I headed to the station instead as I wanted to get going.
I got to the station and got the first available train. The journey was ok, and I had my wash in the train toilet and spent most of the journey with my head out ther train window, at one point I went to the rescue of a young woman who was physically disabled and was struggling with a faulty automatic door, she was really nice and seemed to understand my need to live in the corridor with my head out the window.
As soon as the train got to the edge of London I hopped off and onto a tube train and was away to Oxford street.
I got off at Oxford street and went straight to the hairdressers, I got an appointment by the skin of my teeth and it wasn’t until 3.30, so  had a lot of waiting to do in a part of London where there is nothing to do.
In case it sounds posh, I don’t go to a hairdresser in Oxford street, I go to the haidressing school in Soho and they used to charge nothing but now they ask a £3 donation.
Anyway, I went and had a pot of tea and a wander around, and went to see if my friend was there, but she is away because her mum is in hospital, what a disappointment, and then I went back for my haircut, a new and nervous trainee did my hair, it took an hour and a quarter but generally it looks ok. So at 4.45 I was facing the tube journey from Oxford circus to waterloo, I got through Oxford circus ok and caught an uncrowded Bakerloo tube and got to waterloo without any stress, wearing my London head again, and believe it or not London is easier to move about in than the crowded town that I am spending the winter in.
I walk outside waterloo station and wonder if my freind will be sitting there, no, it is too early and it is winter, he will be somewhere warm rather than sitting there like he used to.
I got a ticket and caught my next train, On it rattled through the dusk and dark, until we stopped at a familiar town that had a star shining above it, how I wished I could just get off the train here, but that would make life unbearable and put me at risk from the brutal untruthful and vicious diocese and it wouldn’t be the happy ever after that I dreamed of.
So I stay on the train and it goes on down to sanctuary and I get off and start thinking about where to sleep in the cold night, I find somewhere to stay and manage to sleep comfortably despite the distress that continues to overwhelm me, I have a feeling that one of the medications I am on is making the distress and bad memories harder to control, though nothing will take them away until I am free of the condemnation of the church.
I shower and sort myself out and walk into town, and I see a load of people working in my favourite churchyard, so I go over and the vicar recognizes me and decides that it is coffee time for all the churchyard clearup volunteers.
The vicar asks how I have been and I tell her I have been fine, she makes me a cuppa and I ask if I can join in the fun, so I end up sweeping and clearing and in the end I take tree roots out and do heavy work, but this makes me painful and sick.
There is a good soup lunch with bread and cakes and the vicar gives me the leftovers to take.
Then I head for another church that looks after a stash for me, some of my stash has got wet and mouldy in it’s place, but they have covered the rest with a compost bag, I take toiletries and blankets and put the rest in the dustbins and leave them a note to say I have taken my stash.
Then I head for the trains to go back to the town where I am spending the winter, I am reluctant but I have come all this way driven by distress and dissociation and  do not have my stove or enough bedding with me, even getting back to the winter town or my summerhouse will be hard.
We are just arriving back into London. I feel sick, I was sick of a lot of my lunch.

Someone who read my blog the other day said they didn’t understand it, I was left feeling utterly useless and deflated, they said it wasn’t in chronological order, but it is, you just have to start from the beginning with either of the blogs in order to understand them.
In London I got off the train, wandered about a bit and got a cup of tea at McD’s, then I crossed the thames and got the bus to the station to catch my train back to my winter town.
I was lucky, I got to the station expecting to get the quarter-past train, and followed the announcements to the platform, when I got there there was a train and a guard standing at the end directing people in the door at the end, which I thought was a bit strange for a train that didn’t leave for 10 minutes, as soon as I got on the train it started moving and I was alarmed, I went and found the guard and asked if I had got the wrong train, I hadn’t, I had just got a faster train than the one that I had expected to get.
The train rocketed along, it will still be late evening before I get to my town. But I enjoyed hanging my head out the window.
Some horrible selfish person decided that the no-smoking signs were a joke though and kept coming out to smoke in the corridor so I was choking on his smoke and having trouble breathing, I went looking for a guard but only found the canteen lady who said she would tell the guard, I doubt that she did, but I moved along to a smoke free part of the corridor.
It was freezing cold with the train window open, the temparature has gone down sharply, it will be freezing tonight.
We arrived in the town at last, I walked up to the church shed to leave my bags there for a while, then I was being followed by the creepy man from soup kitchen so I hid and waited till he walked past me and stopped in confusion and then I told him what I thought of him following me.
I went back into town and met one of my Big Issue friends, the one who wanted to go out with me, I told him that the creepy man had been following me, and he said he would keep an eye on things, we walked down to soup kitchen but it was too early, so I had a walk around the bins, I am not going to be able to get to the summerhouse tonight as it is too late for buses, so I am going to beg blankets off soup kitchen.
I walk up to where soup kitchen are preparing, and they give me a tatty sleeping bag with a broken zip.
When soup kitchen is set up I get tea and sandwiches, and then they bring jacket potatos out. Yummy. They find me some more blankets and a hat, scarf and gloves, things I only wear at night normally.
I sit with my Big Issue friend and another girl who is his friend, we sit near soup kitchen on some blankets as when I go over to soup kitchen the creep follows me from one side to another and back again. The soup kitchen people are very nice and bring things over to us.
Eventually my friend walks me down to the end of the road to ensure that I am not followed, and I head to my sleeping place alone.
I try my best to tuck down and keep warm in the limited bedding that I have with me, but it is a freezing night and in all I get about four or five hours of sleep.
I stay in the blankets and doze for some time after I wake up though, but not really in a stupor and terrors, just tired.
I get up, my feet are cold for the only time this winter, and the rest of me is not too warm either. There is wet cold sleet falling.
I go down to the warm toilets and have a wash and do my meds and change out of the smelly thermals that I put on last night in order to try and keep warm, and then I head for church and drink three cups of tea as I wait for the service, and I eat a saved sandwich from soup kitchen.
Then it is time for the service, which is good, this church doesn’t hurt me.
Then there is more tea afterwards, and biscuits, and now I am here.

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