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:

Thursday, 5 January 2012

last night I went to collect some clothes from my stashplace, I expected them to be missing, I expected the rest of my bedding to be missing, but everything was still there. It was cold and raining so I hurried to the bed and breakfast.
I put my thermals and spare fleece and teeshirt in the bath and washed them and hung them up to dry.
I am glad that my childhood taught me how to handwash clothes.

I put the DVD on and sorted out my backpack, got rid of all the rubbish and packed all the new things in, it is quite a heavy backpack now.

I had the luxury of sorting out my medicine for the evening and the morning, little piles of medicines, it can be very difficult to do medicines at night when sleeping rough, trying to find and take medicines in the dark at bedding down time is difficult.

I had a bath as well and watched a few minutes of DVD and fell asleep.
The only dreams I had were vague, one about being thirsty and drinking orange juice, and one that I have frequently about local people hearing about me from the diocese and jeeringly calling me by my old name.

I woke up in the early morning needing the toilet, I went back to bed but the alarm went off soon after and I managed to knock the phone onto the floor again so the battery came out. I dozed off and woke wondering how late it was, I went to the main kitchen and saw I had plenty of time, so I made peanut butter on toast and had a shower and finished sorting myself out.

Again I was in no real pain when I woke, just too warm and tired from being too warm, when i left the bed and breakfast the walk into town was an effort, it always is when I have been indoors, I end up so hot and kind of floaty and tired with it.
I wonder if the regular painkillers and anti-inflammatories are helping to prevent me waking up in pain in thed bed and breakfast?

I am back in the library, blogging, my stuff is in the locker, I wonder if I should stash some of the heavier stuff somewhere in order to keep the backpack light.
I had a missed call from a witheld number, usually that means the doctor's surgery but I worry because I remember the diocese and the police, that brute safeguarding official used to make calls to me on a witheld number.

I really want a cat, because they purr.

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