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, 19 February 2012

last night I walked home, it was quite a hard walk but I made it, I had enough milk to make tea and I tried to cook a tin of sausage and beans on the hexamine burner but it didn't cook well.

It was very cold and windy outside and I cuddled down in the blankets with the radio on softly to drown out the crashing wind.

I slept but I had the saddest dream ever, I dreamed that I was standing outside my Dad's study door and I could hear dad crying inside the study, I knocked on the door and asked if he was ok, I asked if I could come in and give him a hug, I went in and he was sitting on his wheeled chair where he spent most of his last two years, I hugged him and it seemed to comfort him but the chair kept wheeling away beyond my reach while dad looked helpless, in the dream his disability was not a stroke but a badly damaged back and I wondered vaguely about back transplants.

I woke up crying in the early morning and phoned the samaritans, I got through to a gruff northern man, they are always the best to speak to, and I told him about my dad and my family and the dream, then when I finished speaking to him I made tea with the last of the milk.

Then I went to check the times of the services at the local church, and got there in time for 8am communion which contained the worst sermon I ever heard, then I came back to my summerhouse for a wash and breakfast,
then back to the church for the next round, the next service was too crowded and noisy for my migraine so I went outside but someone came out and chatted to me and took me back in to the foyer area and got me hot drinks and a food parcel including some milk, so that was ok.

Then I came back to the summerhouse to sort my things out, I sat there and sorted my things and cleaned and cleared up, the lady who owns the summerhouse appeared with some mail for me and gave me a kind of message about my friend who I fell out with, it sounds like things are getting better :)
The letters are helpful but there are two missing, I wonder why they haven't arrived, one in my benefits money, so I will need to do something tomorrow.
Today I am not walking into town but tomorrow I will.
It is nice to rest, I have food here and it is freezing outside.

I went over the road to try and access wifi in the travel terminal but it wouldn't connect, so I washed my hair in the disabled toilet washbasin and dried it under the drier.

I really am having a food allergy problem, hives and upset stomach :(

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