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, 24 March 2012

I am having bad flashbacks today. I tried to go to church and pray for comfort but it didn't work.

As I walked out of the library I was greeted by someone from one of the church, he asked what people often ask, if I had found somewhere to live, I explained to him that I don't live indoors and that is my life. He accepted that and said that the church could probably help me more, they have a shower and things that they can make arrangements for me to use, I said I would come tomorrow and talk with them about it.
He invited me to a meeting this afternoon and said that there would be tea and biscuits, but I wasn't sure about the meeting so I didn't go.

I had a jacket potato at the other church because they were having a fair instead of a coffee morning, several people there greeted me and chatted.

I miss so much out of the blog sometimes. I have discovered that tooth brushes are the best thing to remove dried clotted blood from under earrings, my ears react to the earrings and the sun and get sore and grumpy and my earrings also catch on my rough bedding as I bed down at night and they get pulled and hurt my ears.
when you see homeless people with holes and ragged bits in their clothes, it can come from sleeping and inhabiting rough places, my clothes and bedding are torn by brambles and trees when I go to get my bedding at night.

I hate enduring the weekends, there is nothing to do and nowhere to go, I am trying hard to drown the memories of sailing and the island that keep overwhelming me just as the church cruelty does, my abuser will be out there sailing, my old friends will be out there sailing, and I am here condemned and I will never have a home again let alone do the things I used to do.

Excuse my self pity, but most of the time I try to hide the hurt and the memories but sometimes I cannot.

It is now a warm sunny day here.

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