Introduction

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 http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/

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: http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/JJNP

Monday, 5 March 2012

Yesterday was deep deep depression.
I was reading a fascinating book in the library, then I went to the samaritans.

The samaritans are just not worth the bother.
when you go to see the samaritans regularly they get smart alec about it because they keep notes on you and compare notes, I am tired of getting there and meeting new samaritans who I have never seen before but who ask very obvious questions based on what my notes say, I feel like the regular lunatic, the smart alec yesterday said 'have you got any plans for the immediate future then?'
'no', I replied and didn't advise her to ignore what her colleagues say my blog says, they read my blog, no, they do, and that means I cannot have a peaceful and anonymous chat at the samaritans here, moving on will help with that, cos the next lot won't get my blog address. The samaritans here have told me they read my blog. But I am tired of sitting with someone who doesn't want to be there and who has read the rubbish that the samaritans write about me. In London I resorted to using a different name every time after a samaritan told me the incorrect things that had been written about me.


The weather is bad, stormy, high winds and heavy rain, I got soaked walking from the bus to the local church, who had cancelled their evening service, and then back to the summerhouse.

In the summerhouse  I changed into thermals and wrapped up in blankets to dry out, fell asleep with no supper. Woke at 3am from a dream where I was playing pranks with balloons in the library and laughing, woke up and crashed back into despair.

The wind and rain were howling round the summerhouse but I was too hot, water was coming in and soaking my blankets and pillows.
I got up and peed and put the kettle on and tried to rest but I was wide awake, I ended up listening to the radio and writing a letter and drinking too much tea, couldn't even doze, I will be tired today.
The wind blew me to Mcd's for porrige at 6am and I will be heading into town shortly.

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