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, 16 August 2012

On Monday evening I continued my walking challenges and walked a few miles to the out of town soup kitchen, it wasn't worth the walk.
I got back to my sleeping place early and slept, my friend is staying indoors with his friend, so he is not in his porch at the moment.
Tuesday: My money is running out, I get a cuppa at McD's and get my meds from my locker, I go to the daycentre and take part in messy paint-ey art class, then I go to where my friend is picking me up, we drive to the place we are having a picnic, it is a big old manor house with parkland and deer.

We have a lovely picnic and I roll down the hill a few times -which I regret later - a combination of the nursie massaging my injury sites and the rolling triggers pain and migraines.

Anyway, after the picnic we go and have a nice cup of tea and then we go to look round the manor house which is a museum, then we have ice creams. We see the deer and I try to get some pictures on my new old camera phone.

My friends give me some money to keep me going, I never ask or expect anything.

I go back to my friends' house and we watch a movie and have supper.

Then I go to my sleeping place, bed down and sleep with just a wake up in the early hours again.
I wake in the morning feeling like I have been run over by a tram, I ache all over and am in pain, damn hill rolling, I must grow up one day! :(

I stagger down to the tram line and get the tram into town and get a cuppa at McD's, I go and sit by the church and my friend comes for communion and I go with her, after communion she offers to buy me breakfast, so we go to a cafe and I have a bacon roll and tea and she has a cappucino.

Then I go to the daycentre and make a nuisance of myself for a while. Then I go to the homeless drop in at the church. I end up chatting to the female nursie there.

Then I go back to the daycentre for lunch.
The staff warn me that the weather is going to be terrible tonight. So I text my friend and take up her offer of letting me sleep in the garage.
She says she will collect me later.

I make my way to the library and suddenly start feeling very ill, my belly hurts, I feel sick.
It is torrentially raining and I take up residence in a toilet cubicle in the library until it is time to go and meet my friend.

I think I will be ok now, feling better. I get soaked waiting for my friend. We get to her house and she starts thinking about supper while we watch a game show, and then I start being sick.

I was sick a lot, fortunately always in the toilet or a bowl. There is a bit of blood as well.
I had a bath and was sick some more and my friends ask me if I want to sleep in the front room, which seems sensible under the circumstances, I lie down and sleep on the floor in a pile of bedding, there is a window open but the house seems too hot and dry for me and I am aching and queasy and ill.
I sleep and dream, something about Woolwich, where the hell is Woolwich and why am I dreaming about it? I have funny dreams, the other night I dreamed I was holding the olympic flame but it was a candle and it melted and I asked the people around me if any of them wanted it as a souvenier.

I got up and felt dreadful again but I wasn't sick, I had a cup of tea, but I didn't want food.
My friend dropped me off in town, I had a meeting at the daycentre with safeguarding because of the bogus counsellor man, the meeting was short and sweet, he has had a slap on the wrist and the church are aware of things, that is the end of the matter. Phew.

I had another cuppa but no breakfast, and a shower, then computers, then went to see the nursie about being sick with blood, as I thought it is nothing new, just the usual.

I feel queasy, I think I need morte tea, and a 100 mile train journey.

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