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

Tuesday, 9 October 2012

Good morning bloggypeeps,
It is a beautiful morning here, just starting to get light, cold and clear, ah beautiful!

Well yesterday I got the train, these trains are very crowded especially at the weekend.

I got a seat, to my surprise, and my seat had a television screen! nyarr, the television was a bit too limited, nothing watchable, but there was a moving map to show where the train was on the route, a bit like aeroplanes have. and it showed the speed of the train -which averaged 110 mph, and also the altitude, which is of no interest at all.

But suddenly my stomach violently clenched, I have never felt anything quite like it, it was a shockingly tight clench and went to my chest as well and I wondered if I was having a heart attack.
It unclenched a bit but felt horrifyingly abnormal.

I went to be sick in the toilet, when I got back someone had taken my seat, despite my backpack being there, and he didn't want to give the seat back, I told him I had had to go to be sick and wasn't well and needed to sit, he replied that if I was sick I should go and stand in the corridor by the toilet, and I replied that I was sick and disabled and standing in the corridor in this state was not going to help me, but he didn't care, so I got the next seat and asked the stewardess if she had any sick bags, she was very kind and got me some brown bags and bottles of water and said that if  I needed anything I should just call her.

As soon as people got off at the next station, the rude man who took my seat got up and moved right up the carriage and so I had my seat back.
I wasn't sick again but I felt very ill and my temperature was going up and down again.
We arrived in London and as soon as I got off the train I found someone's driving licence on the ground and handed it in.

Then I had to work out how to cross London.
I had enough loose change for a single underground ticket but the underground was partially closed, and all the stations that I needed were closed. For engineering work, and even trying to get into the stations to enquire was difficult because it was packed out with lost and bewildered travellers.

So I found a bus stop and a bus that headed in the direction of my destination though didn't arrive exactly where I needed to go. I had no idea how I was going to get further along once this bus reached it's terminus.

It was a long ride, and technically I was already late for the start of the day I was heading to, though no-one would be counting, I just needed my friend to know I was on my way and struggling to get there, but she switches her phone off when she is there.

Anyway, the bus went on and on and I started feeling sick again, for most of the way no one sat with me, but then it got crowded and a family came to sit and a little girl sat with me, I was terrified in case I was sick.
The little girls were so excited to be on the bus, they were watching in amazement as the glass elavators went up in the buildings that we passed.

and then towards the end of the long bus route we came to an intersection and a bus was crossing and it had the name of my destination on, I hurriedly jumped off the bus and went back to the intersection and found a bus stop, the buses were every 10 minutes.
The problem was money, a lot of buses in London only take pre-paid tickets or travel cards, I wasn't sure how much money I had left, and there was no ticket machine in sight.

I counted my money and found that in small change I had enough for a single ticket if I was allowed to buy it on the bus. I was worried. Some buses are not allowed to accept small change.

A bus came and I was really nervous to ask the driver. I asked if I was allowed to pay a cash fare and he smiled and said yes, I asked if he could accept small change and he smiled and said yes.
so I was on the bus!

It was still a 17 minute journey.
And I finally arrived, 2 hours late technically, but no worries, I had missed mass but there was food, soup and rolls, and I drank nearly half a bottle of pop as well.
My friend came and sat on the wall out of the hustle and bustle as we chatted and caught up on things.

Most people were now on work tasks such as cleaning and gardening, but my friend had opted out, she usually gardens, as I do when I am fit, but for some reason I can't remember, she had opted out and was not on duty, neither was I, and we simply sat and drank pop and tea and talked for a long time.

Then it was time for a talk, led by one of the Fathers, it was a good talk. But I had to run to the loo a few times, I wish my insides would sort themselves out!
Then it was tea break, and the Holy Hour.
Holy Hour was good, but there wasn't enough time for me to go to confession, so my friend collared the Father who I have seen for confession in the past and asked him to see me later.
No escape, I get dragged to confession by my ear by this friend! :)
Confession always refreshes me.

Well after Holy Hour, is supper, the most important thing, it is a vigil mass type supper, so we start off by sharing bread and wine and individually saying thank You to God for whatever we have to be grateful for.
I thank God for looking after me and keeping me safe and bringing me back to this haven of peace yet again.

And then supper, served to us by the Brothers. We have a delicious chicken curry and rice, with lots of nice salad and bread.
There is plenty of pop and wine and even beer I think, and lots of cake for dessert.

Then it is getting late, my friend has to take two ladies home and then she comes back for me and two others. One of the ladies has given her a small box of chocolates and she gives those to me.

So we set off, we drop the two other ladies off on the outskirts of London where they live after losing our way a few times, and we head onwards to where she will drop me off, she wants me to come and stay with her and her husband at some point, maybe next time, but not this time, I think they have a lot on their minds at the moment. I am worried for them because I know what is on their minds.

But I am heading somewhere else this time anyway.
She drops me off at the station and I run for the last train and realise I am a few minutes earlier than I thought. So I go to change into my thermals, I manage the leggings before my train is announced.
I grab my things and dive onto the train with my shoelaces undone.

These trains are usually packed with drunks, it is midnight on a Saturday, fortunately it is not as bad as last time, and I find a seat.I get up to put my thermal top on in the toilet, and come back and my seat hasn't been pinched.

The train stops at my hometown, the star shines brightly above it, but it wouldn't be safe to get off the train here, wouldn't do me any good. It would be the end of me.

I wish I could come back to you
I wish I could come home

I change trains at the next station, and again the drunk train is bearable and we arrive at about 1am in the morning.
I walk down to the burger van and get a cuppa off the dodgy blokes there, they get too interested and they sometimes ask me to come and work for them, I think they may be involved in some dodgy stuff but at least they do hot tea at 1am. Today they are too busy to pester me. Lots of drunk people ordering kebabs.

I walk up and look in the chattery shop bins, no blankets, nothing soft or warm.
I go on and look for cardboard, I find some wet duvets in a bin that I look in for cardboard,

By 1.17 on Sunday morning I was bedded down with what cardboard I had gathered, which wasn’t enough, the ground sheet and my sleeping bag with no zip being used as a blanket, and I slept lightly, waking at 3am to go to the toilet and put a foil blanket round me, I must get some more of those.
I slept lightly again until the alarm went off at 5.30am and I stayed on the ground a while, not really warm enough, I got up at 6am and sorted and stashed things.

I am always happy when I wake up here. This is where I should be.
A beautiful clear morning, still dark and the stars shining, lovely. I head off towards McDonalds but I realise it is an ideal time to treasure hunt, a Sunday morning and the street sweepers haven’t yet been, I hunt around for coins dropped by the revellers and find 61p, which is better than nothing.


Dawn begins to break in the east, and I begin to wake up properly, I have had enough sleep to keep me through the day but I am always a bit dozy first thing.
I realise that I am home.

No land's ever claimed me
though far did I roam
for it's here that my heart lies
and I have come home

This is as close as I can safely get to coming home, a brief visit here and there to this end of my home land, I cannot go any further into my homeland safely, but I am always happy for a brief and risky visit.

I see that the church has fencing round the tower, oh dear, that must be falling masonry again.
I go to McD’s and get a cuppa and sit typing until the battery goes dead.
Then it is time to head to church for 8am communion.
The curate greets me but the Vicar is away, the stand in priest comes and shakes hands as the curate has told him my name.

Communion is very well attended, 15 or 20 people. Many of them know my name but I always forget names as I am away too much.
After communion the church warden offers to make me a cuppa, the curate comes along to catch up with my news and asks if I need a cuppa, at the same time as someone else asks, I tell them that the church warden is making the tea.
I am impressed by their caring.
A lovely old chap who is often here comes to greet me and takes my hands, he tells me he is sorry the Vicar is away and she will be sorry to miss me, I say that the vicar is having a very well deserved holiday, and he agrees, he tells me that the Vicar thinks a lot of me and recently did a sermon about me.
Wow! I am amazed, surely I am not notorious enough to be the subject of a sermon!

I drink my tea and my friend comes in and greets me, we talk about books with a member of the choir as she and I are both writing books, then I excuse myself to go and have my wash.
I have my wash and walk on down the road, over the roundabout and under the bridge, along to my other church for the main service.

I stop to pick some lavender at the gate and rub it to get some scent, the minister sees me as he walks across the car park and he grins and comes to hug me ‘You’ve picked the right day’ he tells me, it’s the harvest service and we are having a buffet lunch afterwards!’
We go in to the church and I have arrived quite early so I have a cup of tea and wait.

The service is good, as usual, this is one place where I feel completely relaxed and happy in worship, with almost no flashbacks.
There is a little toddler girl who doesn’t go out for Sunday School, she wanders round and round, in and out of the band and the harvest tables and chatters happily, she is not a nuisance or a distraction, she just makes a happy church happier.

We have communion and the little girl plays with everyone including me, and her parents who are new are officially accepted as members of the church. Lovely, we are all happy and it is good to be here.
The lunch afterwards is a scrumptious feast and I am happy to be here with my beloved people.
The minister and his wife come up quietly and ask if I would like to come home for a shower and to sort my things that I have stashed in their garage, and I say yes please.

So we set off home and I have a shower and a nose at my things in their garage, the best thing is that I have a small duvet and a cushion here and I need these.
I end up staying and we sit and watch television and have some tea and toast, and then it is time for evening church, they ask if I would like to sleep in the conservatory for the night and because I am so tired I say yes.

We go to the evening service which is tea and biscuits and lots of laughing alongside a good solid worship and preaching, they say a prayer for me as they sometimes do, and I always feel a bit honoured and overwhelmed by this. It is good to see some old friends there and I show them the card that they gave me a long time ago that I still carry in my wallet, it says 'You'll find shelter beneath the wings of Almighty God' on it.

Then we head back and have some more supper and watch more television, the minsister says that they would like me to be a member of the church and for them as a church to take responsibility for me, he says they all love me. I am not sure I understand the responsibility thing, I have to take responsibility for myself, and when I have let church people be responsible for me before it has damaged me so much, I do love this church but my faith and fellowship is not just with them, there are other churches and commitments in my life, but I am deeply honoured that they want me. Very honoured.

And then it is bed time, I lie down on the floor with my duvet and cushion and I sleep.
I wake up in the morning as it is getting light but because I am not sleeping rough it is tempting to stay lying there, the minister’s wife softly wakes me to tell me I should get the loo before her husband has his wash as he takes ages.
I dash to the loo, the minister’s wife is having her quiet time so I go and lie down for a bit longer until the minister tells me to shift my lazy bones.
We have a nice breakfast and then they start persuading me to wear a coat, they provide a coat as an incentive, so I guess I will wear a coat.

We head for the church, the rain during the night has shown up some leaks, so busy operations and patching up are going on, I help with some light bulb changes and shifting the harvest goods from church to car so that they can go to the basics bank, then we have a good old cup of tea and bicuit.
Then we head down to the basics bank to drop the harvest goods off, and we laugh because my friend runs the basics bank and I may be one of the ones who actually comes and gets some of these goodies at a later date.
Then we go shopping and home for lunch, the I start writing. I get a chunk of the book written.

The minister and I exchange some flippant remarks at some point and then he tells me that I should move to this district so we can talk more.
I tell him I will move here next year and he snorts as if I am joking, but I am not.

They want me to stay another night and I agree because they are so kind, I can't really turn them down just because I want my porch. Part of being in this area is the delight of my porch and the solitude, I love my porch and sleeping areas, I love brewing coffee and cooking tins on the stove, I love the early mornings wandering the streets, I love my other various assorted people and activities here, but because this couple want me to stay a bit I will leave everything else until next time, which also means no internet access so I am writing the blog on the word processor to transfer it to the blog once I am back online.

One of the ladies in church has given me a sleeping bag and a poncho.
I am going to write her a thank you letter because she is a lovely lady, she always makes me a cuppa and tries to feed me biscuits and cakes.

The minister gets me a cup of tea and a biscuit at bed time and I tuck down to sleep in my new sleeping bag on their conservatory floor.
I sleep well and dream of air stewardesses and Australia, I think I am in someone else's dream!
I wake in the early morning, it is raining lightly, I wander to the loo and then I suddenly worry about my alarm on my phone going off and waking everyone because I have left it in my backpack in the spare room.
I go to check and startle the poor minister who is already awake.
He goes to have his wash and I go back to the conservatory and doze off again until I am told to get my lazy bones off the floor.

There are flashbacks and bad memories just as there are always are when I am indoors, but now they are faint so I can struggle them aside.
The minister asks if I mean it about coming back to live, and if God really did indicate that that will happen. Yes, my bones will rest here in this district (or my ashes if possible), this is my home and when God has mercy I want to come home.

We have breakfast and then I sort my things out and leave some things there and take get my bags ready, and then I say goodbye to the minister's wife and the minster drives me to the station to drop me off, I show him the process of getting a ticket because he doesn't like or know about such things and we say goodbye. And then I walk straight onto the train.

As usual I am sorry to have to leave, but I have no choice at the moment, the depression didn't really allow me to feel joy at being here this time, and I haven't done all my usual things, but it has been comforting to once again come safely home.

The train hurries on it's way, past the home of my childhood, past where my sister attempted suicide, past where I attempted suicide, and on through a place of sad and bad memories that haven't healed. Onwards and then to a station where I change trains, I am out of the memories zone when we get there, the memories of that place should be happy, but sadly they are horrifying, I cannot see the joy and love for my homeland through the horror and grief, so I read my book until we reached the point where I change trains, and then it is onwards to London.
The trains for the whole journey are stress free and quiet enough for me, and I read my book and eat my sandwiches.
We arrive in London and fortunately the onward ticket I already have allows an underground jouney so I cross London from one main station to another easily.

I get to the main station that I need and I look at train times, I could run for one that goes in two minutes or I could wait half an hour. So I wait, I get some more cheap sandwiches as I wait.
I get on the train, and again it is not too crowded, it is good to travel on a weekday at non-peak time.
I have a seat by the luggage rack and stow my luggage, occasionally I get tap water to drink, it is not meant for drinking, but I need water. I hang my head out the window here and there as we go, and no one nicks my seat.
I am not sick, I am not couging much, no upset stomach, nothing wrong today apart from the infection in my foot.

Finally we arrive, and I feel love and irritation as usual for this town.
I walk up to town, the gallery isn't open today, I use the last of my money on a cup of tea at the market, I am now going to rely on soup kitchen for my next meal and hot drink.

And here I am in the library.

V. is in the library, he looks different and he hasn't spoken to me yet.

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