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:

Monday, 5 November 2012

Good afternoon peeps,
excuse my silence, I have been a bit busy.

After I had my roast dinner I went fow a wander to find some handwarmers and a cup of tea, I found a cup of tea at a cafe and craftily plugged the netbook in to charge slightly, and I found handwarmers in the outdoor shop, I wish they did fuel tablets as well,  but this winter no one is selling fuel tablets.
I do have a slight internal bleeding problem again, some blood and two small clots, I think this is a reaction to painkillers, it is nothing to worry about but on the other hand it isn't good either.

Then I went to the All souls Service, which is like Holy souls Mass, I think. It didn't work out too well for me as it was crowded and I was already anxious and upset. I got in the door and my friend, who can be a tad tactless, shouted out 'you aren't here to remember anyone are you?' which wasn't true, the Vicar had invited me to remember my Dad, but my friend didn't have me on her list and was being a teeny bit officious. But as a result of her shouting out, the woman behind me in the que decided she had the right to barge me out the way and go ahead of me, which made me very annoyed, and as I sat quietly at the back some man came in and was filming the service without permission and standing too close to me, and so I got up and tried to relocate myself, got backed into a corner and in the end I went and sat outside with my candle and service sheet.

at the end of the service the nice people drew me in to get a cup of tea but I was unsettled, not just by the panic in the service, but by the shock that I mentioned to you the other day.
The shock is that some of the people who abused and harmed me have relocated to this area, and this area is the safe area of my home, and this is my safe church, but they have been allowed to go on practicing in the church and move here. It would only be a matter of time before they found out I was here, then the rest would find out, and basically the whole pack of dogs would rip me apart again and drive me from the salvaged ruins of my home and church and drive me away when I had hoped to settle here and let my bones rest here.

Eventually the Vicar was free to come and talk to me, she hasn't seen me upset before, neither has anyone here. We ended up sitting quietly in the church with the candles glowing on the altar.
It was such a hard thing to say, to tell her I wouldn't be able to come here to this church and all the lovely people. Everyone here is so kind to me.
She asked why and I told her I would be at risk if I came here.
I thought that maybe I could put off the inevitable and stay a bit longer here in my home area if I stopped coming to the church.
But I ended up blurting out what was wrong, and we sat there for a long time while I told her about the abuse and the cover ups and biased investigations and lies and the way I had been criminalised and falsely made out to be mad.
She said she understood and that she would be praying, and that if only I could tell her the names of the people she would ensure they didn't come here.
But I know I can't tell names until I finish my book and my full story can be heard, otherwise I have no chance against the pack of wild dogs if there is any communication about me, and I will still be driven out.

Anyway, I had carried the burden of being silenced and gagged and living in fear fior too long, and now the Vicar is helping me to carry this.

Anyway, when the Vicar had to go home, I went to the other church, where they were plodding through the service and I plodded too. Then someone made me a cuppa and the minister's wife asked if I would like to come to Bible Study on Thursday and there would be soup and tea at the beginning.

Then I made my way out into the cold and busily acclimatised, went to McD's for a cuppa and put my thermals on. Went back and bedded down.
Well my bedding was a bit wet because the flimsy black bags are full of holes, so I had to bed in a way that the wet parts weren't on me, I couldn't get comfortable though, the zip on the sleeping bag is just ridiculous as it undoes itself all the time, and I couldn't settle to sleep on my back and my hips hurt from lying on my sides, my head and neck were uncomfortable and I decided that I need to sort myself out a better bed urgently.
I dozed and woke and dreamed, it was cold but it started raining in the night. I wasn't cold and the rain didn't blow in, I was just uncomfortable trying to keep my bedding round me and rest my head on the backpack which was not comfortable. The handwarmers do generate a lot of heat though.

I got up scratchily at 6am and rebagged the bedding so that it will be drier.
Went to McD's for tea and a bagel, read my book, used my stickers for another tea.
Had a wash.
Had a cuppa at church and said Morning Prayer with the Vicar, she wanted me to get a coat and I told her I needed a sleeping bag more and that the coat had just been a phase and I don't normally wear one.
She gave me £10 towards a new sleeping bag, I was going to get one anyway.

I went over the road and had a shower and chatted to the nice secretary over a cup of tea and some toast, she gave me £5 towards the sleeping bag.
I went into town and scoured the chattery shops for cheap pillows and sleeping bags and coats, but I found nothing much, so I went to the outdoor shop and got a sleeping bag for £25, it is a mummy one unlike the other that was just rectangular, so a mummy one is better, and it has it's own bag, which also helps. So that is a start.

Now I am finally in the library. Going to do some writing.
The weather is nondescript cold.

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