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:

Sunday, 31 March 2013

Hi peeps,
Here I am, trying to do a normal update post.

On Good friday I came back up to the city and hid in my bolthole. I cannot remember much except that I slept and woke at 2am on Easter Saturday, coughing blood and infection.
I was very distressed by the recent church intervention and I started writing, I wrote to the church and police, no explosive abusive traumatised anger, just cold grey despairing pleas to be left alone.
Time rushed by and I didn't sleep again as night became morning.

In the end I had my breakfast and left, spent the day enjoying the city, I will never tire of it, I love this city and always have.
In the evening though, there were crowds from a football match and I had to wait and raid the bins before I could go home.

Once home I happily mooched about in the fairly quiet saturday evening, and eventually and fairly early, I got my blankets, went to my corner and tucked down and set my clock an hour forward, I slept, sometimes waking slightly to drunken shouts nearby, but I slept until 3am, and woke a bit cold and stiff and bursting for the loo.
After using the wall, I tucked back in and dozed because I was worried about oversleeping.
I woke early and had a headache and stiffness from cold and from an uncomfortable backpack pillow.

I packed my things and wandered them into the hedge and hobbled down to McD's, I did thank Jesus that he died and rose again to save us from our sins, but I felt very grumpy and painful and not very grateful or praiseful.

In McD's I had a cuppa, and then another as I had enough stickers, and I sat and dozed and felt pleased that McD's are open at 6am even on Easter Day, my friends wouldn't approve, but it is a lifeline for me.
Outdoors the sky was brilliant blue and the sun rose into a glorious morning.
I mooched and headed for church where my friend happily opened the door and wished me a happy Easter, I have never got the hang of Easter so I still forget to say it.
We had an early communion service followed by a sumptious breakfast, and the church was decorated in yellow with daffodils and Easter eggs and fluffy chikkins, which I kept borrowing.

After breakfast the main morning service went ahead and that was good, mainly.
Then everyone talked and talked, and I was on co-codamol and was just overwhelmed so I kept zoning out and not really knowing who said what and I was drifting.

Then the service was over and I went off to sit in the coffee shop, which was luckily open, and then I walked and wondered what to do, and came up here to the city, where places are open as normal.

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