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, 26 June 2014

Thursday Morning

Good morning,

Well last night I went to Bible Study, as we had fun, as usual, I don't always go, because I cant always go, because of the diocese wasting my life.

I got home, and eventually slept, but I am now awake, 7am after a prison nightmare that has left me shaken.

It is hard to write about, because it brings back what happened, and leaves me very distressed.

I had a kind of nice dream to start with, dreamed I was on a freight ship from Southampton to the Channel Islands, it would take two days to get there, and there was a wonderful sunset, and you could cycle round the deck of the ship.

I can hardly write about the prison nightmare.

I dreamed I was in prison, presumably the same one as the church had me put in, and I kept begging to go home, unlike in real life where I shut down my emotions in order to survive, but anyway, the Bishop's secretary, Joyce was working in the prison in my dream, and she kept just saying 'you can't go home', and she and some other people, who remained shadows without any character, kept repeating 'police statements' which were also the Korris report, back to me, and claiming that I had assaulted and threatened to assault people, and I kept crying out that this was  not true, and I was met with disbelief, I had no voice and no say, much the same as in LaMoye and in the courts in Jersey and Sussex in real life, my side was irrelevant.
But in the end in the dream, I said, how many of you know that the police make up untrue statements, and Joyce put her hand up, I couldn't see what all the other shadowy people did, but Joyce knew in the dream that the police can falsify things.

The dream was a horrifying magnification of how the police and diocese have got away with harming me and covered it up in reports that omit me, and in inaccurate records.
It is not something I will ever recover from properly, and it is not something that has been addressed, because the Diocesan investigation has only been fake and hijacked, they have dragged me back into the past with no justice, no redress and left me voiceless and re-traumatized.
What is most horrifying to me is that Jane Fisher, the woman who engineered my destroyal, is still there to destroy more vulnerable people and has been allowed to influence the Bishop as well as illegally refer me to the NSPCC, which remains contemptible and infuriating.

I am glad I am awake, but the horror of that dream will remain with me all day.

I will go for a litterpick walk now, maybe with the camera, and maybe end up at a beach café.

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