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, 23 February 2015


Good Monday,

Well the day started badly, it is always difficult to explain, but trauma means that I have nightmares that go into vivid waking dreams, which go into flashbacks, and I am going through a phase of that at the moment.

So I struggled awake, depressed and with a headache.

I was due to go either to the stables or the asthma clinic this morning, double booked, and I ended up going to neither.
Then there was a massive hailstorm, and the hail lay on the ground like snow, the cat sat at the door, looking puzzled, so I picked it up and explained hail to it and put it on the windowsill to consider this.

Eventually I crawled out of the house, heading for the gym, then I met someone from church and ended up chatting, I got to the gym and did a very gentle circuit, but I kept ending up with head down and eyes closed, which means I shouldn't really be out.

I came home, remembered I was supposed to meet with the boss at the charity shop and thus be there early for my training afternoon. So I ate my lunch, which I had prepared as a packed lunch because I should have been at the stables, and I set off for the shop.
The boss had forgotten he and I were going to have a meeting, so we re-scheduled for 'some time in the week' and I simply stayed on in the shop and did my training. I am now reasonably proficient in steaming clothes, so I am now a more useful volunteer, as almost all clothes suitable for sale have to be steamed.

I was still so tired, so I was relieved to finish for the day, then I grabbed some library books and groceries and got the bus home.

I got home and no-one else was home, and the four letters on the mat were all to me.

I opened the first letter and it was a 'New Home' card from friends, and it said in it 'May only happiness come through your door'.
I opened the next letter and it was a £10 gift voucher from Sainsburys!
And the next two letters were the DWP talking gibberish, as they do.

Then I had a message from the lesser spotted landlady from my old home, because she had been expecting me to pop round and collect an armchair, and I had forgotten.
So I headed round there and we walked round to the old house, which looked so forlorn and empty, with the for sale sign in the front garden.
The chair was not my old day chair, but is very similar, small and neat, just right for the small space I have for a much needed armchair.
The landlady's friend helped me carry it some of the way and then I just carried it the rest of the way, and sat on the pavement in it to rest when I needed to, everyone round here knows me, so they weren't at all surprised.

Then I did sausages and played with the cat, the cat likes to play a game called 'swipe you from the stairs' but it has the unfair advantage of claws!

Finally I have had a nice shower and washed my hair.

Justin Welby has made a fool of himself by not doing his research, as usual.

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