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, 22 February 2015

Sunday morning

Good morning,

Well last night I re-arranged my bedding, and I had put the princess blanket in the wash in case it is causing an allergic reaction.
To my surprise, I slept through the night without waking.
I did dream though, and before I woke, I was dreaming sadly that I was back at the old house, the one that was condemned, I dreamed I was there and the other tenants were there but I knew we were not supposed to be there.
I also dreamed I was abroad, mountain climbing, which was nice.

Then I woke, and I felt tired and I wasn't breathing well, so I had to do the dreadful saline, which makes me sick.
I got up and did tea, and showered, dressed, made the bed.

Then I decided not to go to church as I was tired. I biked down to the bay, but it was so windy it made my ears ache and I got too tired, so I came home and have been reading, and writing, and the cat has nicked my orthapedic pillow and gone to sleep on it, haha, rude cat.

I still want to go to the gym, believe it or not. But I do not want to go to the welfare or anywhere. I may go to church this evening.

I am in a way, who I was in Jersey and before, and in a way I am not that person. I am obsessively clean and tidy since I left the streets, and I think in a slightly different way, I tell the Church of England how disgusting they are without swearing. I am not out of my mind like I was, and yet I am under huge stress from the Church of England still, just as I was before. I am not dependent as I was with Juliet and George and Jill, and thus I do not get into the same difficulties of people taking me over and then blaming me when their miracle cures of me do not work. In fact I am fiercely independent. And my relationship with my adoptive mum is totally different from my relationships with old church people who took me over.

I suppose some good came out of the bad, but the price to pay was too much, I would have been better learning how to relate to people and look after myself through good therapy. Which still isn't available, as there is nothing on the NHS and I am still well below the poverty line with the benefits I have to live on.

It is a cold and windy, wet day, possible snow is forecast.

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