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:

Friday, 28 July 2017


Hey peeps,

Well I slept through the night but with vivid dreams, then this morning the flashbacks relating to the police, church and NHS were horrific and it was hard to work.

The weather was wet and windy and the traffic was bad. But I worked at the marina with the boys.

They were mowing and I was planting, weeding and hedge trimming.

They didn't have a good day, one broken mower and one broken window. Not happy.

I got a good morning's work done despite the desperate distress. Then I finished at lunch time and came home for my lunch.

Unfortunately it started raining, but I headed back out, hoping for the best, but as well as the continued rain, traffic was horrendous, so I didn't get my old lady's garden done, I went and shut the farm up early. Got the animals fed and out of the weather.

Came home, Titanic was on, so I watched that and then Hollyoaks and did meat and bread for supper.

I had arranged with the director of the samaritans to go in and see them this evening. I always think I will be too tired but if I have an arranged time, it helps. There is only one samaritans branch in the district, some miles from home, and they can be short of volunteers, so I arrange in advance to go and see them.

Before I headed out into the rainy night, I offered my landlady some fresh eggs from the farm, I wasn't sure of myself, shy, I didn't know if they ate eggs, but they like eggs, so that was good.

Sometimes talking to the Samaritans helps, sometimes it doesn't. This time I had to try, because this horrible depression and flashbacks won't lift without action. It helped to talk to a samaritan today. He listened and I talked, and he kept saying it was all amazing and incredible, it doesn't feel amazing or incredible to me, but it helps to be reminded that everything, the rough sleeping, the rebuild of my life, are remarkable and it isn't surprising I have bad patches.

I came home through the rain and wind, which are both heavy now, and talking helps my mind to quiet down, so that is why I go to the samaritans occasionally.
So now I will sleep.

Tomorrow looks wet, but I will do the farm, and hopefully the care home as well.

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