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:

Saturday, 30 September 2017


Good evening peeps,

It has been a rainy day.

I slept for 9.5 hours without dreams, waking or distress.

I woke achy because deep sleep kicks off neck ache.

I have had a quiet day, answering back to Welby's crap in the news. And moving possessions, and I went for my canterbury haircut. They set the trainee on me, she was slow, it looks OK I guess.

I went to get clothes as well as mine have been going to rags.

I am watching a film, getting sleepy, had sandwiches, don't feel like a full supper.

The rain is set to continue, and I will go to church in the morning.

Friday, 29 September 2017


Good morning peeps,

I had to be up at the crack of dawn to do do farm duties before I went to my early physiotherapy appointment.

The physio laughed about my hen chasing, and said that when an injury occurs and recurs in the back, the core muscles weaken. So he gave me core muscle exercises and says that with my work it is important.
He did ultrasound on the injury, as before, and as before it has helped already.

My hip had been hurting and I mentioned it, he examined, and it is bursitis, again. Of course, it makes perfect sense, didn't even think of it, but I am prone to it, presumably because of the connective tissue disorder.

I have my exercises and am all set.

I had opticians next, I chose a pair of glasses, and she said they were 'modern', maybe cos I didn't choose a monacle or eyeglasses this time.

Then, I finally went to breakfast!

1 sea view with brekky later, I was off to work!

I was working for the property managers, clearing the flats yards, I hate it but it is money.

Then I had my old lady, I cut shrubs down and raked leaves.

Then it was time to come home.

Forgot lunch today, had a chippie tea, and watched Hollyoaks and now have a movie on.

Oh I got a hairdresser appointment tomorrow, doing all these appointments!

I am so tired, early night and fairly quiet weekend I think.

Trying to use almond milk again some of the time, not easy.

Thursday, 28 September 2017


Hey peeps,

I am back. Please excuse the lack of blog, I have been distracted and everything stacked up.
I am clearing the backlog.
I managed to do the washing, wash the car, get the housework done, do some banking and bills and shopping, and get work done today.
My back is a bit better and I have physiotherapy first thing tomorrow, annoying as I have to get through the school traffic.

A lot of people are viewing my blogs to see my reaction to Ashenden or to see what is written about him.


Well. He has been made a Bishop!...In a sect with 300 members.

err, yeass, well.

Anyone silly enough to think I don't like the idea, I find it hilarious. He is a bishop in a 300 person sect. He is lower than a curate in the church of england. Fitting and deserved.

Yesterday I had an optician appointment, I was working near there, so I changed my shirt, took a jacket potato break and wandered in for my appointment, my boots smelled a bit sweaty and I had no shoes with me so I felt a bit self-conscious. But there were funny magazines to read, so I didn't mind.

The eye doctor said my prescription wasn't too much changed, slightly stronger, and I finally had the confidence to ask him about my eye infections.
He told me it is called blepheritis or something, and you won't believe the first stage of trying to cure it!
I have to use baby shampoo, and wash my eye-lids with that every day!

As for other infections, still an issue, still on hydrogen peroxide.

I have physio tomorrow, the opticians again, to choose my glasses, and next week I have dentist. I was due to see the psychologist for the first time this week but due to circumstances, I have postponed that. Lots of appointments. Haha.

Life is like that sometimes, you are plodding along smoothly and it plays roller coaster.

My back is improved and I have been on farm duties as well as work, the rebel hens are still playing.

I go and scoop them up when it gets dark, a hen under each arm, to the barn.

There they sit going
'Cluck! what happened?!'

'The clucking human got us!'

'Cluck that!'

Hens are rude. They are also awkward to carry.

Tomorrow I have two jobs if the weather allows, the property managers want me to do  the flats, and I have the old lady, if that isn't cancelled.

Tuesday, 26 September 2017


Good evening peeps.

Bad news, as if my world wasn't gloomy enough.
This morning I went for farm duties and did my back in.

Yes. It just went. It is obviously a chronic weakness now as that is the fourth time, same place and symptoms. Not good news.

I am walking but it hurts, and when I sit, it seizes so I am bending when I stand and walk.

I did the farm though, and went to work.

I had two gardens booked, the mansion and one of my old ladies, but I was struggling with the mansion, and the old lady said her lawns were too wet anyway, so I crawled home, watched Hollyoaks and things, did supper, did the farm, rebel hens has to be carried to the barn, haha.
You would have laughed to see me chasing them round the car.

Now I am watching a film before bed.

Monday, 25 September 2017

JJNortyperson's Postcard to Graham Tilby


Good evening peeps,

Thankfully I am so tired I may sleep.

Today didn't turn out at all as expected.

I thought I would be rained off in the morning and work in the afternoon, but paperwork and other issues were still affecting me when the afternoon came, so I didn't get to work today at all, it remained damp pretty much all day anway.

Yesterday a survivor contacted me, and I meant to comment on the blog that I was and am surprised about survivors who pop up, who haven't been connected with other survivors. But I forgot.

Anyway, the survivor, a male victim of Peter Ball, was new to twitter and didn't know the other survivors, so I did my best to put him in touch with them, and enjoyed talking to him at length.

But today the real surprises hit.

The Church recently responded, at last, to the Smyth survivors, after more than 200 days of ignoring them, and they responded because of the publicity that the postcards are generating, and also the 5 live interview. But the church aren't responding because they care, they are responding because they are being put under pressure.

Anyway, the church today started phoning round survivors, apparently they are panicking over the negative publicity that the Canterbury protest may give them. Honestly, they are idiots.

Now as the day went on, the survivor who has been in contact with me, messaged, telling me that he had been contacted, about me, by Lambeth palace, and he had been 'advised' that his interaction with other survivors ' might not be helpful'. Now as you know, the church achieved slandering me round my friends and, support and community in this same way in the past, and were successful in lawlessly harming me very severely to protect themselves,  and are yet to be brought to justice for it, although the damage can never be put right.

But anyway, I responded with another letter to Lambeth Palace, which is on the other blog, but I will just show you this:

Incredible isn't it? They have got away with this behaviour so much in so many circles for so long, to protect themselves, but things have to change now.

Anyway, this evening I have been able to get on with housework chores, and got a wash on, but it is on the wrong wash so it is taking ages.

I did farm duties today, the ducks have got very pushy now they are grown up, the attack my legs, I remember them being nervous ducklings.

Sunday, 24 September 2017


Hey peeps,

Funny how the stats go up and down on the blogs.

It has been a funny old day, a bit rainy.

Church was a bit emotional, with someone admitting to not being very well, and people praying for me and making a fuss.

I still have infection problems.

I am watching Goldmember, I must be bored. I watched Titanic and various odds and ends earlier.

I must try to pull myself together and get some university work done, and again, I must speak to the doctor and get antibiotics, I still haven't.

Tomorrow morning is due rain, but I will  work in the afternoon, and I have farm duties at the moment.

Saturday, 23 September 2017


Hey peeps,

I slept through the night, felt better, and then felt really ill for a while.

It has been sunny today, and I have had a quiet day, watching films.

I went to the shop this evening and have been watching Airplane 2, which while it isn't like the original - different producers, it is amusing enough.

Thursday, 21 September 2017


Hey peeps,

My old lady on the cliff top is away today so I am not yet at work. I will go and do the care home if the weather allows.

Not much happening, yesterday I worked while the rain threatened but came to nothing.

Still having infection problems despite the hydrogen peroxide.
Funny, I could be a mad scientist, I know about Hydrogen Peroxide and Potassium Permangatate or however you spell that.
It is useful stuff potassium permagutate, I used to use that when I was homeless, it turns your skin brown, or purple.

Tuesday, 19 September 2017

Tuesday Evening

Good evening peeps,

It is dark, probably night time then.

I was working earlier but it felt like I was getting a migraine. It hasn't got too bad, but I think it is because I wasn't sleeping well last night, night terrors about Welby and his church, difficulty getting comfortable or sleeping, and a sad dream that I was in hospital and my dad was there, I always know in dreams that he is dead, however comforting his presence is, and I always want to hang on to the dreams.

I need my massage machine. That will help with the tension, and hopefully I will be tired enough to sleep tonight.

I said yesterday that there were internet issues, but those seem resolved for now.

I have been in a clumsy mood today, which again, would indicate migraine, but hopefully the migraine is coming to nothing, earlier it looked really looming, but then it faded again. I have dropped a few things today, thankfully nothing serious.

Not much else to say, can't concentrate on university prep today so I am leaving it and just watching films, Hollyoaks is a bit crappy at the moment.

I was working for my old lady earlier and I asked her not to give me shortcake as I am trying to watch my weight. She replied that I look like I am losing weight already as I have lost my bum.

I got worried, I have no idea where I left my bum and I need it for sitting on.

My old lady says funny things.

A video postcard from Smyth abuse victim 021 to Ailsa Anderson, Archbish...

A video postcard from Smyth abuse victim 021 to Ailsa Anderson, Archbish...

Monday, 18 September 2017


Hey peeps,

Brief update to say I will be offline most of this week, nice of me to warn you for once isn't it? Usually I just snicker and vanish. Which is really unfair.

Hydrogen peroxide helps but hasn't made the problem go away.

Today is nothing special, more laundry, some housework, some work, a trip to the bank. Paying in, paying bills.

The stats on the blog shot up from Jersey and when I asked why, I was told, Ashenden is picking fights, the new Dean is being a new Dean to himself, and Bailhache had a fart attack.

Well, maybe I will be able to come home sooner if Bailhache is on his way out. I can imagine all the nonsense and froth that will be written when he does die, but none of it will change Jesus' mind about sending him to hell. None of it will change what Bailhache really is, no matter how thick they lay it on. Good riddance.

Here's to Jersey:

See you all soon peeps, I will blog when I can.

Sunday, 17 September 2017


Hey peeps,

Yeah, not liking the high stats from Jersey, always indicative of an attack.

Yesterday my friend insisted on meeting for coffee. Which was good, it helped me to feel a bit better.
It was good to talk, and we did some window shopping as well.
Her husband came to meet us and he was telling me about a book, the book he described sounded so interesting that I looked it up and I will get a copy eventually.


Feeling a bit better today, not awesome but a but better. Using Hydrogen Peroxide solution to help with infection. Allowed to, of course.
Still haven't skyped the doctor again yet.

Today I wasn't going to church because I don't like the visiting preacher's preaching, but I decided to drop in on another church that our church had links with.
It was a novel experience, my first visit to another church since things changed, but they treated me well and I was perfectly happy with the service.

Then I came home and did a roast dinner, turkey, roast potatoes, and broccoli.

Then I have been cleaning and things. And I nipped to the farm, the hens followed me interestedly as I went in the barn. The hens think I exist to feed them. I was telling my friend yesterday about how I thought the geese and ducks would be scared of the strimmer but instead they followed me round the paddock, commenting interestedly. The geese put themselves to bed several times too, because when they see me, even in the middle of the day, they think it is bed time. They insist too.
Pied Piper of Poultry.

I am just watching self/less on DVD again.

Friday, 15 September 2017


Hey peeps,

I am still not well, I have continued to drag myself to work though.

Yesterday was a rotten day, because after enduring the cliff top, which is not my favourite, I went back to strimming the farm, and the strimmer got so bad that I made myself more ill trying to force it to start, in the end I gave up and the man said he had had trouble starting it too, which wasn't good as it was only serviced a month ago (when it was playing up before).

So I had to quit the strimming and try and  mow some of the paddocks on a high cut, and then I mowed the lawns and orchards, but I was knackered and in pain from the effort, it's tough cheese when you have heavy work and a bad strimmer when you are ill and have no choice but to work.

Today the sun was shining again and I was in pain so I didn't want it to, I went and worked at the care home, and then for the old lady.

Then I came home and sat in bed and watched Self/less, and then Hollyoaks, and didn't do much.

My friend wants to go for coffee tomorrow but I feel so ill.

I went to the shop and sat and looked at the sea for a while.

Wednesday, 13 September 2017

Wednesday evening

Good evening peeps,

As my twitterpeeps and some others will know, I haven't been well. I am still not well.

It's funny, I was just thinking about my friend, two years ago she came round to see me, and she was not feeling great, she was coughing, she said she had a chest infection, she said she would go to the doctor, and when she did, she was sent straight to hospital, she died four months later.

I am not dying, I just feel as if I am. The infection and fever were bad enough, but then the reaction to the tetanus jab, and a lot of other stresses all at once. 
And I have to try to keep working and  the weather is making that difficult.

Today I had the farm and another job, but the other job cancelled due to the weather and so I was strimming at the farm.
That was a bit of a disaster too.
I managed to do what all gardeners eventually do, but I had thus far avoided, despite both my workmates doing it recently.
I broke a window, and not one, but two! 

The strimmer threw up some stones and broke two greenhouse windows, ask any gardener, we have all done this at one point, and some do it quite a lot, both my workmates have recently, but my smug clean record was broken today.

When the lady got back, I went and said 'You won't be very pleased with me today!' 
but she took it in her stride and said the last gardener had done the same.

The strimmer was being an utter devil, it was hard to start, lost it's wire, and replacement was hard to find, I swear I spent more time trying to get the strimmer running than I did strimming.

But I got some time with the livestock too. When I arrived, the duck house roof had wandered off in the gale and the ducks had followed suit, the geese were yelling as they were still in, and one embarassed hen was out because it had forgotten to go in the barn the previous night while the other hens were still in. 
So I sorted them all out.

By the time I called it a day, I was so ill and tired, I wanted to go and do another job but when I got there I realised I was not in a fit state to be out, so I came home and have been in bed.

It is a difficult time, peeps, I have to work, I have to support myself, but it isn't easy in the bad weather and with illness.

Oh, university prep has started, and if I wasn't so ill I would be enjoying it. The ladies were giggling because my materials parcel was small for this term and I said I usually got a big box of things, and they said 'Well it is all hard work condensed into one book this time!' They liked my back to school comments I think. 

My postcard to Graham Tilby

I will update the daily blog when I can. Still fighting health problems here.

Monday, 11 September 2017

Smyth victims postcard to Justin Welby, the Archbishop of Canterbury


Hey peeps,

Nearly a week since I blogged, on the anniversary of the police destroying my life again.

I have been battling another infection.

I am not willing to go into the local hospital for any surgery, the local hospital is under special measures and is a death trap basically. My friend was left with fluid draining from her lung onto the floor there when she was dying, and I know of other horror stories. And anyway, because of the NHS treating me terribly courtesy of the church and police, I am non-NHS but the operation I need would cost £2,500 private. A head scan will be cheaper and I need that first.

I tried to skype the doctor on Saturday but the signal is bad here in bad weather so I couldn't, anyway, all they would say is antibiotics, incision and operation, and they would try to persuade me to go NHS and get it done, but I won't.

Anyway, never mind that, it is not life-threatening, just disrupting.

The weather has been wind and rain, as it has for most people, and so I have been rained off a lot, which is not good.
It has been an unremarkable time, just struggling to live because of the unresolved church injustice and the impact on me.

Yesterday I finally had the time and energy to attend my church, it was quiet there, a few people still away, the people who I sit with were away and had suffered a bereavement as well.

It was funny though, because the old ladies who sit back right came out with one of their er, bloopers.
They said to me 'Oh, it's nice that you are here when your friends are away!'

You see, I don't attend church to see my friends, although that is a nice side effect of church. But the oldies at the back think that I don't know about God or Christianity and that I come for the social side. I think back right provide comedy for the whole church sometimes.
But anyway, my friend was on door duties and I told him what they had said and we laughed.

I guess I should have said to the old ladies, who are very old really, that everyone at the church is my friend, but I said 'I come for the worship, not because my friends are here'.

Anyway, so I was chatting with my friend on the door and when he was asked to help with prayers, I went on the door and did bright smiles and handshakes, and charged the customers a shilling for the books, no I didn't charge a shilling really.

I normally sit front right with the peeps, but as they were away, I was going to sit on my own, but my friends in centre right decided I was too norty to be alone in case I danced in some aisles or was wandering around under the seats looking for gum, so they squashed me in the middle of them in centre. :( notypeople are free range, not too keen on the squashness, but liking being included.

The service was OK, it will be a long time before I can completely stop the flashbacks, but it was informative, good bread and butter, as they tend to be at that church, and afterwards people made a fuss of me :( but my friend asked if I would meet her for coffee this week, we haven't been for coffee for ages, as you may have noticed, I like coffee with her because she is similar to my adoptive mum, coffee means a long chat and then a tour of town and window shopping as well, which is fun.

Oh I forgot to say earlier, after the service another old lady came hurrying after me, not one of the back right, she is quite nice, she brings her blind friend every week, but anyway, she said to me 'I always think your hair is so beautiful!'
That was so nice of her to come and say that. As some of you know, my hair has always been difficult for me, but in the past year, with it thinned and cropped to shoulder length and bleached beautiful honey blonde by the sun, my hair is actually not bad, I have made peace with my hair at last, as long as I can keep it at shoulder length and thinned.
So it is nice to know that someone else likes my hair. I don't know many people with natural hair who are my age, my hair parts in the middle and normally has no styling and of course no chemical dye, the sun bleaching is lovely, in the past I sometimes tied my hair back, but I am not keen on that, it stops the wind from blowing it so much at work though.

Today is a slow start, with the weather and the lingering infection. At least the flat is clean and there will be food.
Tomorrow, and I am sure I will be OK for it, I am having vaccinations.
The NHS messed up, as they did with everything so I am not vaccinated like most people, but the one that I need, which they have let me down on is the tetanus, polio and diptheria, or however you spell it.
They did a tetanus when I was late teens, early 20s, as I was working on the land, they never did a booster, too busy failing me in other areas, and they only did part of my polio, and as for the other thing, the never vaccinated that. So I have tetanus jab in full tomorrow, with polio and the other stuff.
And yes, the NHS were reminded repeatedly, didn't give a damn, so yes, it is a private vaccination. I am a gardener, sick and destroyed as I am, and I have to look after myself.

University prep starts in two days. And what am I doing? Well as you know I deferred a module, and I can't retake yet, so I am taking another module in it's stead, just one module this year, to get me to 240. Which, as you know, will only be 60 away from a degree, or 120 from an honours, and I am going for honours, so I will hopefully end up with a BA Honours. I will die from the church, police and NHS first, but at least I tried. And I am not taking any music exams this year.

And regarding the psychologist, the referral was fine, I will be seeing her when she gets back from holiday.

Tuesday, 5 September 2017


Good morning peeps,

Well I am trying to use the newer orthapedic pillow with the head support, but it is only partially successful. It is a bit too firm.
I didn't have such bad terrors in the night, although it is never good to be terrorized, I woke in fright from a bad dream and mainly I just re-lived the police seige of my home a year ago today, another mischief by the unregulated and dangerous church of england.

I will tell you about it, I guess, because I never did.

But first I will catch you up on yesterday. Yesterday I didn't work on the estate with the boys, I worked down at the marina with the peace and quiet and the fishes and boats.

I was mainly doing heavy work, using the heavy hedgecuter to cut hedges. It was a damp and muggy day, not nice to work in, but for the occasional breeze blowing the rain and sweat and cooling me down.

It was peaceful, and I had coffee and lunch when I needed.

I did ache though, but because of this machine I have, I can work hard and ache without getting sick.
Although my shoulder did ache in the night.

I was so tired last night, I watched Hollyoaks and had an early night.

Am tired now, and the weather is dodgy, I have the care home and one of my old ladies if the weather allows.


It was the day after the horticultural show, I had stewarded, I had shadowed the judge, and I had been told to start growing and competing again for next year, but I saw little point in any of it after what the church had done to me.
It was an ordinary day. Or so I thought. Monday September 5th 2016, 6 months after the Church of England had me publicly and finally destroyed and presumably hoped that I would suicide.

A year ago today it was raining in the morning, not heavy rain, but the weather had been wet enough to leave the ground too wet to work, so I delayed work.
Incredibly the rain a year ago today is exactly the same as today.

I had Max, the car, parked outside the front, and I was running errands, doing laundry and loading junk into Max to take to my store.

My landlord was getting two unemployed tenants, a couple who lived in the flat opposite me, to clean the house, this happened sometimes and I think he paid them.
I was dodging round them to load my car, and we laughed and joked.
I was hoping to go to work in the afternoon as the weather was due to clear. I had no idea what was about to happen.

I went to the laundry and the store, and I came home to get lunch and work things.

The world ended.

My landlord was working on the old shop that he was converting to a laundry room. He would always stop and talk but I didn't expect what he said.

He told me that the silver car outside the house was a police car and that a male and a female officer had come to see me, and he told them I was probably at work now, and they had said they would go away and come back in an hour. I will always wonder where they actually went, presumably to rally the troops to beat me up.

He said they had walked into the flats and he had found them there,  but they had no warrant. He said they were claiming to be 'concerned' about me. Well why did the police allow the church to destroy me despite my claims for help if they were 'concerned' about me?!

I told the landlord that when the police came back then I had said that they were to leave or I would make a harassment complaint.

As he had said they would be back in an hour, I thought I had time to get a backpack and flee the property. But he must have called them as they came back as soon as I went into the flat.

I was trapped in my flat with the police, landlord and the various nosey neighbours and drunkards outside the pub outside, and the police had no respect for my privacy and welfare as they tried to force my old name and identity back upon me and on my community and landlord. The police have always treated me with contempt and behaved badly to me, and this was no exception.

My landlord stupidly gave the police my private number - he later said it was to get rid of them as they refused to leave.
The policewoman tried to phone me and I told her to leave or I would make a harassment complaint.

She then tried to text me, wittering about not wanting to cause me distress and alarm - don't be stupid, the police have not only aided the church in destroying me, but have refused to stop serious, evidenced, and criminal harm to me by the church and have even tried to tell me that the church aren't doing anything illegal when they have been doing. The police are outright liars and will lie to get what they want, they are callous dishonest brutes, and telling me they didn't want to cause me distress and alarm was a repeat of ever police lie I have heard, and I have heard many.

I texted back that she was to leave or I would make a harassment complaint. I was shocked and broken, destroyed and in collapse, as these police remained outside, having destroyed my new identity and life and left me knowing I would have to leave my home and community.

I feared for my life as the police refused to leave, and I got my backpack, the police were downstairs outside the flats with my landlord and the nosey neighbours, one of the police was sitting in the car, drawing big lines through a paper document.
 I went upstairs in the flats and climbed out on the roof. I am scared of heights and it was a long way and I was terrified.

I didn't know what was going on down there, I heard people mowing about, the female police officer was wearing stilettos, would you believe it? They were plain clothes, but why was that even allowed? I heard her stilettos clopping up to the door of the flats, and clopping back again, presumably the landlord closed the door so they couldn't just walk in.

I didn't know what was going on as you can't see much from the roof without tumbling over and I get vertigo and am scared of heights. But I knew the car was still there.

After a while I heard a car, didn't know if it was theirs, I texted the officer and asked if they had gone as I needed to pack a  bag and flee my home. She replied that they had, and I said don't come back, I will be making a harassment complaint.

I was so humiliated that I never wanted to see my landlord again, but he seemed unruffled, but because I didn't know what the bastards had said to him, I couldn't trust him. He told me that the police car had broken down and the clueless lady in stillettos hadn't been able to understand a bump start so he and the male officer had to do the bump start.

I told the landlord that the police had worked with my abusers to hound and destroy me, and I was a fugitive and I was going to have to move.
The landlord asked if freemasonry was involved and I said yes, to a certain extent at least. He said it all made sense and the local masons got away with murder, he had plenty of time to tell me all about it but I felt in immediate danger. He told me it was a 'Masonic Warning' and I told him I wished the Masons would get on with it as my life is worthless.

The landlord asked if I was just going on the run? I told him I didn't know. I had my backpack of clothes, food and medicine, and I was going somewhere, but I didn't know where. He wasn't the type to worry, or even care, as long as the rent was paid or I gave notice.

I went, I took Max, but I didn't know where I was going, I didn't know if I could safely cross any borders, I didn't know if the police were on the lookout for me, I was afraid and started to get confused, every flashback to police injustice and violence and lies and jeers overwhelmed me.

I texted my adoptive mum, and she asked where I was, but I didn't know. I didn't know what to do or if I had eaten or anything, those who read my blog know that I get like this when the church harm me and cause me shock with their vile lying press and media releases about my case.

I wasn't sure I should be driving. I took my things to the store. I don't know what I did. I went home late that evening, expecting trouble, but it was all quiet, and I tried to sleep. I didn't know how I was going to live and work any more, I was shattered. I didn't put any lights on in the flat and I went to the window every time a car went past.

For a few weeks it was like that, I pretended not to be there, I told the people I worked for that I had a virus. And I worked when I could. But my world, my life, the safe new identity life, was over, and seemingly for no reason.

There had been no warning to the police attack, and there was seemingly no reason to it either.
The people I told about the police behaviour said it was utterly wrong and inexcusable.

The police then tried to send me a letter in my old name, thankfully I was in charge of the post box and the post for the flats, and found the non-delivery slip for recorded delivery. I could not believe the police's cruelty or criminal harm, they knew both that my name had changed -they had used my legal name when they seiged the property, and they knew that anyone at the house could see the letter in my damned, condemned old name, the name of the person they and the church had destroyed.

I had made a complaint on September 5th 2016, when the police attacked the flat, and professional standards had tried to rubbish me but I had sent the complaint to the IPCC so professional standards had stopped trying to rubbish me, but now the matter was getting more serious, and the police then tried to force this wrongly addressed letter on me by email, coldly as well.
I escalated the complaint.

Professional standards, the police and the IPCC amused themselves by sending letters to my flat addressed to anyone but me, and I kept escalating the complaint.

A year later I have continued to endure harm and denial from the police, there has been no credible excuse for their harassment of me, presumably they can't say outright 'The church told us to harass you but they daren't bring charges because of the evidence against THEM!'

The formal complaint is not settled and I endure regular bullshitting from professional standards and the IPCC, but the police have broken the law and left me broken too, and I won't stop fighting them for justice not just for the attack a year ago, but for the decade of police brutality and jeers and imprisonments while they refused to stop the church's open and evidenced criminal harm to me. It is lifelong damage that can never be healed though.

I did leave the flats where the police had me shamed and destroyed, I was afraid 24 hours a day and never re-settled, and I live still in terror, because if they can do that once, they can do it again, and as they hate and brand me and aid my abusers, they will. I was safer on the streets and I slept better on the streets. I am trapped in trauma and fear now, a real fugitive, waiting for them to find me again and wondering just what damage they did in illegally and violatingly tracing me before.

Sunday, 3 September 2017


Good evening peeps,

I have been battling depression so thick and dark that I can hardly do anything.

It has rained all day.

I got the farm done.

I spoke to the doctor via skype this morning, I am please that my earphones helped me to hear the doctor better. It was a different doctor this time.

She was very helpful even though there isn't much that can be done.
I am non-NHS because of their atrocious treatment of me, and the local NHS are in serious difficulties and can't even help people in more serious trouble than me.

So the doctor listened, and she said she could understand, that it is important to stop the rebuild of my life collapsing altogether because of how I am struggling with trauma and depression, and because of my serious reaction to all anti depressants, I can't be allowed those even though it has got to a point where I want those, because usually she would prescribe those.

She said that all she could think of to do was write a general referral letter for a psychiatrist and include the fact that I can't have medication, and I should arrange to see a consultant psychiatrist and get a therapy action plan in place.

We only have about 2 or 3 private psychiatrists within 30 miles, so I emailed the most likely one.

He emailed back within a few hours, very polite and helpful, and told me what I know, I need a psychologist not a psychiatrist. I knew that, but I went with what the doctor said.

It's funny, it reminded me of Jersey and the lies of the Korris report.

The Korris lies still injure me, and nothing has been done about them or Korris.

In the end of my time in Jersey, I was in a collapsed state from the Jersey Deanery and Fisher and the Scott-Joynts harm to me, which is not recorded anywhere of course, and so I was paying to see my doctor every week, twice a week I think, and I was on the waiting list to see the specialist psychologist who had finally been brought to Jersey, and had been brought partly because of autism Jersey and my press and media release on their behalf when I and other autistic people were refused mainstream psychology treatment, discriminated against basically. Do any Jersey readers remember my broadcast and article?

Anyway, so in the end times in Jersey, I was seeing my doctor and waiting to see this new psychologist.
Do you remember what the Korris rubbish said? That I was refusing treatment and denying my condition? Jane Fisher's lies will affect me for life. Lies printed as fact, broadcast over the world and sent to the police as fact. Horrific.
But, the belated point of this is, there in Jersey, August 2010,  in my distressed state, I phoned my doctor and asked if I should actually be getting psychiatric treatment, and he said no, wait for the psychological treatment, he said he saw no sign that he needed to change me from psychological to psychiatric despite my state.

Consider now the depth of damage by the church of england and police in trying repeatedly to force my distress to be madness and for me to need to be put away!

Today the psychiatrist read my referral and said I need a psychologist not a psychiatrist.
To be honest, the damage to me by the church and police is such that I don't believe that anything can help me, and I am still not safe from harm, but I can't let things get worse, because I have had a number of near misses at work, my job needs full concentration, and the disturbed sleep and tiredness, flashbacks and lapses of concentration, are not safe in my work. And so many times I nearly go off sick just because of depression and despair.

The psychiatrist recommended two of his colleagues, one I knew wasn't the right person, the other I don't know, so he gave me her contact details and I have emailed her.

This feels like the end times in Jersey again, I am in that destroyed state, a year after the police yet again seiged my home for the church, I am depressed, distressed, destroyed, and yet I keep trying to pull back from the darkness, with ever decreasing hope.
I don't know how I will fund treatment, especially as winter is coming. All I can do is go on making the same steps in the hope of finding a way through.

But if the police, who aren't liking my formal complaint, attack my home again, I am finished. And living in fear is part of why I am deteriorating. They had no warrant, no charges, no reason to seige my home, release my old identity and smear me to my landlord and neighbours, and it was six months after the Archbishop and Bishops had me utterly and publicly destroyed to culminate their three year public destruction of me.
The police who seiged my home, and professional standards, refuse to do anything about the church's harm to me, as they have from start to now.

That sounds like a lot of rant. But it is all real and all horrifying. No human being can survive all this, and therapy is basically just a comforter while I wait.

Saturday, 2 September 2017


Good evening peeps,

The stats went up on the blog, especially from the channel islands, which is never a good sign.

I have been tired with bad nights so I haven't updated. I am off to bed now but will update briefly.

Yesterday I did the marina in the morning, nice and peaceful, and then the old lady in the afternoon, I was a bit worried that she is usually there to greet me and wasn't, but she had fallen asleep. Well she is in her 90s, she has earned her daytime naps. She woke up when the dustmen came round and made me tea.

I got home early and put the bed linen in the wash, and that was dry by bed time so I put the clothes wash on and hung that out overnight.

I had patches of severe distress in the night so it was hard to get up this morning and I had a lie in for once, as I didn't have the farm until this evening.

There were various events on today but I didn't go out, I just went to the shop and stayed home, lazily did a few tasks, not much, until I went to do the farm, I got some of the mowing done at the farm and did the animals. Then I went to the supermarket on the way home and did a big shop, so the fridge is full and there is fruit and snacks.

I watched Mrs Doubtfire this evening, and haven't done much else, lazy weekend, nearly bed time.