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, 12 July 2018

Thursday Evening

Good evening peeps,

It seems strange talking to you again. I walked in the dark alone for a while. Like I did in 2010.

I remember this blog in its heyday, when it was alive, and I, despite the increasing damage, was also alive. It has been quite a journey, from 2011 when apart from chasing me through the authorities with slander so I couldn't get help or settle, the church saw me as dead and alone and sleeping rough, the whole world saw me as dead, and on to the church's massive launch of their attack in 2013 and the three years of hell, before they destroyed me publicly, and the years since when they routinely attack me with the police but refuse to do anything about my case, and now, between the violent police attack and my death, this short and very sad wait, with absolutely everything gone. You know no human being could possibly survive what I have survived don't you? Now I am walking to my death, the Bishop and police will oblige, I am sure.

Today I had to go through those awful press attacks by the JEP, BBC and ITV for the court, and it left me very shaken. although in this fugue dream state between life and death, it seems more like a faraway nightmare. It is what they did to me, and there has been no justice or resolution. It is as horrific now as it was then.
But it brought back clear memories of Jersey. See you soon Jersey. Who will join me for that last walk?

I am so tired. It is nearly dark, nearly sleep time. Always so tired now. Tired and drifting aimlessly in  space, no hope of gathering the pieces up this time. My hand will never have feeling again, it will always be a strange cold thing that isn't really mine anymore, and I don't want to live like that, so lets hope the Bishop arranges the death soon.
It seems like years ago I lost my home because of the Bishop and his safeguarding director and their beating and imprisonment of me to cover up their wrong, years ago, my home, my friends, my work, my volunteer roles and community, my island, wasn't it years ago? Was it four weeks ago? How long has the walk in the dark been?

I am absolutely going to sleep, never mind how early it is.

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