I am here in this big town again, it is dark and it is raining, that is how I love it to be, I wish I could stay here, but I am putting myself at too mcuh risk from the woman from the church who went on hurting me, even being in this county, County A, is putting me in danger of her finding me and causing me problems.

This town is beautiful, it is full of memories.
I just went for a walk after the last computer session and I found a 6th sticker for McD's and I went and got a cup of tea.

I missed out of yesterday's adventures that I had managed to get my hair washed. 5 minute hair washing is an art I have perfected. I use the disabled toilet or the baby change room, in this case the baby change room. Block the plughole with tissue paper, run water, wet hair, use soap from the dispenser to rub hair, rinse with handfuls of water, dry with paper towel, dry the floor with paper towel, scram before mothers and babies start beating on the door, go into the ladies toilets and dry hair more under the hand dryers, it is sufficient. Daunting in cold weather through.

How can I go on telling you about my past, it is hurting me and eating me up, distressing harsh memories, for which the church entirely blames me, I want to write it out for you, so that it isn't just kept in and controlled by dissociating.

I wish with all my heart that I could share my story with a psychologist. I think a psychologist would somehow understand. But I have no access to a psychologist.