Thursday 00.30am

I am awake, because I was having flashbacks to Jane Fisher and her police, just like I used to in the good old days on the streets.
Not surprising. It is one day until the anniversary of that day three years ago when she destroyed my life beyond healing in a police attack that would not have happened if she and the Bishop had dealt with my complaints and not been procceding to build on the Jersey destroyal of me by slandering me and interfering with my life in Winchester.

My former counsellor said that anniversary times trigger flashbacks, and she is right.
Although I am back on that police cell floor most days of my life, and in a way, my life ended there, anniversaries of that time are the worst time.