Saturday, 4 February 2017

Caroline Venables

04/02/2017

Formal Letter to Caroline Venables.

Dear Caroline Venables,

Please excuse my rudeness and distress, or don't if you don't want to. On Thursday you tried to phone me, the first time my abusers at Lambeth Palace have ever tried to phone me. And at a time of very deep distress due to the Archbishop's repeated use of abuse to glorify himself and the Church of England when he has been asked enough times not to behave like that.
There is nothing that the Church can say to me, and phoning me when I am being re-abused by the man who publicly destroyed me, Justin Welby, is not a good idea.

Jane Dodds and Graham Tilby, followed by Moira Murray, injured me as much as they could in their dismissal of my anguish and their efforts to excuse themselves for allowing, aiding and abetting the massive public destruction of me by Welby and Dakin and the press. There is nothing you can say to me. However, you do have a duty of care and a duty to take action.
Nearly a year has gone by since Dakin and Welby publicly destroyed me after three years of severe harm, and you haven't made a press redaction, you haven't removed them for their harassment of me, you haven't done anything. So you have no right to phone me. Phone back when every wrongdoer is dealt with and not before, and by wrongdoer, you have to include yourself and your safeguarding team.

I do not know why you phoned me but let me guess:
• You want to silence me, my speaking up is a nuisance. I will not be silenced until you kill me, and the more damage you do, the more I will scream.
• You want to excuse the Church. Well what's new? Get Tilby to do that, he is a great liar, very believable, unlike Dodds. The two of them telling me different things would have been a comedy if their collusion in destroying me wasn't so evil.
• You want to warn me that you are trying to release any of the whitewashes or want my consent, agreement or co-operation. No. If you even try, I will destroy the Church of England outright. Shred the vile evil lies and stop harassing me. What you have done to me is contemptible.
• You want to pretend to care? Get stuffed, how many times?!
• You have been prompted to contact me by an outside agency or church or individual who has heard some of my story, you will now go back to them with a whine about trying to contact me but I screamed at you. I did. I will scream at you some more if you like. It releases some of years and years of anguish and anger at being destroyed over and over. Tell the agency to read my blog, I will post this letter on it.

I don't know you and I don't want to, you are part of the organization who destroyed me and upheld my abusers. You have a duty of care, especially as you claim (albeit falsely) to be to do with safeguarding.
So you will ensure that the upcoming press and media attack on behalf of the criminal you uphold, the Dean of Jersey, is forestalled, and you will make sure Gladwin retires properly and shreds the lies he has created in collusion with Steel and the Deanery of Jersey.

If I am further harmed, this letter will be available and you will be held liable.
Now go back to that snivelling corrupt coward Welby and make sure he hears this letter in no uncertain terms before he resigns. If he continues to shout and rant and lie in the press and media because of his desparation not to be exposed for his own crimes, his fall is going to be much harder.

Don't call me HG when you contact me. You named me as a spit of contempt and I now own the name. You call me JJ as asked previously.
When the press lies kick off or I have contact from the Church of England or press or media, it affects my work and studies, I am close to having to quit university and I end up starving and in danger of homelessness if you destroy my work through these matters. My whole life, relationships and tenancies are affected by the Church's harm of me.

HG/JJ

By the Branches broke like bones

Thursday, 2 February 2017

The prayers from my new book 'Destruction'


I pray that each and every individual involved in harming me, clergy, laity and support services, have the grace to take responsibility for harming me and bow out of life where they have contact with other vulnerable adults who they may harm but who may not gain a voice through writing as I have. In the Name of Jesus. Amen
I pray that under a new Archbishop, and very soon, the Church turn from their narcissism and power-abusive control of the press and authorities and grant a full, independent and impartial investigation into my case, from the abuse that started when I was in my late teens and early 20s to the horrific cover-ups, press and media smears and million pound whitewash of more recent years.
In the Name of Jesus. Amen
I pray for all the people involved in harming me. I pray that they repent and learn to have a conscience. I thank You Lord that though I am shattered, destroyed, branded for life and dying, that I am not one of the people who have harmed me, for all their stability and good things in life and assurance of meals and a roof over their heads. I would rather be me and be destitute and alone.
In the Name of Jesus. Amen
Lord help and protect other victims who are voiceless in the face of the Church's Evil. I have only a small voice in my writing, but they have no voice, I speak for them.
In the Name of Jesus. Amen
Lord please forgive me whatever perceived evil that the Church and my old community hold against me to death, that they think I am worse than them in their unchristian condemnation of me and all their acts of evil and deceit in my case, although I carry all my shame and guilt as a heavy burden and even baptism, confession and repentance has not stopped these people from binding my sins back upon me until I fall under the weight of this cross.
Amen
Dear Lord and Father, please take from me the burden of the condemnation of me by the Winchester churches, community and Deanery on behalf of the Scott-Joynts, Dakins and Fisher. The condemnation has never been withdrawn nor has a single person shown impartiality or an ear for my side of things. Please bind the condemnation back upon those who condemned me and let me walk towards my grave free from it.
God please forgive me my sins and help those who condemned me to repent.
I ask all these things in Jesus' Name. Amen

Tuesday, 31 January 2017

Sir Humphrey Appleby: The Queen is inseparable from the Church of England.
Jim Hacker: And what about God?
Sir Humphrey Appleby: I think he is what is called an optional extra.

Sunday, 22 January 2017

Gavin Ashenden

I am getting a tremendous amount of traffic to my blog from people looking for Gavin Ashenden. This tends to happen when he is attacking people, and this is no different.

He is ranting in the Times about the Koran being used in a Cathedral.
Well a) did anyone notice, the old dears are usually asleep, and b) isn't it a good idea to educate people to stop the blind Islamophobia continuing to rise? c) Isn't Ashenden's attack on the Archbishop more to do with the secret court that he faced? d) The Archbishop should resign, because he is a cowardly corrupt lying crook, not because of the Koran.

Gavin Ashenden spends his life attacking and showing off, and, having never met me, took part in a press and media smear campaign against me, full of lies, some of which is available here:

http://www.lulu.com/shop/hg-review-team/very-cuttings/paperback/product-23028126.html

Ashenden isn't in any postion to lay down the law to anyone, aside from his public attacks on me without having both sides of the story, he is a divorcee, which is against Jesus' teachings, and he has relentlessly attacked and slurred abuse victims and the mentally ill, as well as making racist and xenaphobic attacks in the press constantly.
He thinks very highly indeed of himself, and the Church don't appear to have any ability to silence his hatred and rants, even though he is a safeguarding danger.
He really needs a copy of the Bible, I don't think he can ever have seen a copy or read it.

This is Tony the Prof's blog. look at what a churchgoer in Jersey has observed about Gavin Ashenden:

http://tonymusings.blogspot.co.uk/search?q=Gavin+Ashenden

This is Bob's blog, look through this and see what Ashenden was part of:

http://bobhilljersey.blogspot.co.uk/

It is time that Ashenden was asked to step down, he is mean-spirited, untruthful, hateful, prejudiced, proud and boastful, he is bringing Christianity into disrepute and would be bringing the church into disrepute if they weren't already, and the church are scared to face up to him because he is chaplain to the Queen.

Tuesday, 17 January 2017

Jersey Protest

I am supporting the protest in Jersey today. Because I want Gorst to resign or be removed.

And the only time I have ever agreed with Ashenden is now he wants the Archbishop to step down.

In both cases I am in agreement that these criminal figureheads should be removed, but not for the same reason as the protesters.

Let me reword that, I agree with the Jersey protesters, Ozouf is losing them a fortune and being protected by a chief minister whose misconducts are worse than anyone thinks.


Friday, 13 January 2017

A letter to the Archbishop and Bishops regarding abuse and cover up.

cc National 'Safeguarding' Team and IICSA

10/01/2017

Dear Bishops Willmott and Dakin and Archbishop Welby,

I enclose the reminder of the formal complaint sent to Bishop Willmott last year, unfortunately he decided to try and fob me off through his secretary, adding to his image of dishonesty, deceit and cowardice.

Please make sure that both my formal complaint against the behaviour of yourselves and the Godless, evil and criminal Jersey Deanery are now either addressed or passed to a competent safeguarding body, as it is clear from the pronouncements without evidence of the Archbishop and Bishop about safeguarding in Jersey being good, while I was being destroyed, that neither the Archbishop nor Bishop have the faintest clue what safeguarding is.

That is reinforced by the fact that the Archbishop and Bishops themselves have led a public attack on my character through a million pounds worth of criminal and illegal whitewashes slurring me and covering up for wrongdoers. If you consider safeguarding to be good when you have been effectively forcing me to my death and branding me publicly for the abusers who you have openly aided and upheld in harming me. Then at very least you don't know what safeguarding is.

You met with and condoned the powerful criminals from Jersey and spoke with them on the phone and allowed them to condemn me in the press and media, you provided legal and PR help for yourselves, and you never met with me, spoken to me (apart from the Bishop of Winchester threatening me) or provided me with legal or PR help as you destroyed me publicly while I was voiceless. 

So how is safeguarding good in the Church of England? Are you going to answer? Are you going to answer the person who you have scourged and crucified publicly?

You spent a million pounds glorifying yourselves at my expense and upholding each and every wrongdoer and abuser and branding me publicly for life, flinging your and their version of my personal life all over the press and all over the world. You made it clear you condone abuse and will always protect abusers and wrongdoers. Do you really believe this is safeguarding?

Now, where is the million pounds for an investigation into what happened to ME? And also into the illegally accessed records of the whitewash.

If you continue to refuse to take responsibility for your actions and the severe, life-limiting and permanent harm to me, then each one of you must step down.

Even if you genuinely believed the Dean to be innocent of wrongdoing, you had no right to turn the matter into a discrediting press stunt at my expense, having never met me or heard my side and having only listened to the money and power of the powerful circle of lawyers and dignitaries surrounding the Dean. Including those who illegally accessed and tampered with already inaccurate police and other records.

What you should have been doing rather than destroying me for the sake of the Church's image, was holding these men, including the Dean, to account for their Godless and criminal behaviour instead of adding and to it and including your own Godless and criminal behaviour.

The Dean of Jersey, without remorse or any sort of reprimand for his serious criminal and dangerous actions, especially in conjunction with his circle over the past four years, is to go on to positions where he will remain a danger to the vulnerable, and you have lauded and upheld him, so tell me how safeguarding in the Church of England is good?

You nearly ended my destroyed and shattered life with your public attack on me and upholding of wrongdoers and I remain in utter anguish and waiting for death. Obviously from your onslaught without mercy, you have made it clear that you want me dead, and indeed it would be best, because I couldn't recover from the previous harm to me, the last four years is something that no human being could come back from, no human being, be they whole or crippled. No-one could survive what you have done to me. You have utterly condemned me.

So, why have you received my requests for you to pay for my attendance at Dignitas to be humanely put to sleep, and not answered them?

 You had a million pounds to pay for glorifying yourselves at my expense and publicly destroying me, you had that money to pay for cover-up of your wicked and criminal actions against me, and you are reluctant to pay a few thousand for me to fly to Switzerland to be killed, after your sustained efforts left me shattered beyond healing but still unable to die? 

Please explain this. No-one can deny that your efforts at publicly vilifying me and spewing your version of my life into your complicit press could be anything other than a constructive murder, and in fairness I should now have been dead for three years, but sadly for you I am not, and I have offered you a solution for your failed murder, because I am never going to heal.

 A mutual solution would be dignitas, and it would be better than having to endure another Christmas ruined by Justin Welby, the man who destroyed me, trotting out another load of vain and empty lies written for him at Christmas, waffling the vain empty cliches about the poor and homeless while his victim, in poverty and anguish and having endured three years sleeping rough because of his church, goes on suffering.

Jesus Wept. Justin the Narcissist must be silent eventually, surely?

The things that strangers said about me and the lies that your criminal clergy and laity have broadcast in the press and media, leading to hate attacks and threats against me while I was voiceless and jeered at when I even tried to answer this hatred, will never heal and can never be justified by you as anything but your wish for my death in shame and brokenness, as has nearly occured and will eventually occur.

Please make sure that there is an independent investigation into all of what has happened to me, make sure it includes me and my voice, from my books if I am dead by the time it occurs, I have written my books to ensure that I am heard in death if not in life.

Make sure that your collective actions of the past four years is stringently and completely investigated.

This includes investigation into the Steel report being continued when she was chosen by and acting for, the Jersey Deanery, why she was not withdrawn when requested, with evidence of her confliction, why the Korris report was published and labelled independent when it wasn't and why Korris broke the law and why her report was not withdrawn until I took the Bishop to court. 

Also why the Bishop kept on and on discrediting me over the Steel report, claiming to withold it for my welfare when he had not sent me a copy, but was basically telling the general public that the report was genuine and I was in the wrong. 

Claiming to care about my welfare as he and the Archbishop nearly caused my suicide and he told the general public he was feeding the conflicted lies of Steel into the conflicted Gladwin report was an act of evil. My consent for that has not been granted. I have not agreed.

The Bishop failed to tell the general public that I was forced to take him to court to save my life, he failed to tell the general public that he was supposed to make sure I agreed with the content of the Steel report before it was released. He failed to ever send me a copy of the Steel report.

None of this matter has been about safeguarding, or protecting the vulnerable, or anything meriting a million pound waste of trusting congregants' money. The outcome for me has repeatedly been near death, it has been permanent and very severe harm to my health and a lifetime of being branded that makes me long for death. There is no recovery from the kind of hatred from strangers, threats and lies that have been broadcast, none at all.

And to make it worse, the whitewash by Jersey Safeguarding partnership, cooked up by the intermeshed States, police and Deanery and used by the church to harm me further, And then the use of the 'National Safeguarding Team' to try to sweep up the pieces and cover it up, rubbing my raw wounds with sandpaper while refusing to do anything about any of your collective criminal and dangerous harm to me.

They are still refusing to act, because apparently you have 'advised' them not to, and they are employed by the Archbishop and his council, presumably to cover up while duping vulnerable victims by whining about caring about them and learning from them, as Jane Dodds did with me. I was already in enough anguish and suffering in a way that will never now relent, I didn't need that insult to injury that was the National Safeguarding Team.

 And I am continuing and will continue, to ask them to act upon your serious and criminal safeguarding failures that should have led to you collectively being removed, and one day someone will see my emails and letters to them and ask them why they didn't act.

That is evil, it is wickedness, and it beggars belief that instead of resigning, You remain, still a risk to the vulnerable and after committing such evil.
Either the Church has no clue what safeguarding means or you men should resign. As long as you stay, after taking part in such evil and refuse to take responsibility for yourselves, you know that your church isn't safeguarding anyone and isn't anything to do with God.

You completely lack integrity and you compound that by making false claims and misleading the general public while upholding dangerous men in your church and leaving me destroyed.

I have a formal complaint. It starts with abuse when I was 19 and runs to the present day, it comprises of lack of safeguarding, sexual, physical and emotional abuse, slander, illegal actions, abuse of power over the press, false claims about safeguarding, very serious harm to me, me being exposed to hatred and slander, police brutality and intrusions, homelessness and imprisonment because of your safeguarding failures, it is exhaustive, it contains a list of people's names already sent to you. I have had no adequate response. I am waiting, I am suffering.

The longer you leave it, the worse your failure in safeguarding becomes.
I will be producing and publishing a report about the National Safeguarding Team's part of this, which will be sent to the CSA inquiry no matter whether you can or cannot bribe them. But you do need to call an overarching investigation into my case, and every day that you ignore that, you harm me. While you don't safeguard, the risk of abuse is high.

The Archbishop's lack of understanding of safeguarding led to him claiming that safeguarding in Jersey is good, he appears to mistake a prolonged and power-abusive smear and discrediting campaign using the press and media against a vulnerable adult by his clergy as 'Good safeguarding'.

 Obviously his lack of understanding of safeguarding is so serious that it is a risk to vulnerable lives, he certainly nearly caused my death and until and unless that is dealt with properly, then there is a serious safeguarding breach, worse even, a complicit act of cover-up carried out by Bishop Willmott and Archbishop Welby.
And again, if most vulnerable adults are more voiceless than me, how many are being killed this way, and with the blessing of the National Safeguarding Team, who yatter lies and rubbish at the victims to try and placate them as the victims commit suicide.

If the National Safeguarding Team, who are well aware of the wrong in this matter and have said as much to me before being gagged when it was realised that I couldn't be duped and silenced, do not arrange for the resignations of the the Bishops and Archbishop over their serious harm to me, then a court or inquiry must do so, and the National Safeguarding Team should also resign.

 They are following up their failure by allowing the Dean to 'resign' lauded and honoured, again at my expense while I endure a re-awakening of the threats and attacks on me over this, some people are fooled by this resignation and the Archbishop and Bath and Wells employing that criminal, but not all.

The Archbishop claims that the Dean is a 'Godly Man', really? Has the Archbishop ever read a Bible? Didn't I send him one the other year as he continued to uphold the harm to me relentlessly? Does deceit and lies and hiding behind people of power and lawyers constitute Godly? Oh yes,  because the Archbishop does it too.

Does destroying someone the way the Dean has destroyed me count as Godly? Maybe someone switched the Archbishop's Bible for a Satanism Manual. Because what the Archbishop himself has done is evil.

There is no God or Christianity or integrity or good or safeguarding in what the Archbishop and Bishops and Archbishop's Council have done in destroying, threatening and publicly ruining me. I was already destroyed before the public attack on me was launched and I have suffered without relief while a million pounds was spent on the church's image, lawyers, PR firms, press releases and four whitewashes that are nothing to do with what happened to me.

It is time for you Godless and terrible cowards to step down. Do a lie like the Dean's 'Resignation', do it any way you want, but before you go, make sure that there is an overarching inquiry and also that Peter Ould and Gavin Ashenden who continue to attack the vulnerable unafraid, because in the Archbishop's eyes that is good safeguarding and Godly behaviour, are removed, along with Elaine Rose and all staff and clergy who have harmed me.

The Church currently don't safeguard, because they mistake safeguarding for image and segregation to protect the church. How can the comfortable middle class know what safeguarding means when they don't understand vulnerability or suffering, to the extent that they have an apartheid against the vulnerable to protect themselves?

All the high profile employment of 'people from social care backgrounds' does not remove the apartheid or the fact that these new employees are not allowed to actually safeguard because the church must be protected first.

The horrifying behaviour of Dodds, Tilby and Murray in my case, thinking they could mislead me after allowing the Bishop and Archbishop to destroy me publicly and then gag it all, is all the proof you need of that.

Make sure that I receive my copy of the Steel report as requested, you have no excuse whatsoever to withold it, and make sure any agency asking for a copy if they are concerned for my welfare, are given a copy of it, and also do not lie to any agency about being in contact with me, trying to include me in reports or trying to help me.

Please send a copy of the Steel report to the IICSA and explain to them that this is how you classify an independent safeguarding report, a report carried out by a member of the conflicted inner circle of Jersey's States, Judiciary, lawyers and Town Church who protected the Dean and destroyed me.

Let me just remind you of the blog that Bob Hill created just before he collapsed while defending me from hate attacks instigated by your Steel whitewash and the conflicted circle's need to have it published and snuff out my life with their hatred in the form of a report. Your million pound safeguarding failure and cover up cost this man his life.

http://bobhilljersey.blogspot.co.uk/2015/11/jerseys-dean-letter-to-archbishop-of.html

Your pretences of care for my welfare while you destroyed me were the same as a rapist telling his victim he loved them as he raped them. Despicable and inexcusable,  you can't cold-bloodedly destroy someone and pretend to care about them for the sake of PR, it is despicable.

And do you really think you can excuse yourselves based on what you have heard about me? It beggars belief.  You've never met me. You must resign.

sincerely,



HG/JJ -  Church of England safeguarding failure victim.

Lord Carlisle, peadophile protector appointed by the CofE



Please read this and raise my concerns before another church of england abuse victim is destroyed.

https://goodnessandharmony.wordpress.com/tag/lord-carlile/

https://www.craigmurray.org.uk/archives/2015/04/the-remarkably-unobservant-baron-carlile/

Saturday, 7 January 2017

I wish it were true



I wish this were true for me, unfortunately the reason I am writing and publishing is because I am unlikely to survive.

Random Short Story

This was a short story I found in my files, based on what happened to me in Jersey. It was amazing that I could write it without collapsing but I was given a prompt and wrote it without thinking, It is called Kangeroo Court.


Every day she huddled in the corner of the cell, shivering, sick of most of what she had eaten.
Every day she struggled, bewildered because no-one told her the rules. Prison isn't the place for someone with autism. She knew nothing about prison.
They tried to make her read what her abusers had written. But she was too sick and traumatized. What they said didn't matter, she was voiceless and they had taken her home, her job, her liberty, why try to make her read their lies? She had no defence.
Every day she huddled in the blanket, trying to keep her thoughts elsewhere. She suffered claustraphobia, and being imprisoned was terrifying.
She was a quiet, shy and mild person, and prison with it's noise and confusion terrified her. She had never dreamed of doing anything wrong, until she stood up to the powerful circle of men that her abuser belonged with.
No-one at the prison explained anything, they didn't tell her what lockdown was and when it occured, they didn't bring her any food and her blood sugar dropped too low, but there was no-one to ask for help.
She got ill and faint and her headache raged, but she had no voice, no-one to turn to.
She couldn't come to terms with prison. She couldn't cope with being put with people who had deliberately been bad.
She didn't understand prison, it wasn't her home and her work and home and her daily routines were gone, replaced by harsh lights and noise and being marched around. Her friends had all gone, and they would never come back.
The prison staff muttered about how they had no scope for an autistic prisoner and that this matter was a crying shame.
She was sick all the time and they asked her if she was deliberately being sick. They never took any notice of the fact that she had no bra and they kept telling her she was to join the prison gym sessions.
She had been removed from her home in pyjamas, and her pyjamas were a tracksuit, so everyone thought she was fully dressed, thought she was the kind of person who would wear a tracksuit during the day. She wouldn't have dreamed of doing that.
At night her nightmares flung her screaming in terror over the cell, the nightmares would be there until the end of her days - being beaten by the police, being jeered at as mad and brutalized.
And then the nightmares about being abused and fighting for justice while the abusers remained esteemed and supported and she was shunned in the community and treated as mad.
Her whole life was gone, and because she had been abused.
She had been in the remand wing for two weeks when they came and told her to choose the meals she wanted after she had been sentenced, and she collapsed in tears.
Then she was bundled into a van and pretty much flung into court.
She sat there listening, with her thumb in her her mouth, rocking backwards and forwards while the press took notes.
She didn't get to speak, she had no voice and no representative, her abuser's circle was made up of lawyers and judiciary, including the judge in front of her and the lawyers in court. She had no voice.
And while the press made their song and dance, and the abusers rejoiced in it and showed it to their friends who knew about the allegations, she was convicted and led away

Saturday, 31 December 2016

New Year's Revolutions

Hey peeps,

I remember how I was still alive and mischeevous when I used to do new year's revolutions such as converting the Church of England to Christianity, but now my back is broken, I am finished and dying branded and shamed, my only revolution is to finish writing my books before the church and their police finish killing me.

The Year 2016

It has been an incredibly hard year, not that there have been any easy years. I am only doing a brief recap of the year this year as I am moving house and am very tired and ill.
I feel I should still do an account of the year even if my heart isn't in it. And in a way I am worried that I am repeating what is already in the books 'Coming Home' and 'Homecoming'.

January.

In January this year I was somehow surviving on almost no money at all due to unfairly losing my tax credits and my work was very low as well, the winter is a hard time for gardeners and for me it was my first year back in work and I had been living hand to mouth and unable to prepare for winter. So I was in absolute poverty in January.

I was doing my best with my second term at university but it was a sad hard time. Christmas Day 2015 was the last time I saw my friend alive and she died in January of this year.

I continued to fight to rebuild my life despite the sadness and poverty, as I had no idea that the Church of England would destroy me and make it all worthless a few months later.

There was that disastrous day in January when I woke up to a leak in the roof and water dripping onto my laptop, and then Florence broke down in the pouring rain and floods in the middle of nowhere as I delivered the papers round the villages. Thankfully I managed to bump start her and get her home, but she needed a new starter motor.

I was coming to the end of my work delivering papers on the rural routes now anyway as it had been too much stress for me and Florence, and we swapped for a smaller, local round.

The wet weather and local flooding continued.

I joined a running course and was running well but it was badly arranged and hard to keep up with. When my friend died, I remember running and crying, and I renamed the blog 'The Journey Home' for some reason. Partly because Jane Fisher seemed to have vanished and I felt almost as if I had a right to live again despite losing my best friend.
I didn't get on with all my friend's family and I chose not to attend the funeral, I couldn't cope with them and I was too weak myself.

I was doing my best, despite my terror, to endure hospital appointments about my jaw as I now had a good dentist and he had been concerned about my jaw, the hospital backed up this concern and wanted to splint my jaw and do biopsies and things, but I was so tired, so ill and so I bottled out of hospital treatment. Quite apart from anything, I couldn't afford to get to the hospital and pay for parking or bus fares, I had no money and no-one was helping me.

I was attending gym regularly and getting on with a lot of exercise, and I was working a very quiet delivery driving shift and getting a lot of study done while I sat and waited for deliveries.


February

In February I started some more work to tide me over, leaflet distribution. Hard and unrewarding work but at least it kept me fit and started to bring money in.

I was treated dreadfully bu the first company I did leaflets for but I was spotted by someone who got me to take on a leaflet job for them as well, they paid me properly and I applied to get my tax credits back, and eventually I ended up doing delivery driving for them when I was treated too badly by the other place. These jobs aren't nice or permanent but what mattered was that I was earning a living.

The weather turned from wet to icy and I continued to try to lower my blood pressure after the crisis with Bob Hill's collapse had sent me into blood pressure crisis.

I decided to go ahead with my sponsored 70 mile walk even though I felt awful, depressed and ill, and I knew it would be hard doing the walk without my friend or any support.

I was walking to raise money for a charity that my youth group used to support when I was younger, because that charity came up in my university studies as a case study. I planned the walk for Easter.

I went out with my social group, a rare thing now because the damage by the church had been such that I just didn't want to go out any more. I was sad that the social group were reluctant to support my walk.

It was a leap year but I didn't propose to anyone, so my poor old neighbour downstairs remained unmarried until he died, despite the fact that he called me beautiful every time he saw me.

March 


March appears to be quite nondescript. On March 8th I fell and my house keys went flying and I did a little

I had a dream in March, it seems to have almost been a prophecy, about the police. As you know, the police turned up in September this year and I hit the roof.

This is from the dream I had in March

And the police turned up.
The police actually took things seriously and wanted to question me on what I had seen, imagine if that happened in real life!
Anyway. In the dream I was furious with the police because they have treated me so badly in real life.
So I raged at them for what they have done to me, and they stood there looking surprised.
Poor dream-officers, it wasn't all their fault!

Anyway, I woke up thinking 'What on earth!' Because that was way too vivid and cohesive.


March was nondescript, and I was short of money, and at one point I accidentally let Florence's battery go flat.


The Channel Islands were having ferry problems so I wrote them yet another poem.


The plight of the condor:


 Engine failure

mechanical issues
weather issues
new boat detained

Goodwill under water
Clipper in for repair
Liberation captured
and Islanders in Despair


I started the sponsored walk on Good Friday, trying to get ahead of the forthcoming bad weather. I didn't feel like walking or celebrating Easter, but the first day or two of the walk was good weather so I survived, I took time off from all my work except delivery driving as I was the only driver. But later in the week the weather turned very bad with wind and rain and it was hard to complete the last Great Walk.


The sponsored walk put me in the mood for a spring clean and clearout of the rubbish I owned, and that is how March ended.


April


My friend was taking me to Opera and ballet, and I liked ballet but not opera at first.


Justin Welby decided that he would announce to the world that he spat on Jesus, by using the press and media for a stunt about his various fathers. Amazinly the world let him do this and limelight seeking leaders in other churches 'supported' him.

I made a complaint to the papers and ofcom and ipso that as Welby's corporation were under investigation for systemic child rape, they should not be advertising themselves but should have the decency to be quiet while under investigation, even for the sake of their victims.

The fact that I was delivering newspapers and had to deliver Welby's narcissistic stunt to so many houses left me off work ill. And of course Welby doesn't care if one of his victims starve, as long as people are mistakenly worshipping him.


I started to try to arrange a support worker for myself but it was impossible in my poverty and the unstable situation that the church were keeping me in.

Towards the end of April I was starting to revise for a music exam and end of term assessments for university, and my landlady got me to clean a filthy flat with a dying resident in it, cleaning that flat made me ill and I was under stress over revision as well, so it wasn't an easy time.

Hillsbourough Campaigners started to win a much-deserved victory in April, and Junior Doctors started striking.

I wrote a blog post about Bob Hill, and I felt better for it, because I felt to blame for his collapse even though he had hurt me a lot in his efforts to 'solve' my case.

My landlady went through a weird phase of offering me a downstairs flat and withdrawing the offer repeatedly, leaving me confused and upset, she appeared to be having major problems in her own life and was acting bizarrely.

May

This was the month of my exams and also the month that the church destroyed me. It is hard to write about.


I am not sure I want to go through it all again. I have been destroyed and waiting to die ever since.

The music exam was at the beginning of the month, and there was already a problem with the landlady hanging around the house and being weird and I was under stress. Then the day before the exam I witnessed an accident outside the house, a collision between a van and a motorbike, which left me shocked.

I still got the exam and passed it.
But then I was ill with stress, tired and in pain from the injuries seizing up with stress.

Immediately the Church of England launched upon me as I tried to pull myself together and do my end of term assessments.

It might be easier for my health if rather than go into details of the evil committed against me by the Bishop of Winchester and Archbishop of Canterbury, aided by the National Safeguarding Team, I post this, which sums up why there was a million pound cover-up that condemned me and my life and upheld criminal wrongdoers


And so I was destroyed to cover up for evil. And there is no safeguarding in the Church of England.

The church had spent a million pounds covering up for their evil and doing so at the expense of my life and health, and they wanted to bring it to a close, at my expense, in the press and media, discrediting me and upholding the wrongoders.

The damage is done and it would have been better if I had died in May. They continue to refuse to redact their discrediting and bring an independent investigation into my case, well if they did allow an investigation a number of people would have to resign or be arrested.

June

I managed to scrape through my university exams despite there being no point in life any more.

And it was all only getting worse.

I was being plagued by an idiot called Jane Dodds who wanted the Church cover-up neatly swept away and me co-erced into saying that being utterly destroyed was fine. She was caseworker for the national safeguarding team of the church on a voluntary basis before she suddenly vanished after adding to the harm to me.

But it was all worse, the situation where I lived had already been precarious before the church destroyed me, and I felt that I had no choice but to give notice, and I did. 

My work was falling apart as well, and Florence, the car, was due her MOT and I was sure I couldn't get her through the MOT.

I was going to lose Florence and my home and the rest of my life was already destroyed by the church, it felt as if all my work in rebuilding my life had been for nothing.

Bob Hill came out of hospital after many months but he couldn't speak, he wasn't quite the same Bob.

And then my tax credits were restored, so Florence went back to her old owners to be overhauled and sold on, I took Max, her younger brother, off their hands for a bit more than I paid for Florence.

I wrote this:  http://lifeafterthediocese.blogspot.co.uk/2016/06/archbishop-abuse-case.html

Jersey's failed and disgraced safeguarding partnership started harassing me in earnest over their whitewash report into my case and trying to force me to agree to it's publication, just as I prepared to move house and just after the move.

The house move and buying Max left me short of money and I nearly became dangerously ill with low blood sugar when food ran out.

I moved to the new house at the end of June. I was utterly exhausted, destroyed by the church and not sure what to do, I knew that the new place wasn't going to be a permentant home, it was right by a pub and with no parking and was mainly benefits tenants and a lot more run down than the old place. But what could I do? Everything I had built up was smashed down.

July

I started looking for more work despite the state I was in, I couldn't afford to sit around, but I was too unsure of most of the work that was on offer, but a gardening team who I had been in contact with in the past offered me sub-contract work and I took them up on it and have been working with them part time ever since as well as doing my own gardening rounds.

Max started having catalyst problems, and as I write this, we intend to change his catalyst in the new year. But it was worrying to start with as I didn't know what was wrong.

I started writing and preparing Manuscripts, and in July I started writing 'Coming Home' which kept me sane and occupied after my whole world had collapsed and been swept away, and I managed to keep going as a result, even with increasingly vile attacks by Jersey safeguarding partnership, culminating in their famous troll attack instigated by Ian Gorst.

August

On the same day as Battle of Flowers in Jersey, I marshaled for the local carnival. I hadn't marshaled since I used to marshal for Battle when I was in Jersey. If I wasn't in such a broken state then I would have said that this was a positive sign but after the horrific unhealable wounds inflicted by the church and Jersey Safeguarding Partnership, I wasn't recovering, I just happened to marshal, and it wasn't brilliant really, I just got posted outside a local church who I had been helping and they treated me like royalty, apart from that I didn't enjoy marshaling and wasn't fit to be there. I pretended it was great and wonderful but I felt like death.

On August 22nd I published my first three books, 'Goodnight Anna', 'Coming Home' and 'The Silent World'. And the books haven't stopped. I think including some in private circulation, there are about 18, and some of those are duplicated into other forms as well, such as e-books.

I re-started my music lessons which had been ruined by the church and poverty and I was revising for a grade 5 exam.

I had no idea what was about to happen.

September 

Before the world shattered, I was preparing a new book, and I was starting to do short story competitions as well as preparing for university and revising for my grade 5 exam.

On September 3rd, in a grotesque parody of my old life, I stewarded at a local horticultural show, but to me it was just going through the motions, what I had before is gone forever, my community, my friends, my shows, the church destroyed it all, and I felt more sad and useless than anything else, but the people wanted me to start showing again for next year and they were trying to arrange me some land, which would have gone ahead if the police attack hadn't happened.

You may remember I posted this:

“I sit alone in a dead world. The wind blows hot and dry, and the dust gathers like particles of memory waiting to be swept away. I pray for forgetfulness, yet my memory remains strong, as does the outstretched arm of the oppressive air. It seems as if the wind has been there since the beginning of the nightmare. Sometimes loud and harsh, a thousand sharp needles scratching at my reddened skin. Sometimes a whisper, a curious sigh in the black of night, of words more frightening than pain. I know now the wind has been speaking to me. Only I couldn't understand because I was too scared. I am scared now as I write these words. Still, there is nothing else to do.”


Christopher Pike - Whisper of Death



September 5th 2016, it was raining in the morning, just enough to delay my work, so I was out and about, doing other things.

It was when I came back that my world stopped. I don't know if the shock and revulsion and terror will ever fade.

All was well, well as well as it could be after the horrific damage by the church and safeguarding partnership, and I was walking up to the flats, my landlord was working on the shop below the flats and he said hello and smiled, and I said hello and smiled, all normal, and then the world stopped and never re-started.

My landlord said to me 'You see that car there? That car belongs to two police, a woman and a man and they have come to see you'.

I am crying as I write this. I am severely traumatized. It was the end of my home, my safety and the last remnants of the life I had rebuilt, my safety and welfare depended on being a fugitive, and the bastards had found me.

My landlord told me that this man and woman had come all the way to find me, quite a journey, and they were 'concerned for my welfare'. They had come all the way from Jane Fisher's local police station, Jane Fisher, who repeatedly had me beaten and imprisoned to silence me for the church.

Those of you who don't know what 'concern for my welfare'  means, it means the police consider you to be insane and meriting a beating and imprisonment for your abusers.

The most horrifying things about this were that the bastards had actually been discussing me with my landlord, but worse, they had been able to trace me after all my efforts to be in hiding. I was done for, my new identity was my safety, the thing I relied on to not be branded and driven out, and the bastards would probably have ripped through my whole life, friends, community and private records and privacy and contacts, in order to destroy me again as they were doing now.

The one and only advantage I had was that the bastards had left their car and gone off somewhere.

I was hungry and I couldn't flee without my ID and food and things I needed, so I had no choice but to go into my flat.

Unfortunately the bastards came back as I did so, I had told the landlord that when they came back, to tell them to leave and never come back or I would make a harassment complaint. 
But unfortunately he had given them my phone number. And I was trapped in my home because they wouldn't leave.

Instead of leaving, the bastards tried to phone me.

I told them to leave or I would make a harassment complaint.

They weren't taking no for an answer and tried to text me.

I emailed professional standards and told them to get their bastards off my doorstep.

The bastards tried to leave but their car broke down and my landlord had to help them bump start it as they didn't know how!  He never stopped laughing but I wasn't laughing, because when they showed no sign of leaving, I climbed out the skylight and onto the roof, and I am scared of heights, I was terrified, traumatised and sobbing as my world shattered again.
I haven't recovered even now, as you may have noticed, I am very ill, and the police and professional standards have done nothing to rectify anything, nor explain this illegal violation of my home.

Well actually although the bastards left, they have been really nasty about my complaint, as have professional standards, and have jeered by sending letters in my old name for me to sign for when I am not allowed to and to see letters turning up in the flats under my old name and breaching the law and my identity change added to the horrific trauma, and as yet nothing has been done, and professional standards, knowing my new name as the police who turned up here did, also sent letters to me under every name but my own.

I haven't recovered. And there has been no resolution. I never felt safe in my home and the shock, the trauma, the revulsion, of being violated and having my new identity and new clean record ripped from me has left me deteriorating and depressed and afraid. Every time I heard a car engine I rushed to the window.

You will see from September's blog posts and lack of blog posts, that things were very bad.

My relationship with the landlord and fellow tenants was never the same again, and to be honest the whole street, gossips that they were, and the pub, knew all about it, but the police and professional standards have not apologized.

Instead of going on the run and sleeping rough permanently, I decided to hang onto my home and stand my ground. But I didn't re-settle in the flat, it stank of shame and revulsion, and the problem of the noise from the upstairs neighbour became worse and I stopped sleeping properly.

October

I continued to publish books. The Wanderer Series was halfway now.
University started and I just had to do my best despite everything.

I continued work as well.

On the Anniversary of being left homeless, I went to Southampton Airport as usual.

While working with the team we survived being pulled over at a police checkpoint.

Then I got some sad news that an old Christian friend had died. 

I went to a day school and I tried to prepare for my grade 5 exam but I was struggling so much.


November 


November started catastrophically with professional standards jeering at me over my police complaint on the eve of my grade 5 exam, I broke a tooth the same evening, and also the same evening I coughed blood as my esophogus started bleeding again. 

I went and took the exam and then my adoptive mum who was supposed to meet me afterwards didn't turn up and Max redeveloped his catalyst fault as I headed for Winchester to celebrate North Walls.

I could hardly enjoy North Walls as I was too ill, and someone parked illegally, blocking Max in and I had to risk him getting a puncture as I had to bump him over kerbs.

When I got home I was violently ill, vomiting without stopping until there was only blood and bile coming up. It was supposed to be such a special weekend and there had been no good in the year at all and the weekend had been as bad as it could be, and yes, I failed the exam. I am mortified. My exams mean so much to me and I have to pay so much for them. I won't say things can't get worse, because the next church or police attack will be my horrible and messy death.

Anyway, work and university continued, even if I wasn't doing well at university. I went back on omeprazole and my esophogus stopped bleeding.

I got befriended by an old lady but she was extremely demanding and I couldn't cope with her, she wanted me to move in and be her housekeeper and all sorts, but I will tell you in full another time about that, it was totally unsuitable even if I was looking for another home.

My old dentist who was the only good dentist I ever saw, had left the practice and the new one filed my broken tooth down and had a bridge made up, but she kept ramming this bridge onto my sore gum and she wasn't English and didn't seem to understand that she was hurting me, I never wore the bridge in the end.
It is so unfair that I had found a good dentist and then he left.


December

December started with a bang. The bangs and crashes were from the upstairs neighbour at 2.45am in the morning, and I gave my notice when the landlord wouldn't do anything about this.

So I spent December looking for a new home and packing up my stuff.

I was very depressed and unhappy, but work and university continued, and I was offered a temporary home.
I was relieved at the thought of leaving the home that the police had destroyed, I was terrified every day that I remained there.

I tried to keep my life normal and prepare both for Christmas and the house move. It was stressful and I messed up a music assignment but scraped a pass.

My books about homelessness were beginning to grow a following.

Christmas arrived, and it wasn't too awful in some ways.

I enjoyed all the Christmassy television  and the lights and decorations, I was worried about money, because having put a deposit on the new place etc, I hadn't enough even for food, let alone celebrations, but several people stepped in and all was well.

I had just been to midnight mass and as I walked home, the police had closed the road and there was a dead man there, he had been murdered. That cast a shadow over Christmas a bit.

On Christmas morning I went to church and then spent the day with some people who live nearby, it was a nice enough day.

On boxing day I went to support the boxing day swim and came home, there was a strange man hanging around and I asked the police if it was a crackpot or one of their DCs, because this man hung around for ages and rang my doorbell but I didn't recognize him, he may have been a parasitic reporter about the murder up the road.

Anyway. I moved house a few days later and I am here at the new house, just finishing telling you about this terrible devastating year, and it sounds like many people have had a bad year.

The USA have a new president and the UK are leaving the Eurpoean Union and everyone us stressed and uncertain, it hasn't been a good year for anyone. But for me it has been pure hell and there seems to be no way it can get better, the damage to me can't really be repaired.

Happy New Year.