This gets a mention especially because of the comments

And especially because of the comment by planet Autism.

Hampshire Social services have treated me like shit to protect Jane Fisher and the Diocese of Winchester, and social services as a whole are a disgrace and an outdated form of harm to society.

http://www.communitycare.co.uk/2014/12/08/must-never-disbelieve-sometimes-actions-involved-cause-hurt/?utm_content=buffer681f0&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter.com&utm_campaign=buffer

The terrible thing is...

This blog has been running since November last year and has survived Peter Ould's attacks on it.

But it barely tells my story, because the trauma blanks my mind, as I said in my letter to Jersey 'Safeguarding' (what a joke) panel, so I can keep blogging but can't tell my story, while the church, loud and unchristian have slandered and smeared me to all and sundry and make my trauma out to be madness and badness, and the fact I can barely cope, and get angry, as most survivors do, doesn't help.

I remember last year, at the church cafe, how a volunteer there said when he heard I had Asperger syndrome 'Oh, so you are likely to get all angry on me?'
A misconception,
and some judgemental unChristian person on 'clerical whispers' or 'Thinking Anglicans'
said that my 'criminal behaviour' was nothing to do with autism and she worked with people with autism and they were all gentle and quiet.
What an ignorant unchristian narrowminded and judgemental person.

No-one who calls themselves a Christian should be making any such damaging judgements.

The truth is, someone on the Autism Spectrum, when put under terribly stressful conditions is likely to get angry and lash out in one way or another,
and my circumstances were such that I could not contain my anger, regressed by a man who said he was my God-sent Dad, when regression was dangerous considering my original childhood, and left regressed to be driven from the community and maligned as a result of reporting abuse, dealing with a stressful police case and then a police beating and police nastiness and detention as a punishment for reporting the abuse.
I never recovered, and as I continued to suffer for reporting the churchwarden, I continued to deteriorate.
When nasty judgemental strangers lie about me and condemn me, they should try living through what I have and am living through.

The reality about the autism spectrum is that frustration and poor behaviour control or understanding of our emotions may cause us to lash out, I did, but I was having to cope with more than I was capable of coping with.

from the article in the Guardian - so it's not just me who suffers

"The cruelty, the unkindness, the lack of understanding towards people with autism is horrifying. Not just police and social services, but people, the public," she said. "Adrian was lovely, a fantastic lad and so special to us. It's the way other people treated him that was the problem."

This is Essential Reading -because THIS is what it is like!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

http://www.theguardian.com/society/2014/jun/14/autistic-adults-abused-by-friends-survey?CMP=twt_gu

It made me cry, because it is true, police and social services treat us like sh*t, treat us as mad, and no one does a damn thing to help when we are being hurt and abused, no one is stopping the Diocese of Winchester driving me to my death! And too late, they will wake up, when I am dead and do loads more inaccurate and defamatory reports about how I could have been helped.

The police, the church and me, part 1.

The police, even those in Jersey who are supposedly SPELL trained, have no understanding of autism and no wish to understand it, it comes under 'madness' to them and they treat people with autism as such, their attitude to madness is singularly that it is a crime, to brutalize someone and not allow a complaint because 'madness' means that your bruises and pain are not real, they are all in your mind.

The first police brutalization was in Basingstoke, in the year before I went to Jersey, this was as a result of me making the Lihous go home after they spent a day with me in Dorset making my life an utter misery with their relentless boasting, I had no money at the time and was in debt and worried sick, trying to complete college, the Lihous did the usual, boasting incessantly about all the things their grandchildren in Jersey and Guernsey had, I was shamed, belittled and miserable and in the end shouted at them and told them to go home and stop boasting.

They did but when I went to apologize, George Lihou chased me up the road shouting and saying I made his wife ill, he did not tell his wife he did this, and I ran and ended up in a terrible state a mile away and unfortunately the police found me, decided I was mad, brutalized me and forcibly flung me in a cell, I was seen by a doctor who told them to release me as there was no mental illness - not true in the fact I was battling horribly with depression because Jill Lihou had had me put on a dangerous drug that she was supposed to guard and administer and yet claimed to me that it made her ill doing so.

When the police found me, I wasn't doing anything criminal, just sitting in my car, depressed and despairing, I had been suffering the Lihous boasting and controlling and decision making for a year and was struggling through college with no money while every conversation with the Lihous was about what their family had, private schools, music lessons, dance lessons, holidays, etc, the Lihous refused offended when I asked them if we could talk less about what their family had while I was battling in poverty to get through college.

I was mentally ill in that the Lihous were making me ill, I was not delusional, hallucinating or schitzophrenic, but the police both treated me as if I was mad and beat and flung me about and locked me up for it.
It remains a baffle to me as to why the police are not aware that suicide is not a crime and distress is not a good reason to beat someone and throw them in a cell and then release them - the end result likely is that person, already distressed, now severely traumatized, is released to commit suicide.

Anyway, when I went to North Walls in October 2010, when Lou Scott-Joynt had accidentally phoned me instead of phoning my friend of mine who she intended to phone to get the Diocese's side of things accross, the police treated me as mad then, and said 'this has happened before, hasn't it?' leaving me baffled as they did not say what 'this' was, again, branding me as mentally ill and thus not valid.And the police refused to prevent the diocese from contact with or about me, and instead repeatedly met with them and the council, breaching confidences and the date protection act repeatedly.

Even though I had been released from Basingstoke police station at 2am suffering severe trauma from my beating for the crime of suspected insanity, with the doctor declaring me not mentally ill.
It is a funny pattern that the police never recognize the results of the assessment and release each time, and continue to treat me as mad just because they have beaten me and locked me in.

The police had moved my car, and it had almost no petrol in it for me to get home.

So, Basingstoke was the first church-related police beating and detention in 2007 or 2008.

The Lihous afterwards, George did not tell Jill he had shouted at me, chased me or blamed me for her mental illness, which she had been suffering for decades, which had in the past led to her hoping her children would die, but funnily enough I do not believe she was beaten and locked up for those incidences or any other, and she did do some unusual things in her illness, not least having me put on a drug that my body didn't cope with, and telling the doctor she would administer it as she was a former nurse, and then telling me that looking after my drugs made her ill.

So, Jill had no idea Goerge had shouted and chased me when I came to apologize, and was deeply upset when I refused to stay with them every time she asked -they had gone from having me home every weekend to when it suited them, with no input from me and input from their family in Jersey instead, Reverend Phil Warren and Heather Warren, the daughter that Jill wished dead when she was younger.

So, when I finally went back to the Lihous, Jill asked why I cringed and tried to escape from George, and I told her, I thought she knew, he chased and shouted at me, she didn't and it made her upset again, when George came home she confronted him, and he muttered 'sorry' and turned away, which was not enough to repair things, and I was always very uncomfortable with him after that, especially when Jill started crying in church because I was narrating the drama and then helping with sidesmans duties, I do not know why that made her cry but she was like that, always upset and very intense about things, and I fled church for fear of George going mad again.

The relationship with the Lihous was never healthy and never recovered. Nor did I, the injustice and Post-Traumatic Stress of the police beating hadn't gone by the time I arrived in Jersey.
The record it gave me horrified me, because I hadn't done anything wrong to be so brutally flung around, and I was left with massive bruises and shock, and I had to try and explain to my landlady and college why I was injured and shocked.

I also saw my doctor, who mentioned trauma but did nothing.

And the branding for being in despair over the Lihous affected my record all the way to Winchester in 2010, where the police disregarded my complaint as that of a 'mad person' even though I was assessed as free from mental illness, and this happened in Jersey as well and back in Winchester, basically vulnerable people who get to a point where they cannot cope, are treated with contempt by police because of their inability to cope, so I was and have been, left with the Church harming me, and no defence because the police consider their detentions of me to mean I am insane and not credible.
I wonder how many other vulnerable people suffer and die horribly this way and are branded 'mentally ill' if they commit suicide as the result of trauma or lack of protection from their tormentors.

And where are the Diocese in this? Using the Lihous against me, because the Diocese only heard one side, from the Dean-Warrens-Lihou-Montague collaberation to try and clear all the wrongdoers and brand me.

Funny how George Lihou sent me a snotty note about how I was to forgive, when I told the Lihous I was traumatized by what happened, and yet they have remained unforgiving their part in condemning me for what happened, one sided, my side unheard.

The other thing, I nearly missed out, the police do not understand conditions such as autism and trauma, and so when they put me in a tiny cage, after brutalizing me in front of my fellow homeless in Winchester in 2011, and untruthfully claiming I tried to bite one of them when I ducked my head as he continued to throw me around, I was frozen with terror, and instead of letting me calm down, the police dragged me by my jumper accross the police yard, choking me and exposing me.
If this is how they treat people who are considered to be ill, who are traumatized and claustrophobic, what hope is there?

I am autistic and touch sensetive, especially in my upper arms, each police brutality has involved brutally tight squeezing of my upper arm, leaving bruises, and for no reason, I am not violent, I was terrified each time, frozen in terror, and that is what they did to me as a result.
I get the feeling it is an almost enjoyable experience for the police to beat and brutalize defenceless people, each time they are smiling, laughing, talking about their personal lives.

In Winchester in 2011, the police apparently acted out of Jane Fisher's 'compassion' after the public brutalization and locking me in a cage and dragging me by the scruff of the neck through the policeyard, and instead of locking me in the cell, left the door open and sat in the doorway, as if that was any less terrifying or as if what had already been done had not been done, I am scarred for life by that incident and will never recover.
The police kept me for 24 hours, jeering I was mad, talking outside the cell of a hospital to send me to, refusing, even when asked by my former counsellor, to get a female officer to see me, and an appropriate adult, they told my former counsellor that they 'couldn't change things to suit me', even though they were obliged to make provision for me as a vulnerable adult, they did not.

I was released utterly traumatized, each time I am beaten and locked in for being distressed, the injury it has caused has left me very ill and unable to function and has left me scarred for life, the horror of the diocese being able to trace me as they have, through those same police, and release press reports and try and silence me, has left me living in terror and unable to live a full and normal life.
Why is the law one-sided on the side of those who have power, why are the Diocese allowed to harm me and I am not allowed to protest because the police branded me incorectly?

My psychological report.

http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/for-limited-time-only-here-is-my.html#.U3jGltJdXJk

NOT Duty of Care

Jane Fisher's incessant interference behind my back and without my consent led to me abandoning and mistrusting help and support services and also being shunned.

One of the services she interfered in was autism Jersey, even though I told Philip LeClaire expressly not to communicate with her or be a go-between.

Her interference meant I did not trust Philip at all, especially after what had already occured, see my letter to the police complaints department a few posts ago.

It is incorrectly claimed I kicked up a fuss at autism Jersey when Philip told me about the 'Chaperoning policy' that the churchwarden was supposed to be under.
This is rubbish.
It is rubbish because I told Philip he was not to tell me what the Diocese said, and he was not to act as  go-between, and he never did tell me what they said, but he claimed, incorrectly, that they had removed the churchwarden from his position, that is all he said when I told him not to upset me again by repeating anything Fisher said back to me.

Because by then Jane Fisher was just a severe trauma to me.

She still is.

Jane Fisher tried to use Philip to get a meeting with me, just as she tried to use Tracy.
She was told NO and told not to use people.
After all, she hadn't dealt with my complaints and had rubbished me and allowed me to be harmed and coldly told me that what happened did not.

lets go back 36 - poverty

Here in the village the couple were anti-church, one of their family and one of them had had hell from the Church of England and they were disgusted with the church, this startled me, because despite my own bad experiences I was still very much pro-church. But I had tremendous respect for this couple, they had both lost their spouses from cancer at the same hospital at the same time, had comforted each other and had married, between them they had six children, and what I admire most was that the woman's four children were adopted siblings, all badly abused, she and her first husband had adopted all four in order to keep them together, had worked with them through their problems and disabilities and raised four children who despite having problems, all went on to lead lives of their own, I have profound respect for her for this.

So the lady almost understood problems, and was inordinately patient with me as I had grown more disturbed from my continued problems, and her husband was also extremely patient with me, they were patient with my lack of money as well, the college hardship fund started subsidising my rent, but between petrol and creditors, my money tended to be gone before I got it, but I managed to keep up the rent payments.

I had trouble eating sometimes, they were puzzled by this, but learned that I could not usually eat a big meal and kept to simple food, the great thing about their house was that there was limitless cups of tea, and I could make a pot, I loved to hurtle home from college, make a big pot of tea, and put my favourite programme on TV ‘My parents are aliens’ on, and if you ever want a deep insight into what it is like to be high functioning autistic, then watch that programme, it also gives you an insight into some of my humour. After watching TV for a bit, I would head back to college for library study and planning to travel the world.

I liked the couple I lived with, but had almost nothing in common with them, they loved animals though, and being busy with volunteer work, which helped, they had a dog and a cat when I arrived, and got a mad puppy when I was there, they religiously took the dogs to kennel club training, and the cat would come and curl up with me as I watched telly, and I loved that.

I loved college as well, it was far too stressful, but I loved it, I was not one of the most able students, but I got some very good grades, I was the quietest student and found the social side of college very hard, and was glad that it was a very small college compared to the one in Hampshire, that helped, sometimes I made the effort to go with the other students and hang out in the hostels but I wasn’t really interested, they just sat around and talked about drunken binges and computer games and TV shows, when if I was on my own at break I would have been walking by the beautiful lake and getting a hot drink and a snack, I would have been in the library or on the farm, try as I did, I could not bring purpose to hanging out with the other students.

 And that is how it has been and is in my life, the more I try to be a social person, the more tired and hopeless and lost I feel, alone I am efficient, I carry out necessary routines, I sit alone and read, I listen to music and I escape the hopeless tennis games of conversation, but I made a big concerted effort at college, I didn’t want to repeat my life at the old college, so I went out for a few drinks with the others, didn’t enjoy it, went bowling with one of my fellow students and spent time with her and enjoyed that, went to the pub and played pool with landlady's daughter and her spouse several times, and enjoyed that but panicked a lot each time.
 
Back to the grim Lihou and finance issues, Jill and George decided they would come and see me, and I wondered if I really wanted that, but I agreed, they were coming for the whole of my day off, despite the problems we were having.

Just to mention, my toy Lion, Joj, was not named after George, not sure why that is written here but I may as well include it.

lets go back 35

I went to Jill and George's for the weekend after that, on their invitation, I got to the house and Jill and George had left the key for me as they were out somewhere, I heard that a message from Paul on the answer machine to Jill about me, Paul was not prepared to help me any more with finances, and his wife was kicking up a fuss about him involving himself, Paul wasn’t just someone who was helping with finances and letting me down, he was my friend and mentor, and I was deeply upset, I loved him as I loved George and Jill, I asked why this was happening and Jill said it was about Paul’s wife being worried he would have another breakdown, as he was another person who had had a breakdown not long before he retired.

 George said it was because there were concerns about me and Paul being too close, I was furious and asked what the grounds for that was, George just said ‘oh, well we have seen things happen before in our old church’, and again I was furious, nothing had happened between me and Paul, in fact nothing had happened with my finances and debt situation that he had promised to help with by communicating with people for me about, by now the CAB were beginning to help me as Paul was not.

I was furious and hurt at George’s answer, and told him I was gay, I had made no seductive moves on Paul and would not dream of it, nor had he tried it on with me as far as I know, he came round later, bringing the paperwork that he had had for my finances and he didn’t even speak to me, he tried to get Jill and George to get me to go to a place in Somerset called CAP, to get help with my money, but the CAB were now helping me and I was not travelling all the way to a strange place with strange people on the advice of a man who let me down, I went round to Paul’s and threw the paperwork back at him in a temper, I never saw it again, and I returned £20 that Jill and George tried to lend me to go to the CAP place, because it was beyond my capabilities and I was very hurt.

These horrible, needless wounds and shame were inflicted on me by the Church of England and have remained with me as the Church of England destroyed me. These wounds have not gone but have been reinforced and reinflicted by the Diocese and Deanery, and there are undoubtedly other lone and vulnerable people wounded by the church but who have no voice, and are left suffering as I was.

 I avoided Paul in church after that, I loved the church and the services, but the hurt of Paul was bad and coloured every service and every weekend with Jill and George and made our relationship more difficult. The last few times I have seen him he has seemed to think it alright to talk to me, but for me it still wounds me, though it is well forgiven, I avoid that place as all the wounds there still hurt me, though they are indeed forgiven.

Further rows came up when Jill said she hadn’t been talking to Paul about me previous to that incident, and I told her she had because I had heard the messages on the answer machine and seen his email to George about me. She tried to change what she was saying then and I was angry and said a naughty word, not at her but about what she had said and then changed, and I got into even more trouble with them later on for saying that word, instead of it being addressed then and there, I couldn’t get things right in that friendship, and I have always carried a burden of guilt and sorrow, and have now been condemned as wicked for what was an emotionally impossible relationship which was forgiven and forgotten.

The family in Weymouth were a troubled family, the man was a prison officer with a violent temper, the woman was a supermarket worker who did nightshifts, she had such a sweet honest face that I thought I could trust her, but they fought in the night when coming on and off shifts, their daughter had a ‘partner’ and a three year old girl who was looked after during the day by the supermarket worker mother, and they fought over the three year old because the grandmother treated her as if she was her mother and was possessive of her, the daughter was equally possessive but happy to relay the care of the child to her grandmother, then there was a grownup son who lived in the attic and had a girlfriend, it was hard for me to live in this house with all this unmarriedness going on, and then there was an 11 year old boy who was sweet natured and kind, and I worried for him because all around him was shouting, immorality and bad language, I remember listening in horror as this young boy’s adult brother called him gay repeatedly, and for no good reason, how can an 11 year old be gay? And how can someone call him gay when there is no reason to?

Anyway I was helping out in the kitchens of a private Boys School some evenings and that was starting to ease the problems, and I got a bit of food there and had nice colleagues, but I found it difficult, one of my extreme autistic reactions is to metal, stainless steel, pots and pans, knives, kitchen utensils, I find it hard to be near kitchen metals and the noise they make, which is why I use plastic cutlery and avoid kitchens, the other problem was getting the petrol to get to the school, it was only just profitable, and when it came to lambing time I simply had to give up.

It made me sad, the woman often had tears in her eyes from rows, the man was ferocious, and I was mildly reminded of JM’s niece and partner by them, partly the similar looks, the tears, and the rows. I started looking, with help, for a new lodgings, I was in Weymouth for between a month and 6 weeks, and had struggled badly to pay the rent and cope with finances and the difficult journey along a congested road to college every morning; it took an hour to get through the traffic from Weymouth to Dorchester in the morning, compared to an hour and a half journey up to Hampshire for weekends.

One day the man was endlessly angry, he kept shouting and he started shouting about me and calling me arrogant, saying that I was selfish because the 11-year old had offered to heat up some supper for me and I had absentmindedly said yes, not knowing he was eating his own supper at the time, the man was going on about the boy leaving his supper to get cold for my sake, I had no idea, and had simply said yes to the boy’s questions, and I am blind in that way, I want everyone to be happy and so I go along with things, but the man said the way I hardly spoke was arrogance – this isn’t the first time that has been said, and it breaks my heart, anyway he continued to be rude and insulting until I put him in his place, how does an autistic disturbed person stand up to an aggressive prison officer? Don’t ask! But I did. And he did know I was autistic by the way, the previous allegations of arrogance came from people who did not know. George Lihou reassured me on the phone that arrogant was the last thing I was, which was nice.

My new home in a village near Dorchester, a luxury compared to Weymouth, a room with a big double bed and a freeview TV, cupboards and surfaces to put things in and on, mirrors, soft bed, my own bathroom which was a really luxuriant one, I felt human again. Though the worst with Jill and George was yet to come, and the debt problem became immense, this home brought me comfort.

The house in Weymouth was a little terraced house in a grimy street in the rather rough tourist town of Weymouth, the new home was a nice quality detached house in a village 10 or 15 minutes from college, it was in a quiet cul-de-sac, and I was much better off being in a quiet house in a quiet street than in a chaotic house in a chaotic town.

My story seems extreme, but it is all true, I know that many abuse survivors and survivors of institutional abuse such as that in Ireland, can have trouble expressing their stories because the extremes are hard for a normal person to comprehend, and to be disbelieved or told your story isn't credible is a terrible wound.

lets go back 28 - Maudsley and NZ

In my old town, I felt hopeless and useless, working for the takeaway doing delivery driving part time and suffering out of control depression and exhaustion, I also started working for Neighbourcare, a charity that helps old and infirm people with things, I worked as a gardener for them but felt too shy of the customers, too lacking in confidence and struggling with paperwork that I had to do each time I did a garden. It was a time of complete and utter wretchedness for me. Deep depression and exhaustion.

I was taken to the Maudsley Hospital in London by the Hypochondriac couple, and after a day of tests that exhausted me, I was diagnosed as being on the autistic spectrum and also as suffering from Social phobia and depression, I was put on an anti-depressant called venaflaxine and I think this was suggested to the doctors by the hypochondriacs when they were interviewed about their views on me, as one of them took venaflaxine, but unfortunately it didn’t work for me, it made my blood pressure go wrong and made me feel ill.

 I was also referred for psychiatry and it was recommended that I had behavioural therapy, the psychiatry didn’t seem to achieve anything constructive and so it drifted away, behavioural therapy was as impossible to get as anger management, being not available on the NHS and too expensive privately and hardly available privately in Hampshire at all, I tried really really hard to climb these barriers, and failed, I applied for funding, I asked charities, I asked the newspaper,  I asked for reduced fees, I asked the Maudsley to help, but to no avail, so I was alone, alone with the shock of being diagnosed and knowing that my problem was not just trauma, but a lifelong condition that meant I would always be alone, misunderstood and struggling. My friendship with the hypochondriac couple was breaking down anyway, which also added to my problems. The maudsley also got me to go back for a brain scan, I went alone and for all that trouble, stress and expense I was never given the results.
I really want to know if the scan showed brain damage, as that is a possibility and if only I knew, I could get more help and get better.

In a way though, the diagnosis allowed me to step into my skin and to stop being just ‘awkward’, ‘troublemaker’ and everything else I was called, I was autistic and living independently and working and looking after myself as best I could. But people never have stopped misunderstanding me and being angry and upset with me, even when I put every ounce of my effort into trying to be ‘normal’ and trying to do the right things. The autistic disorder is a life sentence really.
(Although I have come to realise that what helps keep an even keel is a great deal of solitude)

The relationship with the hypochondriac couple was breaking down, they took me to local mental health services  in order to try and help further before they obviously planned to abandon me, and I didn't know how to sustain or end a friendship then,

But the mental health services said I didn’t appear to meet their criteria at all and autism wasn’t a mental illness and so I should just read a book, I cannot remember what book, I only remember that the woman we spoke to was hiding behind her hair and wouldn’t even look at us, and that the hypochondriac man stayed behind to talk to her without my permission to talk about me, and I wandered off in distress and got lost.

The hypochondriac couple themselves had some sort of mental health problems, the man had had a breakdown at work before retiring, I think he said he was bullied, but I am not positive, but he had been reliant on anti-depressants for years, his wife had some sort of social anxiety disorder and told me at one point that my way of going out and helping in the church and community helped her to have confidence to want to do more, which is nice, but I should have known better to have let this fragile couple get so involved, it hurt them, it hurt me, and here I am condemned for it. I carry all the condemnation for everything, and no one else does.

 Anyway, a few stressed wars of words and a few letters ended my relationship with the hypochondriacs, I paid them back some money and I saw them sometimes after that and never wanted to speak to them, at one point they greeted me and this was while I was on the stronger meds and I didn’t recognise them, but they weren’t the only ones I didn’t recognise, my memory for people and faces faded a bit when I was on the meds Jill Lihou had me put on on condition that she would supervise the situation, I didn’t recognise (another couple) either.

JM went on her sabbatical, starting in a quiet cottage somewhere, without FM, just her and the dog, she kept her phone with her and on and gave me her number so I could ring her, which surprised me, and was kind of her. No-one else had her mobile number apart from her family, she didn't usually use a mobile.

JM took me to New Zealand, but it was a struggle, there were tensions between us because of the unresolved FM issue and JM determinedly telling me it was six of one and half a dozen of the other, New Zealand was a hell of a shock for an autistic person, probably the most drastic change of scene and routine I could have had, and we were stressed with each other, but we had fun and adventures, but I felt guilty all the time that I was so anxious and stressed that it cannot have been much fun for JM, it still hurts my heart that she really meant it well, but I was unsettled as anyone autistic is when they have such a big change of scenery, and to make it worse I had the worst set of flashbacks ever while we were there, I wondered if JM thought I had gone insane.

When we met up with her friends there she obviously told them something unhelpful because they treated me extremely gingerly and I felt unwelcome. JM has always been the master of emphatic concrete and totally incorrect pronouncements about me, which had been alienating me from the minute I first came to the Church of England.

lets go back 18, aged 21-23

I mentioned the supervisor, she was growing more and more irrational and angry as her long term relationship broke up, she crashed the works van a few times, and she was really laying into us, calling me stupid when I asked her a genuine question about what saw to use for my work and asking me why I couldn’t do an absolutely straight line when putting in a new edge on a border – because I was not as perfect as she was, but the worst thing she was doing was taking her anger out on my epileptic colleague, causing him to drink and neglect himself and not turn up for work and to have constant fits, which upset me a lot, he lost teeth while I was there because his fits got so bad.

I stuck my neck out to defend him repeatedly and determinedly, which brought her utter wrath down on my head, ‘STOP TAKING YOUR ANGER OUT ON SOMEONE WHO IS EPILEPTIC!’ I shouted, me, the quietest person on site, I was misunderstood even on this site for disabled people, because I spoke so little and couldn’t greet people, I was not diagnosed autistic, and so no one knew why I was silent.
(Which, until I was diagnosed, and even since, has caused a lot of people to be angry with me).

But my outbursts of anger came as this woman started to wind everyone up, she snapped at good-natured ***** and *****, so **** kept storming out and going home cursing her, *** was in so much trouble with fits and not coming to work, and *****was depressed and going drinking at the club, the team was in disarray when I went and told the Boss that I was not working for this supervisor any more.

 And then JM involved herself, behind my back, against my wishes, and certainly not to my benefit, and caused me great embarrassment and she seemed to think, without knowing anything, that I was to blame for the confrontation, JM wasn’t there to see this stupid woman coming to work with a hangover and admitting she had drunk a whole bottle of wine the previous night, and so JM’s damaging interference that had started at college went on, and on throughout my adult life. I badly fell out with JM and told her off, but I also let it blow over as I loved her, she actually seemed surprised when I told her we could put it behind us, and she was pleased too.  And the boss began to clamp down on this stupid supervisor who tried very hard to ensure she did not get into any trouble for her behaviour, used JM to help with that, because she had decided to train as a teacher and did not want a black mark on her record for bullying me and ***, but her behaviour was not just to me, and was not unnoticed, and I worked with the chargehand from then on, as I looked for a new job.

Employment officers, the original man who had helped me into employment and supported me went to work in another department, I was provided with another employment officer, this was during the supervisor’s reign of terror, he was an impatient man and when he met with me and I couldn't say nothing he shouted at me, I told him, without swearing or cussing, to go away and never get in my away again, DO NOT SHOUT AT CLIENTS. He obliged, and along came a very dynamic South African man instead, to replace him, who had tremendous similarities to the man at College who had been my mentor and had had so many fictitious careers and experiences.

 This new man was dynamic, he was determined to change my world and make me into a high flyer. But he was overambitious and obviously had problems of his own, this could be nothing but a repeat of the previous disaster.

This man kept going on about how he had to gain my trust and how he wanted me to trust him, I was puzzled, why? He told me had he was a South African Diplomat who had been an ambassador for South Africa, and how he had had a big house with servants and everything paid for by the government and how they had had a beautiful garden and a pony in a paddock and how he had had to get permission to marry his wife, and how he used to be in navy, at the time I just took all this at face value, though I didn’t understand why he had moved from that to a miserable terraced house in Portsmouth and then to a miserable little house in my town, he was very open about where he lived, his family, the children’s schools and things, I wondered why he was telling me all about his personal life, and I wasn’t very interested, but he told me it was because he wanted me to trust him. A few years later as a delivery driver I used to deliver takeaways to his house, he was surprised to see that I had passed my driving test and was working unsupported and in an industry that required customer service, albeit minimal and scripted.
He even wanted me to meet his wife and for JM to meet him.

My boyfriend, G, had moved back to Southampton and was working for the council looking after the cemetery, and for a while we decided it was too far away for us to continue our relationship, which was very sad.

But then something unexpected happened in my life, I met a girl, I never expected such a thing to happen, but there one evening was a girl sitting on the wall near the concrete, she was crying, I soon found out that this was very rare for her, but there she was crying, and despite my autism and communication problems, I do ask people if they need help if I find them crying, so I asked her if she was ok, she didn’t say anything, so I stood there, then she told me her guitar string was broken, I puzzled over that and wondered if she was like me, as I was sure it was not the end of the world, but somehow we got talking; she had black hair with green streaks, she was a talented musician and singer, she like Goth things and art, she was very different from me in many ways, but in some ways we were the same, we got to know each other and I was jealous of her musical talents because I have music going through my veins and I wanted so much to learn to express it.

 I got my own guitar so she could teach me, she also played and loved her banjo, I had a keyboard, but my playing was slow, one handed and by ear, so I tried hard to sing along to her playing, but my dysphasia made it difficult.
Her name was ****, she was gay, we got on well, I got involved, I started reading ‘Diva’ and going to the gay club with her, but there was one thing I couldn’t do, I couldn’t sleep with her.
**** was quiet but she had a wicked temper very occasionally, same as me, and I remember JM laughing when I told her I had been hit by a flying saucepan, she said something to one of the church about me having a saucepan shaped bruise which was why I couldn’t kneel at the altar, JM seemed to like me being gay, she never met ****, but she met G.

When G. and I got back in touch I told him sadly that I thought I was gay, he said he didn’t mind, he wanted to marry me anyway, I don’t things could have got more complicated than that.
G. was very straightforward, me having a slight confusion about who I was, didn't phase him.

But because I could not bring myself to sleep with ****, and dancing was not enough for her, we were struggling, I am sad about this, it got more and more upsetting, **** went to Ireland to her mother.
And as for me, I have never puzzled out my sexual orientation because I am not really mature enough to have one or care.

  I missed **** and was lost, but G. comforted me, I started to make that long journey to Southampton to meet up with him, we would walk round Southampton holding hands, we would stop and have a cool glass of coke at the pub, we would go to the Cinema, I wasn’t used to cinema, but he was and he taught me how to buy tickets, so I soon relaxed, it is actually a reasonably comfortable environment for me, the sound is a bit loud and the screen a bit bright, but I can cope. I remember us seeing a gangster film while we held hands and behaved ourselves in the back row,  and G’s dad, a senior police officer, gave us a lift home, he listened to us plotting robberies and drugs hauls as he drove us home, he thought we were hilarious.

So, my confidence was rocked by work difficulties, but it wasn't surprising that in an environment where even the supervisor had problems and needed support, there would be problems, and my lack of diagnosis made it harder for everyone.
But this was also the time when I almost matured into an adult in the relationships sense, I didn't quite make it, but I am lucky to remember two sweet friendships at that time, G, and ****.

 

Bullet point chronology 3 from the other blog

• After I moved to my lodgings away from Winchester, I really was standing on my own two feet at last, aged 20, which was not too surprising because in everything I was usually a few years behind everyone in my age group and really quite immature and childlike. But I wanted to progress and be independent.
• I continued to return to the Vicar's benefice weekly as I was heavily involved in church groups and events and also because I still had gardens to look after in the Vicar's benefice and Winchester as well as my work during the week.
• I also started to attend the church in my new town. Interestingly the smear campaign in Jersey that blames me for all problems I have had in the Diocese of Winchester omits that I have been to several churches including this one where I had no trouble further than the usual social and communication difficulties.
• the  church at the time was run by a Vicar and his wife, this vicar was a big tall hearty man, known in town as 'The Giant'. Interestingly, but this is a theme throughout my story, he had connections with my churches at Winchester. This Vicar had been the Vicar of the churches at Winchester that my Vicar friend now ran, and there had been problems and quarrels after he left because he kept coming back and leading and taking services even when my Vicar friend was installed, and they had had quite a row and she professed to dislike him, she told me that she had had to ask the Bishop of Winchester to intervene. She told me that it was the only time she had ever got any help or co-operation at all from Bishop Scott-Joynt.
• It's funny that this dysfunctional diocese blames me for everything isn't it?
• Anyway, so I began to worship at a combination of  church in my town and the churches in the Winchester benefice,  I found the town church very different and I got caught up in what I did not know would be known as 'Charismatic' worship, the Diocese of Winchester appear to want all their churches to lean towards charismatic, and that is driving away people who want more steady worship, which is sad, but anyway, I got caught up in it, I had experienced it previously at  Church in Winchester, where again I was perfectly ok and got to know a few people although my vicar friend did cause problems between me and some other  Church people in Winchester in her interventions which were to become a habit in my life right up until I was in Jersey. But anyway, Winchester Church and my town Church, so far so good, no abuse, no-one taking over my life or crossing professional boundaries, no-one taking control of me, and so I was ok.
• But on the other hand I wasn't ok, because no-one really understood my lack of communication skills and Charismatic churches are all bright and friendly on the outside but your problems go deeper and you can't 'God them away' people lose interest and are not sure what to do.
• So I got a variety of reaction to my problems, there was a group of young people, my age, one of whom befriended me and remained a friend, she lived up the road from me and we did various things together, the other young people, mainly men, were also shy, and we never knew what to say to each other, while the girl who became my friend was very charismatic and said she would never marry a man who was not a Christian, but the other young men weren't interested in going out with her and she said she was lonely.
• Anyway, the other people in church, the Vicar was the one who made the teas and coffees after church in the evening, and I asked him why, and he said no-one would bother to help him or even stay if he didn't. So I got into the routine of helping him.
• The church people were variable, as a large group of people are, some were friendly, some didn't understand me, but there were no real problems. Someone once thought I 'stormed out' during a hymn, but actually it was because of the sharpness of the violin that someone, I think it may have been the Vicar's wife, was playing, I was undiagnosed and did not understand that sharp noises hurt me because of AS, but it was actually someone in the church who helped me to realise I was on the Autistic Spectrum, as well as talking to me about hypersensitivity.
• It remained that there were no real problems in the church. But I never really grew fond of them. The Vicar and his wife had problems, and those problems included the Vicar's wife being mentally ill, I think it was depression, but it disrupted their lives and service badly at one point, it made me realise, again, that even people with dog collars and in postions in the church are not infallible and not perfect, this was driven home to me even more when their teenage daughter started sleeping with one of my work colleagues, she didn't appear to be solidly in a relationship with him, just sleeping with him, and it made me wonder again, what the point of a Christian upbringing in the Church of England is actually worth? Very sad. But nonetheless, I am condemned worse than anyone who actually 'belongs' in the church due to dog collar or family, because I am autistic and I do not 'belong', at least not in the Diocese of Winchester, but at the time and until I was driven from Winchester two years ago, I had never known another Diocese, I have known other Diocese since, and I have seen things done so much better and much more inclusively in other diocese.
• at some point a new clergyman arrived at the church, he was a friend of my Vicar friend at Winchester, and was at college with her at evening class, doing an MA in Theology, which she eventually dropped out of. He was ok, but my Vicar friend talking about me to him and giving the wrong view of me was not helpful. But anyway, he preached sermons about hellfire and brimstone and how we would perish in our wicked ways, which was great fun, but when I told my vicar friend, she was not impressed. But anyway, this clergyman's wife, when I went to her when I was wrestling with life, told me she thought I had Asperger Syndrome and that was why I was struggling.

Autism, police

This story in the Mail (link below) made me feel very sad.
It reminded me so much of the needless and terrifying treatment I suffered at the hands of the police, especially on 14/02/2011 in Winchester, from which I don't think I will ever really recover.
Police Officers truly think they can do as they please, and they do treat the vulnerable and voiceless like dirt, that is my experience, and they also write what they like about incidents, because we have no voice.
I am so sorry for the young man who was treated like that, I know he must have been terrified and I share his terror of seeing police when I am out and about, because I still expect a repeat of what has happened to me, especially with the record the Diocese got me.
The police are not here to protect me or the community, they are very dangerous and damaging and for me now, there is no safety in this world.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2573941/Severely-autistic-man-33-hurled-bins-pinned-police-officers-helped-binmen-collect-rubbish-LOOKED-SUSPICIOUS.html

copied off the day-to-day blog for those who do not read it - behavioural therapy

This evening, thinking about the lack of progress in therapy and and how upset I have been recently, I downloaded some behavioural therapy manuals onto Kindle, I have always battled with, and been baffled with Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, maybe because of my cognitive problems, but I now have a book on Dialectal behaviour therapy, which I heard about at my psychology clinic, and I already understand that better than any CBT books.

My behaviour is wired wrongly from early on in my life, I did not have any example but my parents and siblings, no solid outside influence due to no school or nursery or any other organization, not even social services managed to intervene.
So, I learned anger, out of control anger, and fear, out of control fear, and the very real dangers in life magnified those emotions, I also didn't learn to relate to people properly and simply experienced a lot of aggressive and disruptive behaviours around me, in the family and the people they fought with, and then the autism element is also a factor.

I have never been proud of my problems, in fact I carry a burden of shame, but it has been a long slow progress for me to recognise what problem is what and seek treatment, it is hard work changing problems that stem from so early on, especially as the NHS have been worse than useless in any form of diagnosis or help, and I have to fight every inch and pay for my own treatment, diagnosis and books to help me, I have had to learn how to keep my environment stable and avoid triggers, and yet, I remain with unresolved problems.
Recent stresses have sent things out of control, and all I can ever do is look at what has happened and pick myself up and start anew and look for new solutions, so hopefully the behavioural therapy manuals will help.

Anything and everything, the headlines, Aspergers, a punch.

The Headlines in the Daily Mail are about the Autistic Spectrum man who was punched and died after he remonstrated with a cyclist who was on the pavement.

The commenter in the Mail says 'This may sound a bit cruel, but it is possible that he remonstrated with the cyclist because of the Asperger's'.

Yes, as you may have realised, us Aspies have a bad habit of speaking out, oh yes, it can shock people, because we can be too blunt. I have tried very hard to learn not to be so blunt, but I am no good at being Highly Polite. I do not know how to handle conflicts and differences of opinions, but that is just me. I am in therapy, when I can afford it, to learn these things.
That is no reason at all for anyone to punch someone.

I mean, I would never punch Jane Fisher, even if I have strongly felt like it in the past, and she has wrecked my life. I actually wouldn't do anything if I met her, but she lives in the middle of a river, a long way from here, so I probably never will see her. Hooray!
Just in my nightmares and flashbacks.

Another thing that of course that newspapers and many people do not realise, is, the bike suddenly going past this Asperger man at speed may have shocked his system, causing him to remonstrate.
I have had such experiences, cyclists on the pavement, too fast and too close, it is like a dog jumping up at me, too close, too intrusive, too dangerous, it shocks the system, and it is possible this is what happened, hence his remonstrating, I usually remonstrate too.
I do not know if such things affect neurotypicals but they sure do affect me.

Bikes on the pavement are a menace. I am very sad to hear about this man losing his life when he had every right to object, and my prayers are with his family.

Seeking help, diagnosis and assistance continued

Mid 20s.

Battling exhaustion, at least the doctors did blood tests, but did not find much and were vague, life was simply too much for me, so I was exhausted.

Assessment and diagnosis for autism spectrum was stressful but after a few weeks of shock, I started to feel valid, human, not just 'awkward', 'troublesome' and 'odd' as JM and others said.
But I was alone with the shock, still with inadequate help.
I used to drive to the leisure park and just sit there because I was too numb and confused to skate or see a movie.

The Diagnosis read Asperger Syndrome, Depression (already Diagnosed), and 'Social Phobia'.
At last, fairly clear diagnosis, although I believe that the social phobia is agoraphobia, sadly even this breakthrough was not without problems.

Firstly, it surprises me that the Maudsley did not pick up on Post Traumatic Stress or psychological trauma.
Secondly they did write some rubbish on that report. They wrote that I 'fantasized' about having a boyfriend, that is yuk, fantasized? RUBBISH!
The assessment was not long after I had broken up with G. and I was surprised when the nurse went on and on about didn't I wish I had a boyfriend? until I said 'yeah, I guess so'.
I was not in the slightest bit bothered by being single, just as I am not now. I have never approached anyone to ask them out and have been asked out a few times, resulting in 3 relationships in my adulthood, which are an extra responsibility for me and not something I look for. I do not and did not 'fantasize' and I think that is a disgusting, degrading and misleading statement.

Anyway, onwards from there, it was recommended I was put on an antidepressant which should not be given to people with blood pressure risks, and even by then (and untreated even now), my blood pressure was not right, and my close family have a blood pressure history, on both sides and in my siblings.
So I was put on this drug, presumably because one of the people who took me to the Maudsley was on this drug himself and suggested it.
It made me very ill before I withdrew from it on my own, as I did with all the others.

The Maudsley recommended that I had further assessment including brain scan and screening for mental illness, and they recommended behavioural therapy.

Well, I was thus referred to a psychiatrist, I thought all psychiatrists were old men in white coats, but this one was a polite young man.
As far as I know, and I am pretty sure, no further mental illness was found, no diagnosis made. I was at a bit of a loss when it came to talking to the psychiatrist, because it was the same as seeing a counsellor, I do not know how to interact. He was very nice anyway, I only saw him a few times, no behavioural therapy at all was available on the NHS there, so he referred me to some day courses in anxiety management and anger management, but again, I could not learn from them, firstly I had trouble getting in to the building where they were and getting a seat, which made me too anxious to learn anyway, and there was no helpful content, sadly. it was like that self-help course, it was not anything I could take in and use.

Anyway, the polite young psychiatrist, after a few sessions, told me he was leaving as he had a new job, so that was that, I was referred to two very ugly women, one was presumably a psychiatrist and the other her trainee, they were not only incredibly lacking in charm and sparkle, but they did not help me and even turned up on my doorstep one time without my permission, so I dismissed them.
Basically, psychiatry can do little for me, because my conditions are not really something they can do much with, psychological help is vastly more appropriate and I also feel much safer with psychology than psychiatry, my head needs soothing and untangling, not messing with.

Anyway, with regards behavioural therapy, the lengths I went to to get that therapy was incredible.
It was not available on the NHS in Hampshire, so I contacted the NAS and wailed miserably at them about how I had been DIAGNOSED and Needed HELP!
They sent me a list of behavioural therapists who could help people on the Autistic Spectrum, and it turned out that none of these were in Hampshire, the nearest was in Sussex, and I considered it, spoke to the therapist in Sussex and one in Dorset, but the combined costs of travel and fees were simply too much.
Stumped.

I wrote to the Hampshire Chronicle, asking if they could appeal for help for me, I got no response and felt shamed.

I continued to seek help, and looked through lists of counsellors, found one near Winchester who worked with trauma and abuse, and she worked with me, for reduced fee, for two years, and helped me tremendously with communication and relationships and overcoming some of my overwhelming past. She even had a book of metaphors for people on the autistic spectrum to learn.
But behavioural therapy, which I also still needed, remained out of reach.

MIND outings and socials- Happier memories, early 20s

I self-referred to MIND in my early 20s to ensure I wasn't too isolated and to encourage myself to socialize.

Because, just as I have done now, I developed a liking for being alone in my home, alone, no company, just drifting, and I know, however much I like drifting, I need to keep trying to spend time with others.

The Social groups were overwhelming for me at first, too much for me, so I would hide in a side room, and a support worker would either keep me company or coax me out to join the group, she was  a very nice support worker, who remained supportive and friendly until she left to move away.

It took me a while to feel safe in that group, and at first I just stayed in the corner and trekked to the urn for more tea every few minutes :)

The breakthrough was when the male support worker, another safe, helpful person, took to sitting with me and drawing cartoons and playing noughts and crosses. This progressively grew until a whole group of us were playing noughts and crosses, drawing cartoons and making each other laugh by captioning each other's cartoons :) 

We progressed to me being able to play pool or 'killer' with them as well, which was great! :) These skills, simple as they were, did help me.

I joined some music sessions and various MIND things but was busy with work and other things and didn't keep anything apart from social group and outings up.

I made a friend or two at social, but everyone had problems and some of them never got my name right, nor did I learn everyone's name, but it was good to be in a social setting where I wasn't the lone vulnerable person in a church of england church.

I made a friend with an excitable young woman who was so like my old friend at college, so similar, and as at college, we made each other hyper and silly.

Outings were fun, we had a number of outings to the coast, enjoying strolling, sightseeing, going out on motor boat trips, and the usual seaside things.

We had a look round a historic village one time, and we often went to a market in the next county, it all added variety to a basic hand-to-mouth lifestyle.

Some of the trips I found harder were the ones that included the pub, the driver, who was not really part of MIND, jeered because I didn't want to go in the pub for a drink with the others, but back then, I had only been in a pub a few times in my life, when I was 18 and 19 for Birthday meals with the people I lodged with, and for two of my brothers' wedding receptions, and those were meals, not drinking times, I did not want to go into a pub and drink, but during a MIND trip, we simply stopped at a pub, and I was unprepared and bewildered.

The other time I found difficult, which was otherwise a good trip, was when we went out on a boat, it was a boat that did trips for disabled people, and we went out, but I was with the nice female support worker, and one of the staff was flirting with her and chatting to her, leaning over us and leaning in, and even then, and even now, I cannot cope with being leaned over or stood over if I am sitting, because I feel too vulnerable, especially if it is a man.

So I was getting anxious, and I tried to get away, and the man scornfully said to the support worker 'I suppose you are used to this', as if I was an animal, no feelings, no ears, such a wrong attitude, and he was causing the problem.

Sometimes living with the conditions I have is like that, extra hurts from being misunderstood on top of the daily struggles to live independently.

Anyway, never mind the less happy bits, we had fun, we had great fun, and I am grateful for it, I am grateful to anything that breaks up this difficult life and gives it some colour.

We went to a football match once, now that was fun, although we had to stand up all the time.

We had a great time, and on the way to the match, we had to stop for fuel for the minibus, and there in the petrol station was someone dressed as Elvis, that caused us much amusement! :)

One time I attempted to play squash with another MIND client, but I couldn't afford to keep that up, and I was too shy really.

MIND did a great thing in helping me to communicate and interact and socialize, but they didn't help me towards further diagnosis or treatment, aside from the social side of things, they didn't really notice me, and despite me speaking to them, they kept wrongly addressing my newsletters and paperwork, so in the end when they restructured without me knowing, that was probably because they sent the information to the wrong address or simply forgot me.

So I was not told that this valuable resource had been lost, and I was left with nothing to replace it.

Autism Jersey Part 1

Philip LeClaire worked for Autism Jersey, and several people had recommended his help by the time I made contact with him.

I actually met him before I made contact with him, funnily enough I met him at St. Andrews Church, where I was with (the churchwarden and his wife).
Philip and his wife and son ***, who has Asperger Syndrome, came to St. Andrews to pick up some clothes and odds and ends that the church had to dispose of from a fete.
Autism Jersey had just started a charity shop and needed the clothes and odds and ends for stock.

The Churchwarden was hugging me as we sorted out the things for autism Jersey, and a lady came downstairs from church and saw him but said nothing and did nothing and the Churchwarden pulled away from me.

When I made contact with Philip as a potential client of Autism Jersey, he was kind and friendly.
Which he was for a lot of the time I knew him but he was overstetched with work and the extra
stress must have been hard for him.
Credit to him for the lengths he went to to help me and to help others with Autism!

I did not meet Philip for a while after making contact with him, I didn't meet him until things started going downhill, and I was so used to my privacy being violated that I begged him not to contact the Churchwarden couple about me, and was impressed when he said that he would not dream of making contact about me without my permission.

I was not sure how Philip could help me, I had been having counselling when I first contacted him but was not benefitting greatly, could not bond with the counsellor and couldn't afford to keep the counselling going. I was not sure how Philip could help me. And while having counselling and while the churchwarden couple were involved with me, I did not want too much extra support as I get overwhelmed by being too supported and I have meltdowns, which means I collapse and get angry and things.
(now thought to be caused by reactive attachment disorder that went untreated when I was young).

I met Philip at some point, and he was nice, but I realised he was virtually running Autism Jersey on his own.
He was the only full-time member of staff and the only paid member of staff as far as I know, although ******** may have been paid.

Philip ran the office, courses for schools, businesses and organizations, helpline, office, and oversaw everything, deeply and passionately commited to making life better for people with autism and people around them.

Autism Jersey had a team of volunteers, these ran the shop and did fundraising and other work. I helped in the shop sometimes and also helped on checkpoints for the sponsored walk that raised money for Autism Jersey, I also counted the money that came in through collection boxes, mainly small change.

The person who was most involved apart from Philip was ******* ******, who had an office next to Philip's office. I remember her saying something about putting her head through the door to speak to me, and as I sometimes do with things like that, I looked startled and Philip and ******* laughed because it didn't mean literally putting her head through the door. But we always remembered that and laughed about it.
(despite being quite adept at figures of speech and metaphors once I know them, I can still be caught out by them and see literal pictures when they are used)

******* ran a befriending scheme which she put me on, but it takes a long time to match clients to befrienders, so it was months before we found me a befriender. The aim was to encourage me to socialise and be less isolated.

Philip wasn't aware of the full extent of the churchwarden situation until some time after I met him, he knew there were problems though.

It wasn't until I didn't turn up for an appointment at the supported employment centre that they realised I was in real difficulties and contacted Philip as they said it was unlike me to not turn up.

I was struggling and I was on an anti-depressant/sedative combination which was preventing me from waking up or staying awake and that is why I missed the appointment.

Philip made contact and I met with him, I told him everything and he wanted me to see a social worker with him and he mentioned the police.

Philip really stepped in to support me then, and especially as Bob Key messed up the complaint and left me struggling more and I phoned Philip's supportline one evening as I was so upset.

Philip was very supportive but the damage done to me by the churchwarden couple was really bad, I had been regressed so I was '****'s 'little girl' and I had been hurt and belittled and was now alone with no 'God-sent family' and then Bob Key was confronting me and obstructing my complaint.
but Philip got my agreement to get someone from social services in, he assured me that Social Services in Jersey were good, not like Social Services in England.

So we met with ******, the social worker and she heard everything, was nice, and talked to me about getting the police involved.

Eventually, I agreed with Philip and ****** to go to the police, they told me I had to make the decision but they did not want **** to do the same again to anyone else.

The police met us for an initial interview and told us that due to the caseload from Haute de la Garenne, they would have to delay interviewing me.

In the meantime I went to England as I saw the churchwarden couple wherever I went and it was upsetting me, and **** laughed when he saw me, as if my complaint was a joke. I have a feeling that he thought his connections and friendship with the right people would get him let off entirely, as well as his story of how the regression and abuse were his method of healing me.

I had a nightmare time lost in Hampshire, not able to really be part of my old community or settle, not enough money to live on and no-one to turn to, with JM, due to her involvement in Jersey with the Dean and the churchwarden couple, and her discussion of it with her family - as usual not respecting professional boundaries, giving me a hard time.

Before I had left England, I had contacted the leader of an evangelizing walk that the churchwarden couple were due to go on, the reason for this was that he had told me stories of inappropriate conversation he had had on previous such walks, with young females. The evangelist who led the walk was also the one who had been in Jersey for the 'Mission', the awful brainwashing stunt that that type do.
(I am scarred by their awful games).

I had two trips back to Jersey during my time in Hampshire, to do police statements, I do not remember much, I must have met DC **** and I was also interviewed in a house with a video so my evidence was videoed.

I will never forget the way ****** tried so hard not to laugh, and so did the policewoman, when I described sex when I was asked to.
I think they had to wait until later to go and howl with laughter because even I knew it was funny.

After six weeks, still deeply damaged and depressed, I returned to Jersey to new lodgings as I had had to give up my old tenancy. I remained deeply depressed and the churchwarden couple were on the radio about how they were running the church fete and their number was given out to anyone who had things to donate. I was angry that neither Bob Key nor the Diocese had done anything about ****, but they still haven't.

My new home was with an old army associate of Philip's. (Perfectly safe, and it was coincidental and not due to Philip that I found that home).

I went to work in a factory up until christmas as there was no outdoor work available. (It was soul destroying and I remembered how the churchwarden family would 'never do work like this, as I had been told several times).

A wait of a month or two went by before the police released the results of the investigation into the churchwarden, and I remember how distressed and anxious I was, as I continued to see the churchwarden couple leading church groups. Philip continued to work hard to help me through these times. (poor man, I think it was unfair that he had all the strain as well as being overloaded at work).

I do not know why the Korris report states that Hampshire police investigated as well as Jersey police?

Jersey Police sent the results by email, nothing could be more shocking and distressing!
They said they had let **** go due to not enough evidence.

I was very upset indeed, to be alone with this email. (which triggered a terrible situation)
Not only had they let him go but had let him go to go round saying he was cleared. He was already getting me shunned by claiming to the tight evangelical clique that he was innocent and I was something bad, and he was already using JM and the Lihous and Warrens and Keys in this. The fact he had been able to isolate me in church and give his side of the relationship all along made it all the easier for him be believed and me to be villified.

Jersey police should have met with me and someone responsible and told me things properly.

because they didn't, they left me in a state where I was in a bad way and they used that to enforce the Jersey way, and punish me for reporting abuse, the violence and insults and police detention I received that day was more punishment that churchwarden has ever received and it is on my records, along with all the other brutalizations and detentions, to punish me until my dying day, and that is why I wish I was dead. (the message is, being an abuser is fine, being a victim and speaking up is not!).

The ensuing situation also broke my trust for Philip, but the Korris report omits it and Korris does not appear to know what happened.
And Philip's memory proved dodgy while I was in Jersey and he recounted situations back to me incorrectly at times, so if she interviewed him, he may have also misrepresented things by accident.

I will always be grateful to Philip for the lengths he went to to help me and sorry that it didn't work out. He hurt me inadvertantly, and I hurt him, but my situation was spiralling rapidly out of control from reporting the churchwarden onwards, the damage by the churchwarden and the church response was so severe, I could feel it in everything, and with no access to psychological support, there was little hope of recovery as I continued to be hurt in that small island community for reporting the churchwarden.

Philip is one of the people who showed me by example why there is such good in Catholic morals and ways, he is one of the first Catholics I had ever spoken to at any length, as far as I know.
I am sorry Philip, that it became such a mess.

The damage in my life remains and even now, paying for my own therapy, I am still in a bad way and still have to cancel therapy due to poverty, and I still get angry and hurt myself and others with my words.
Is there a better future ahead? I can only persevere.
Philip's help is lasting, because he was such a rock during bad times, and because he introduced me to the Catholic church and that is how I met some of the best friends I have, who have stayed with me through the bad times and through Diocese of Winchester attempts to separate me and them.

And it was the words of those Catholics that saved my life, they told me that 'My perceived wrongs were between me and God, and the Church of England had no right to judge me'.
The Church of England's condemnation would have killed me in 2011 if the Catholics had not shown me a new view of things, because I could not live under the shame and condemnation, sadly even the knowledge now that God forgives me does not change the fact that the Diocese may kill me yet with their harmful interventions.

Thanks Philip.

Inspired by the WRAP post, lets look at some of my efforts to get help, recover, understand myself and be understood, part 1.

• My first ever attempts to understand myself and improve life where when I was a teenager, my Dad wouldn't accept my leaning difficulties and had frequently physically punished me but that had not improved anything, so I bought my own text books from the money I earned doing a newspaper round, and I taught myself. I found that I could teach myself and that learning became fun, no longer an ordeal of being afraid of punishment.
• I was also a teenager when I first found out about bullying, really found out, from a book, and pretty much stopped my sister's daily torment of me. She was a year older than me and had spent my whole life belittling me and making me feel stupid and small. You wonder why I am so irritable? I think that played a small part in it, I feel small and stupid still, but she pretty much stopped when I learned from the bullying book and told her off.
• The first year I spent at college was when I did my GCSE's, and back then I was so afraid of 'The Social Services' and other similar services that I freaked out whenever learning support approached me, because I was afraid that they were the same thing, so I missed out on valuable help there.
• The Second college year was when I left home to go to the Agricultural College, this is when I started to develop independence, although my family still had great influence on me, with my Mum phoning me about 'Jihads that might kill us' etc, and leaving me terrified. In agricultural college I referred myself for counselling, which was entirely against my parents' beliefs and wishes and my Mum was very vocal on the topic, saying it is better to speak to a friend than 'one of them', in that case though, she was almost right, as the counsellor was merely a tutor who earned extra money for the label 'counsellor' and if anything, his involvement made things more complex and certainly did not bring any insight into 'what was wrong', as I had been increasingly aware through my teenage years that 'something was wrong'. I do not know if I directly connected my problems to what had happened in the past then, I think I kind of knew, but didn't realise the depth of it.
• Self-help. Because counselling was not working effectively, I started self-help, through books and tapes. I became addicted to it, and thankfully, being young and autistic, I managed to memorise some social skills from the books and tapes, which did help me, advice like, 'don't go round looking miserable, smile', I learned to smile instead of my face being stuck in an unhappy mask, it did help.
• I also continued to seek help but didn't know either what was wrong or what help I needed. I was not put on regular learning support because I passed the basic skills tests and so they thought I was ok. When counselling at the college didn't work, I sought counselling elsewhere, I went to the Youth Centre in Winchester but they were very vague and their counsellors who were trainee counsellors, did not know what to make of my silence and so could not offer anything. So again I was left with no help and nowhere to turn.
• The college student officer didn't understand me and treated me with scorn, and the feeling was mutual because I really didn't like her or her ethics. She referred me to the college doctor, the first doctor I had actually seen, apart from a police doctor when I was 12 and a doctor friend of my mum's when I was about 11. My parents had taught me that Doctors were bad news, so that didn't help, but when he asked if I was hearing voices because of my hypersensitivity to noise outside and because of the bad view that the student support officer had of me being 'odd' and not fitting in, I was furious, and again, there was no help available. Horrifying prejudiced perceptions, but as I was not hearing voices, the end result was me upset, angry, believing that my parents could be right about doctors, and with no help.
• When JM burst onto the scene and tried to take over the college, she also liased with the student welfare officer and as a result I nearly abandoned my request to see JM, I did end up seeing her though, and she swiftly crossed boundaries, took me home, and stopped being my counsellor and told me she was like a surrogate mum for me. Fine, but then I was without counselling again.
• When I left college, I was on anti-depressants and seeing the doctor every fortnight, the same doctor who had let me and a friend of mine down. I did not have faith in him, didn't like him, didn't know I had a choice and could change doctors, seeing him was not benefitting me, and the anti-depressants were leaving me in the confused and vulnerable haze that allowed FM to abuse me. Basically anti-depressants made me ill from the start and didn't help, but you trust doctors and medicines, I guess, you think they cannot be wrong, even me, with my background, I did as I was told and took these anti-depressants and was ill all the time, as well as having FM's advances and a crisis situation whereby I had left college and had no idea of the future.
• JM claimed that anger management could only be accessed in Hampshire if you were in the prison. She was mistaken, and I started paying most of my benefits to see an anger management psychologist, but sadly I couldn't afford to keep that up. Later, recently  it turned out he was available on the NHS, but I am sure he wasn't at the time.
• I joined a creative writing class to see if that would help me work some things out, but it was run by one of the tutors from the agricultural college, and so I was always ashamed to share my work, in view of the fact that back then, the college simply had not understood me. I quit the class for the same reason.
• I started studying psychology as a correspondence course and learned about autism from that and was increasingly sure I was on the spectrum, but at the time I had no idea how to get diagnosis, the doctor was basically not interested in me and my problems, and my appointments with him were a drag, so I never dared to ask him, he did only a few helpful things when i saw him, and these were not to do with mental health, he diagnosed me with hayfever and he gave me antibiotics for my tonsils, which regularly flare up and cause me problems to this day, I have got bored with taking my tonsils to the doctor, I just wash them with TCP instead.
  JM claimed that autism was 'just a label' that would prevent me from taking responsibility for my behaviour', the fact that she had so much influence in my life meant she won about that and she continued to make me out to be 'difficult' to people in the parish, sharing my college problems and basically blatantly breaching every confidence possible, for which the diocese did not have her publicly flogged when they flogged me for 'causing her problems' in 2011.
• So, undiagnosed and with no form of therapeutic help, I was in 'sheltered housing', which was another form of help that wasn't. I had agreed to the referral and JM had done it, because she said her friend ran the sheltered house, as it was, her friend had gone on permenant sick leave, leaving an agency support worker who came in on weekdays, in charge of the house. The agency support worker liked to party, got PMT, took it out on us, I was there for a matter of months and not receiving any benefit or support from being in such an environment, rather deteriorating as I watched or got caught up in, the other residents rows and problems, I did, however see the similarities between myself and two autistic residents there. But after a few months in the house, and a few months in the transition flat, I moved independently into independent lodgings, where I remained for years.
• So, newly independent, I worked in supported employment and continued to seek help and to try and develop myself.
• In the town I moved to, I registered with an awful surgery, but there wasn't much choice there. The doctors were always both late and impatient. I was left with an injury from work that I was told to go back t owork with, doing lasting damage, and was eventually, too late, referred for NHS physio, which didn't repair it, although the physio noticed I was lopsided, she and others never thought to check if I had leg length syndrome, which would have saved a lot of pain a long time ago if they had. Anyway, NHS physio didn't work and I was left injured until I paid to go to a private clinic, where the injury was mended by re-aligning the out of place components.
• I did short courses at work on 'confidence building', 'communication skills' and 'teamwork', but did not find them very beneficial, as my communication did not improve, and 'communication skills' was geared up to making presentations rather than interpersonal skills, and I was scared of the rest of the group because I did not know them and still didn't know how to be with people.
• Basically not a lot of help was available in those few years, I continued to work very hard on my self-help instead. and as well as that, I broke away from my parents influence, with my Dad shouting at me that 'The Church of England were brainwashing me!', having found out about my association with them, well he was mistaken about that, but the Church of England have done their share of harm and I can now understand why my parents disliked the Church of England, although their views were quite extreme.
• One of JM's church members, very feminist and 'frothy' (JM's way of describing airy-fairy), decided she was my 'counsellor' untrained and with no supervision or qualification or permission from the church, where she held various positions. She would make me sit there, and I was supposed to talk, but as ever, I had no idea how to do this (funnily enough, I still can't talk to my therapist unless she asks me questions, I am very reactive and not very proactive when it comes to speaking and making contact verbally). Anyway, this frothy woman, who is still around in Winchester, would get me to sit there in her office as if she was counselling me, no contract or explanation, she just actively made a habit of it, rather than me seeing her and her husband for a cuppa, she would get me to go and sit in her office and talk. It was always embarrassing.

It was also unethical as she wasn't trained for what she was trying to do and her prejudices were so extreme and so awful. JM, breaching counselling confidences herself, had given her opinion of me to this woman and she repeated them back, in what became a feature of the way the church of england treated me from start to now, prejudice, rumours and condemnation, I was not allowed to develop and grow from who I was when I struggled at college, just as the Diocese and Deanery's attack on me has not let me grow from the terrible state I was in in Jersey.

Anyway, this woman would make me sit there, and she would tell me I shouldn't be doing the kind of work I did because I was female, shocking prejudices that don't belong in counselling, she was so 'us girls and them men!' when I don't think like that at all, I am not feminist or in favour of segregation, I just think people should live.

Anyway, I told this woman about FM abusing me, but nothing was done, I told her in 2001 or 2002, but last time I saw her, she and her husband (now deceased) were with FM, laughing at me as I was homeless and shamed on the streets of Winchester in 2010.

I will stop for now as I am so disgusted. The Diocese have never dealt with any of this or taken my side and my account of things at all, they would whip me when these neurotypical people in authority in their churches have behaved as they have! 

'A friend like Henry'/autism and life

I have just finished reading 'A friend like Henry', it is a big book so it took me from Sunday to this morning to read.
The book is also a film called 'After Thomas' which is often showed on Television, and the film and the book are very similar as they are from a true story.

What the book shows is that parents' love and care can make a profound difference to a child with autism.

My parents, especially when I was younger, did not believe in learning difficulties or disabilities, and corrected everything with punishment, usually physical. Thus I not only had autism but was punished for it regularly, and the Church of England pretty much followed in the same vein.
So I have grown up ashamed to be me, I have been 100 times more ashamed to be me since Jane Fisher's whipping and defamation of me in Jersey and Winchester, she reinforced JM's message that I was as bad or worse than an abuser for my disability intolerably and concretely.

I am glad for Dale and Amy, the children in the book 'A friend like Henry' that their parents, under the terrible stress of denial from authorities and having to cope daily with their children's problems, persevered and did wonderfully well for their children and in turn their children thrived.
Credit to them! :)

Since my bad experience of Autism Jersey, of which my side remains untold. I do not see any point in autism societies, I cannot bond with them or engage with them and they lean towards unhelpful actions which add to my stress, for example the NAS threatening to set social services on me, when I am council house trash, abusing children or need a leech hanging onto me, I will agree to social services making my life worse, until then, I am already overloaded and do not need an extra burden.

I have to live my life as best I can now, and I do it by keeping routine and keeping known stresses to a minimum.
Dale, despite his incredible and admirable progress, that he and his parents and Henry deserve a lot of credit for, did not stop being autistic. And despite my increased social and communication skills, neither have I.

When I was younger, living in Hampshire, until I was diagnosed and even after that, I did not know what caused me stress or how to control the stress, I did not know how to act in social situations, but since most of my socialising was in the wealthy middle class Church of England setting, I fell into the role of coat-taker and waitress at the parties that my friends held, although I still suffered exhaustion from the parties, having a role and being focussed on it gave me the ability to interact with people.
I guess some of those parties would make a happy memory later?

In my life now, as you may have seen from the Day to Day blog, although trying to run a low-stimulation life does not completely dominate my life, it does help.
Socialisation and human contact are stresses for me, hence Sunday, Monday and Tuesday being my social days, and me being a bit put out by having to interact yesterday.
Being in my own little world is the most calming and healing thing there is, especially after the battering my life has taken in the last few years.
But equally, being alone with the continuing harm from the Church of England is not good for me, so I do need my social days.

I try to keep my environment at the right temperature as I can get very sick if I get hot, my Dad, also on the spectrum, used to get very sick if he got cold. This is why I comment sadly on losing the winter.

I do not like some noises, sharp or loud or sudden noises and I am very noise sensetive, and I have learned even in the last month to cope with wearing earplugs at night to help me to settle and sleep. I have great difficulty sleeping indoors but I know it is safe to wear earplugs in here even if I don't like to, and though they tend to help me sleep, they tend to have fallen out during the night as I am so busy in my sleep.
You see some autistic children with ear muffs to help them cope with noise.

So, in the old days, when I had no understanding of what was wrong with me, I did not know that I reacted too strongly, did not know what I reacted to, and did not know how to help myself, but these days, I am much more aware of what is wrong and why, so often I change a situation or leave it in order to avert a meltdown.
But it remains that I have been misunderstood by the world and especially by the Church of England, for my actions all my adult life, even though I am quite high functioning and these days careful not to overreact if I can help it.

Eye contact, a classical sign of autism is lack of eye contact, or in Asperger Syndrome sometimes you can end up with too much eye contact, staring, looking through people.
I never made eye contact when I was younger, I used to stare at a mirror for hours and still not see myself.
It was JM who taught me eye contact, she used to put her hand under my chin and get me to look at her, all the time, which would be completely unethical and crossing all counselling/clerical boundaries, but she did a lot more than that that crossed boundaries and it wasn't a bad thing that she encouraged eye contact, although it was uncomfortable for me.
She achieved getting me to look at people, although it remains hit and miss, but this is when I discovered faces, and started drawing my little cartoons, I had had no idea about people having eyes and faces before, I was fascinated!

My speech started improving with the help of a very good therapist who who worked with abuse and trauma, and made another leap forward in improving while I was suffering trauma in Jersey, for unknown reasons.

Autism still isn't as understood as it needs to be, although most people know something about autism these days, but if I say I am on the autism spectrum, that can baffle people, and if I do as some people on the spectrum do, and 'hide' my autism, I seem to be much more open to being misunderstood and causing upset..
An example of this was the chef at work, always cheerful and loud, shouting hello to me and gettking offended because he thought I wouldn't reply, although I was struggling to process his words and reply because of slight dyspasia linked to the Autism spectrum.
When I explained this to him, he stopped being cross and was kind.

People ask how I could live with being autistic and homeless, and that is understandable. It was easy, I felt safer from the Diocese and police out there, I could sleep comfortably on the ground and my spine was held in place by the firm ground, while sleeping in a bed remains uncomfortable, I was much more in control of temperature outdoors, I would wrap up in my blanket pile and breathe the clean air and sleep sweetly, and I long for that now as I battle to sleep every night indoors.
I was well looked after by other homeless, outreach and churches on the streets, and I could spend as much time as I liked alone and drifting in my little world out there.
I had my routines, that were easy to re-establish when I moved from one town to another.
Ah, I wish i could have one night of sleep like that on the streets! Oh the cold and the dark and the quiet, I want it back!

Anyway, to conclude, the Church pretty much has always denied my condition or made it equal to or worse than, peadophilia. Starting with JM's statement that I would be judged the same as our peadophile youth leader by God.
God would judge me the same as an abuser? This is how JM put it to me, and refused to refute that.
And in everything Jane Fisher and the Bishops have done to destroy and defame me while protecting my abusers, they also state that.

I do not believe a condition like autism that someone is born with, is the same as a man knowingly targetting children and vulnerable people and using them for sexual activity.

I do not want to be how I am, and sometimes I see faint glimpses or have dreams, of a life where I am not like this, I wake from those dreams feeling devastated, because no matter what I do, I cannot change this and be how other people can be, living a life where you don't have to avoid stimulation and worry about meltdown and prepare in advance for each journey and each change in life.

I do not know if Dale went on to be able to live without advance preparation for each new thing, or if he still had times when he could not cope or was not understood, he actually, with the wonderful support he had, seemed to go on to a much more successful life than me. I think he and his parents deserve medals, and I hope they do not mind me writing about them to facilitate my telling of how autism affects me.

In Jersey, being regressed by the Churchwarden and his 'healing' when he had no training and was supposed to be under observation from his church, was profoundly damaging, I remained regressed and wounded by their awful church, not knowing that he was supposed to be being supervised because of previous behaviour, but he was not only not being supervised, he was being allowed to separate me from the rest of the church and discuss my 'problems' in a way that left me isolated and shunned, he was being allowed to discuss 'my problems' with the vicar and his wife, in an intrusive way, and I reacted.

And when I left the churchwarden and his wife, he still felt me up when I went to see him because I was concerned about what he had done and his lack of responsibility, I still had not been made aware of his past.
I was left emotionally and psychologically damaged and without adequate support when I reported the churchwarden, I was shunned in the community, no matter how Jane Fisher denies it, and the stress was simply too much, would have been too much for anyone from a background like mine and having found her 'family' only to be abused and dumped.
As someone on the autism spectrum, the denials and shunning were simply too much, and it caused an uber-meltdown.

Which continues to cause me to be treated as worse than an abuser by the Church of England, or even as worse than their clergy who have behaved unethically and without a shred of Christianity in order to cover up the wrongdoing around me reporting the case.
Glaringly, the church have interviewed those clergy with their legal expertise and their lawyers and omitted my side from any report.
Again and again they state like that, that autism is a crime and wrongdoing by clergy and church officers is not and is excusable.
And apparently, according to Bob Hill, Dame Steel claims there is nothing wrong with me and I am just a troublemaker.
She didn't interview me but interviewed someone with an interest in protecting the wrongdoers who has never even met me but is a trained lawyer as well as being a clergyman in the Deanery of Jersey.