Caroline Venables

04/02/2017

Formal Letter to Caroline Venables.

Dear Caroline Venables,

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

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

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

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

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

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

HG/JJ

HOMELESS IN WINCHESTER 2010 CONTINUED

• https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nSAoEf1Ib58

• Back to the story, Winchester October 2010.
• I was in a mess, wearing these ragged clothes and shoes that were worn through, walking all the time in these soft unsupportive shoes which were causing my ankle to struggle, the shoes were so worn that I could feel the ground, the holes in the soles let in water and sharp things, so I got a pair of trainers and some jeans, I was extremely worried about money and spending as I only had what wages I had in the bank from my last wage packet, and I knew that I could never get through the rigmarole of applying for benefits especially as I had just come back from Jersey and felt sure I would be entitled to little or nothing. I didn’t think I could explain to anyone why I had ended up homeless and I felt sure that anyone I tried to explain to would soon have the diocese along contradicting it.

• The shoes I had when I arrived in Winchester were the same soft house shoes with holes in the soles that I was taken from my home in Jersey wearing, they were only suitable for indoors. Bob Hill mistakenly describes them as tatty trainers.

• So I had new trainers and trousers, but I was walking so much that I was getting into difficulties, I was walking stiffly, completely tensed up all the time, my legs and arms were stiff, and my ankle was awkward, I didn’t fully know what my problem with walking was even though the doctor in Jersey had mentioned it, the doctor at the Trinity centre checked me over and made sure my reflexes were ok and said she thought it was to do with anxiety among other things. She said regarding the trauma of what had happened in Jersey, that I would start to recover in 3 or 4 years. She was a nice helpful doctor.
• I wondered about my back aches and stiff legs and if the egg sized lump on my back by my spine was anything to do with things, but she said it seemed to just be a lipoma, which was a relief, I felt so ill that I wondered what was wrong with me. But I was ill because I was so badly damaged mentally and emotionally by what had happened and my situation.
• The trainers were useless and my feet got blistered and infected, it was strange because I had never got blisters before in my life, not even when wearing army boots and running, not from running, not from wearing work boots, but now I was getting blisters and infections that made me walk all the more badly, I walk in a way that puts pressure on the outsides of my feet, it is not correctable even with special insoles I have to balance me, they do very little because of how pronounced the incorrect alignment of my feet is, so  it was a struggle to get anywhere.

•  The nurse at the Trinity Centre gave me antibiotic cream and padding and bandages to help me cope, but it was early days then, I had not learned to cope with homeless feet and in the early stages of being homeless and very traumatised, I didn’t know what to do or where to go, how to settle down to do anything, being street homeless is something you have to learn, you don’t come from a home to knowing exactly how survive on the streets, and so you suffer,  you feel cold and lost and traumatised and tired, you crave a warm quiet bed and a home and a kettle and a purpose in life, you lose your purpose when you come from the safety of a home and a job to the endless nothing and pointlessness of homelessness. 
• (written in 2011, obviously)Though now after 6 months I am so well looked after that no-one knows I am homeless until they see me diving in the rubbish bins with the boys for food, yes I do indeed do this and I am not ashamed.

• my friends came back from Jersey and I suffered fresh trauma as my friend tried to make me talk, tried to tell me about how she had talked to Mark Bond and Judith Davey in Jersey, talked about talking to Shirley and Andreamy landlady in Jersey, I told her not discuss me with Shirley or Mark or Judith any further please , I was humiliated,  She said something about what had been covered up in Jersey being wrong, but it was no good saying anything to me it just caused me huge distress, I ended up in collapse at St. Bartholomews church with the fluffy headed curate there making a token effort to ‘help’, but Jane Fisher soon set her right with the diocese’s side of things there. There was never any point in me talking to a priest since I returned to Winchester, even though what I needed most was a priest to help me to come to terms with what the church have done to me and help me find God among the terrible things that have happened and find a way forward with God, but sadly the diocese have ensured that that will never happen.

Well since writing this in 2011, I have found God because I realised the Church of England are nothing to do with God, and God is in other churches and places.

• In the nightshelter I had nightmares and was scared, one morning in the early hours I was suffering distress from massive nightmares about the police manhandling me and throwing me into court, I got up and the nasty piece of work supervisor, the only nasty one out of four, because the others were ok, was awake and working, he approached me with hostile attitude and went on at me for being up in the night, it was between 4 and 5am, I wouldn’t go back to my room so he let me sit in the lounge while he went back to his work, I had some hot tea and watched the pouring, pounding rain outside, then the supervisor came back and told me to go back to my room, he could see I was distressed and crying and he was so cold, I went to my room and got my backpack,( I had got a cheap backpack since I had returned to Winchester) and I went out of the nightshelter, it was very early morning and pouring with rain, this is the ‘considerable help’ that Tim Sledge jeered at me when he was smashing me down for Jane Fisher and the diocese when he told me I had simply walked out of the ‘considerable help’ provided by the Nightshelter? Maybe Tim should have asked for my side before trying to shove me back into the nightshelter for the diocese!

• The nightshelter reminded me of prison and I was frightened of the narrow corridor that people were always walking along and passing each other too close, it was too much for me, the shower didn’t work in the girls bathroom and the little room I had did remind me of a cell, especially when I had to lock myself in and endure the noise outside just as I was locked in and endured the noise outside in prison. So it kept the prison and the shame alive for me.
• The girls shower didn’t work, and every time I went in the bathroom there were people in the corridor or computer room making a noise and laughing and I felt exposed and anxious.
• My hair was a mess and I had a cheap haircut that made it more of a mess, it looked terrible, and I couldn’t wash it very well in the bath, so I had the shoulder length messy hair completely shaved off, I do not know if there was something psychological in that as well as physical, but most people were not happy that I had done this, and the rumour mongers who I will explain in a minute, had a field day. I was happy about no having dirty messy hair any more.

• Anyway, back in the nightshelter it was tough, there were good and bad people there, the good people – (names redacted) and any others I cannot remember, helped and supported me, (names redacted) were as unsure of me as I was of them for a few days and then we got talking and got on well, all homeless people are traumatized in one way or another, homelessness is nothing ok or good, (name redacted) is a nice man who had had a breakdown of some kind and knew how nervous I was and made an effort to support me, he is a very tactile man, he expresses his friendliness and concern through touch, sometimes sudden and anuexpected, but he means well so I never reacted too sharply, the others warned him to be careful with touching me, (name redacted) was an angry person with a lot of concerns, but he also helped me by being friendly and inclusive, and talking to me about things and encouraging me to join in with things, including joining him for the first part of a walk he was doing to Southampton.

• Other people came and went from the Shelter, but it ended up that there was a group of people there who were mainly offenders, it horrifies me that I am ‘the same as them’, these people were not ashamed as I am, some of them had tags and ASBOs, they liked smoking and alcohol, and were miffed about the nightshelter rules against these things, they shouted and quarrelled and made life difficult for us less able and quieter members of the shelter, *** said she was terrified to come out of her room sometimes, I had a little single room, so did she.
•  the group of noisy people would gather in the room opposite mine with the door open, and they would be shouting away, there would be five or more in that room all evening and they would be shouting away, the place echoed and that made it worse, I was suffering so much distress from what had happened and the diocese that I could not cope with all this distress and the noise that went on until 11pm in the evening, 11pm in the evening was very late indeed for me and I was exhausted every day from being homeless and trying to cope with what had happened and hold myself together.

•  I made several complaints to the management, and the manager wasn’t interested, one of the supervisors showed an interest and tried to help, one of the other supervisors who is a nasty piece of work went in there and joined in with the noise, but the good supervisor, Phil, who had been the one rambling about the politics of city church, managed to temporarily make the situation a bit better after I walked out and slept rough for a night, I went back and things were better while Phil remained on duty, and he told me that *** had also made complaints about things happening there, there were also other complaints from rows about who had the telly remote and other things unrelated to this, but the manager wasn’t bothered, I went to her with the complaint, unaware then that the diocese had been able to intervene – and can you imagine the diocese not intervening, considering the story I took to the nightshelter of what the church had done to me to leave me homeless and on the nightshelter’s doorstep?!
•  But anyway, the manager was unhelpful and sharp and told me that the noise was acceptable, I asked if she had heard it and she said no but it was acceptable, I said that in that case I was better off sleeping rough somewhere quieter where there were not frightening people outside my door, and I walked out, I had to leave a lot of stuff behind, but I have found as my time as a homeless person has progressed that you do leave a lot fo stuff behind and that you cannot place value on possessions if you cannot keep them with you, if you have anything of value it needs to stay with you in your pack, if it is too big or of no value it has to be stashed and left at risk of theft, I have had my things lost and stolen a number of times now.

• The Trinity Centre and the nightshelter work so closely together that thay are almost the same unit, when the support worker at the Trinity centre were told that I was sleeping rough, they created a very unpleasant and frightening situation, the support worker told me I should go back to the Nightshelter or she would call social services, I said no I wasn’t going back there, she said that if I walked out she would call social services, she said she could phone the nightshelter and we could discuss it.
•  I said that the manager had made it clear that nothing would be done about the noise and disruption and that I was not going to see social services, she said I could speak to them there or she would alert them anyway or I could go back to the Nightshelter, I said no, I was not going to be grabbed and locked up by social services, she surprisingly said that she agreed I had been through bad things that were not my fault (which shows that the diocese were not influencing the Trinity Centre yet), but she persisted that I had choices, but to me there was no valid choice.
•  she did not deny that social services might involve the police, and  I went out of my mind with terror because I did not want to be trapped at the Trinity Centre any longer or be on the run from the police and social services, fortunately the Trinity Centre doctor came downstairs and took in what was happening because by now I was screaming at this support worker that I had had enough of being trapped and in trouble and I had done nothing to deserve this, the doctor took the support worker aside, and when she came back the support worker said that she would not phone social services.
•  another support worker came and sat with me outside and got me a cup of tea, I was not going to go back to the Trinity Centre but this support worker persuaded me that I could. She told me that the other support worker had simply been concerned. So I didn’t abandon the Trinity Centre at that point.

Homeless in Winchester part 3

• But anyway back to the day when Anne told me that she had had this email, I went back to the police, I was again in a terrible state, I said to the police that the diocese were still driving me mad and sending emails to my friends and I didn’t want to contact the diocese so could the police stop them please? 
• The police were less believing this time, I told them that Jane Fisher was sending emails that were upsetting my friendships and provoking me, and that the diocese had no further reason to be involved now that they had got what they wanted.
•  I told them that the diocese had got me done for retaliating to the terrible situation in Jersey, they asked me who had investigated the abuse in Jersey, they asked me Anne and her husband’s name and asked about JM and Jane Fisher, they asked if I was suicidal and mistakenly said they thought I had come in suicidal and dangerous because of this incident and I said no, that I was just very distressed.
• I had not come in threatening suicide, but asking in despair to be protected from the Diocese, which I never was.

• they asked if this had happened before and I was puzzled, they said they had seen it on the system about the time when I had ended up in the police station because the WPC had considered me suicidal due to my row with George and Jill. 
• I said I was not suicidal – I did not want or need to be locked in and hurt any further, the police seargent turned nice and said that they would speak to the diocese and that I should take things easy and that I would have good and bad days and things would get better eventually.
•  I found this helpful and reassuring, as well as the fact that I had now been in a police station twice without being battered and locked up. The policeman and saergent said they would speak to the diocese and get back to me.
•  They never got back to me but I know the diocese well enough to know how well and efficiently they would have covered up, all the words about how they were ‘trying to help me’, ‘concerned for me’, ‘sorry that they had to take action against me but they did and they were worried for my welfare’, 
• all the empty smooth talk, and the fact that what they had done the situation they had caused and the fact that they were hurting and provoking me beyond bearing while I could do nothing to defend myself and was watching my precious friendships go down the drain at the hands of the people who had just had me convicted and imprisoned seemed irrelevant and forgotten, but I refrained from contacting the diocese. I trusted the police, wrongly, to ask these people to refrain.

• I spoke with my other friends, Elizabeth and Peter, again they had been made aware of the situation by other people, not me, I asked who, and they tried to avoid the question, they said ‘people who are concerned about you’, I persisted in asking who, and they said ‘oh, Anne and other people who were concerned’
•  Anne and her husband said they had spoken to no-one, Elizabeth and Peter’s friendship with me had always exclusively been me going to see them at (their home), the only places I saw them were at their house, at the church, and at the fete or the school
•  But Elizabeth wanted to meet me in town, which seemed very odd, and reminded me of the diocese, of Tracy suddenly telling me I couldn’t come to her house without explaining why, after Jane Fisher had interfered, and how that damaged me.

• I was suspicious, I met with the Elizabeth and Peter but told them not to discuss anything, Elizabeth refused to answer my continued questions and so I told them  just as I told Anne and and her husband that I believed them to be unsafe friends to me due to the diocese.
• there were no protests or attempts to stay in touch, and the church friendships had become, through the diocese, just empty tools of pretend concern, my friends were gone,
•  My friend Shirley made attempts to contact me and to come to the Nightshelter with things for me, I had told the nightshelter that no-one from the church was to come or to interact about me, but they had ignored that and Shirley left me some things of mine that had been at her house, and a note, which made me upset and angry, 
• I did not want the raped destroyed friendships from the church penetrating the nightshelter and I was angry that the instruction to the nightshelter that no-one from the church was to contact me or discuss me with the nightshelter had been overridden, and I reinforced that wish angrily, and told Shirley to leave me alone.
•  I also found out that the Bishop of Winchester is patron of the Nightshelter, and so my stay there was under the shelter of the man who destroyed me and he was free to access my records and cause prejudice and unsettle me and separate me from the helpers. Which is what he and Jane Fisher did.

• So I had been back a week and seen the diocese completely wipe out years of trust and friendships, my strongest, oldest and most valuable friendships, and humiliate me completely, I had been back a week and had had to go to the police twice, I had been back a week and the nightmares and distress and panics were being heaped on me by the church when what had happened was already unbearable.
• I referred myself to the council after the support workers failed to do anything about the housing process, but after an hour and a half trying to survive a meeting with the council we had made little progress and I was exhausted, they made another Appointment for two days time, but I was ill that day and the support workers at the shelter suddenly wanted to be involved, they cancelled the appointment and no more appointments were made so I gave up.
•  later on after I had left the shelter, the support worker who now crosses the street tried to get me an appointment without even asking me, I cancelled it as I was just too confused and wary, more recently the Mental health services encouraged me to go back to the council but I was simply not able to cope with the meetings and paperwork and was at a point where I prefer to be street homeless and would not want to be on a council estate anyway, it would bring me down not lift me up, I know council estates, I am not being arrogant but I don’t belong there.

• The support worker who originally helping me, was a housing support worker, and she was very good at first, she helped me to get benefits, as I would not have been able to do this on my own, which is one of the reasons I remained in Jersey when things were really bad, applying for state benefits is prohibitively difficult. 
• Anyway, this support worker remained helping me for a while on the streets, even though the building she worked in was hard to get into.
• She did make me a council appointment without my permission though and I cancelled it, the Diocese's side of things had been fed to the council and they were not helpful, I could not cope with the housing process, had no wish to be in council
• This support worker told me that the diocese had been in touch with the Nightshelter, she was the one who innocently confirmed it - but in response to my outrage and distress, which was not violent or out of control -she told me it was 'because they wanted to know what church I was going to' as if that made it acceptable.
• This was before I found out I had been slandered to every church in the Winchester Deanery and churches together in Winchester.
• But obviously it got back to the church and nightshelter that I was angry about this, and the support worker started to avoid me, I know I did nothing to her, but she was someone who had provided evidence that the Diocese and nightshelter had acted illegally and breached data protection and my human rights.

• Before this support worker abandoned me without word, she tried and failed to get me into a women's shelter, which as described elsewhere horribly failed when the Diocese's criminal record of me and opinion got to them through the council and nightshelter and I suffered the horrible blow of being called an abuser instead of a survivor of abuse.
• The shelter, who had been very hopeful and encouraging until their heard the diocese's side of things, turned me away as an abuser and told me to go to my doctor to get housed, it is absolutely crazy how many people think casualty or the doctor are housing services, when they are medical services.

• So when this shelter plan fell through and I was on the streets in the snow, this support worker joined the growing inane cries to me to go to casualty, this crazy 'go to your doctor/go to casualty' cry dogged me throughout my time in Winchester and onwards, when I was seeing a doctor regularly and the doctor could not help and going to casulaty for homelessness is a wicked waste of emergency services time, and when I finally actually obeyed this foolhardy request, in London later, I was indeed a waste of their time and left casualty in the early hours, traumatized and vulnerable when I should have been asleep in my hedge, with the hospital unable to help as I was not mentally ill.
• So the Diocese were very succesful in blocking me being housed and removing friendship, safety and confidentiality from me and leaving me shamed and branded on the streets, with the police refusing to act for me and protect me.

Homeless in Winchester 2010 part 2

• I made no contact with the diocese on my return to Winchester, I had no intention of doing so, and stupidly believed that they would do likewise, stupidly, stupidly believed that now they had destroyed me and made it clear beyond anything that they did not believe me and believed Key, that they would accept that they had severely ‘punished’ me and would leave me alone, but I was mistaken, very mistaken, I had forgotten Jane Fisher’s job of protecting the church’s reputation, and here I was in Winchester, destroyed and such a danger to that reputation, and I have no doubt that despite this statement being true, Jane Fisher has and is there to ‘hush things up’ that too will be hidden and covered so that it does look like the diocese were simply ‘concerned’ about me, despite being the ones who destroyed me and their ‘concern’ having no benefit to me whatsoever and being of great harm to me as well as the fact that they refused to withdraw their interventions since I came back and went on and on intervening as I screamed at them in anguish, my reopening of communication with them was entirely provoked as continued to be hurt, shocked and harmed by their intervention and its impact on me.

• And guess what they did about me going out of my mind and screaming at Jane Fisher to back down and asking the Bishop again and again to withdraw her from intervention? They had me attacked by the police, covered up their intervention and made it look as if I was mad, I was treated nastily and brutally by the police, and was bruised and thrown around screaming in terror and distress, I was locked up and had the police outside the cell calling me paranoid and a troublemaker and getting my CRB  check on the computer and the diocese having hidden what had happened in Jersey and dissociated themselves from it, I was called a troublemaker because of what they read about what was written, that one sided destroyal of me in Jersey, so there I was, destroyed by what had happened in Jersey and having suffered and suffered at Fisher’s hands since my return to Winchester, being called a troublemaker and seriously mentally ill because the diocese took offence at my autistic despairing reaction to the terrible and wrong continued interference in my life.
• Anyway that comes later, back to the story:
• I went to the Trinity Centre the next day after a night of sickness and nightmares at the Nightshelter, and when I went to the Trinity Centre I had a terrible terrible shock, Lou Scott-Joynt phoned me, she had somehow got my number muddled up with (my friend's)number and was obviously aware that (my friend) was involved with me, she was trying to phone (my friend) about me and had phoned me! I collapsed, Lou Scott-Joynt realised she had phoned me and said ‘oh is that ******? This is Lou Scott-Joynt’. I told her to go to hell and I put the phone down in shock, 

• later I found that I also had a previous missed call from her on my phone, I was so shocked I escaped from the homeless centre and was sobbing and sick, I phoned (my friend) who was still in Jersey, I told her that Lou-Scott-Joynt had been trying to phone her and that I was going to the police, I told her I could not cope with the diocese continuing to interfere now that they had destroyed me, (my friend) said that if anyone spoke to her that she would speak to them and would listen and that her opinion would still be her own, but the diocesan interference and (my friends) being involved at all took away the trust of that long strong relationship, I did not feel that I am safe from the prying church and their interference and I felt ashamed and humiliated and unwilling to confide anything to these friends any more, can I ask you to imagine the impact of this on me?

• My friends may may be different ages to me, but they were some of my first friends and it was a long, strong and trusting relationship where I didn’t feel judged, as a result of what happened  I felt l condemned and ashamed and humiliated and unable to trust until I stopped  seeing them, in all appearances the relationship would seem the same as ever, but inside the bonds  frayed and the solidness is gone. I am sorry to admit that, it breaks my heart, Lou Scott-Joynt really stuck the knife in by what she did, if she had got hold of my friend instead of me and it had been kept quiet, I do not know what would have happened, but she got me, and she left me traumatised and shocked to realise that the diocese thought they could simply continue to rape my life for their own ends.
•  'Genuine concern for me' would be their glib answer, but if there had been any genuine concern, they would have left me and my relationships alone and allowed me to rebuild my life instead of violating me and having me slated for my response, what they did was callously cruel and unhealable.

•  I do not know if Lou Scott-Jouynt proceeded to talk to my friend, but people obviously have, and so I felt ashamed when I go to see my friend, my friend’s daughter  was obviously unsure of me after I was forced to leave Jersey, and one day she was there with her friend, her friend had obviously been told whatever my friends' view of the matter was as she blurted out something about it in a very bright and humiliating way and went on to say something about me wearing her friend's old top, even though at the time I wasn’t, I was wearing similar, but she seemed to think it was all a great joke, and I was very humiliated, while her friend tried to get her to hush up and go upstairs with her.
• This is some of the impact of the Diocese and their violations, can you imagine if you were publicly disgraced like this and powerless and helpess against this humiliation? No one reading this would want to go through what I did.

• Back to the story, I went straight from the homeless Centre to the police station, I was so shocked and seeing police on top of that was the last thing I needed, but I could not stand the thought of the diocese going on and on and on hurting me, 
• I was broken beyond healing and I do not know how I got through those first terrible days back in Winchester, the policeman who I spoke to was actually very nice, this was before the Bishop and Jane Fisher had their say to the police, the policeman looked at my phone and I told him what had happened, I was panicking from being in the policestation and I was in shock from the call from Lou Scott-Joynt,
•  I do not know how I didn’t break down completely, I showed the policeman the number on my phone, afterwards I worried in case I had shown him the nightshelter number which is similar and had also come up when the nightshelter secretary had tested that she had my mobile number by phoning it. 
• The policeman said he would phone Lou Scott-Joynt and ask her not to contact me and for the diocese to leave me alone, he said I did not look like a troublemaker when I explained to him how the diocese had got me done for retaliating to what had been happening in Jersey. He said he would phone me back to let me know about it, but he never did.
• Basically the Diocese had all the voice and when I repeatedly begged the police to stop them, the police treated me as mad and refused to do anything. It remains that they have not and will not restrain the Diocese from harming me.

• I went to See Anne and her husband, the last thing I wanted to do was bring my problems to them, I wanted to see them, in all this destroyal the sweetest thing was to be able to see Anne and her husband,
•  I went to see them, I didn’t go on about what had happened to me or my situation, the last thing I wanted was to load them with my problems even though they are emotionally balanced and don’t get overwhelmed with anyone’s problems
• , I made a great effort to be cheerful and happy to be in Hampshire, I told them that I was in the nightshelter and we just chatted. Anne wanted me to come back and see them again soon, and I said I would, sadly a few days later I spoke to Anne on the phone about coming to see them when she had said I could, but she told me she had had an email forwarded to her by JM, which was from Jane Fisher, I was indescribably shocked and angry, this woman Jane Fisher was using JM who had covered Fred’s abuse by calling me malicious and who had involved herself in the matter in Jersey and harmed me by doing so, 

• Jane Fisher was using JM in this matter as if I was not shamed and humiliated enough! And was raping my friendship with Anne and her family this way, humiliating me, giving the church’s opinion to my friends, there was an is no way that the arrest and imprisonment will ever heal for me, and it was bad enough my friends knowing that this terrible thing had happened, but for the diocese to go on and interfere in this way after what had happened was intolerable. I do not know what Jane Fisher said in her email, I do know that there is no way whatsoever that this could have been beneficial to me.
• Anyway after Anne repeatedly trying to talk to me and force this onto me while I screamed, that was the end of my friendship with Anne and her family, Anne was dying and died a few months later, with me estranged from her, and the diocese would not even let me grieve, they raped my grief and used it to the police as well, a friendship of over 10 years and full of love, was destroyed by the Diocese's influence that they used to cover their backs and defame me, friendships of 10 years and more were wiped out and I was defamed, to church members and officers such as Anne, and as most of my friends were church members and position holders, I watched my friendships and the whole structure of my life in my hometown of Winchester, swept away.

Winchester 2010 return homeless

• I arrived back in Hampshire on October 11^th 2010, I came out of the airport arrivals and logged onto a computer, I was afraid that anyone would be really concerned about my two weeks of silence while I had been locked up, I had many many emails in both accounts, but no-one was too worried, because in the end I had only had intermittent email access as I had no transport or computer or money, I was saddened by the email from the stroke association, I had been meant to be running in a marathon for them when I was in custody.
• I didn’t read most of my emails, there were a load from Shirley, I never read them. I went on Facebook and said I was in Hampshire, I got a few questions about when I would be coming to London, and I said I was back permenantly so there was no rush .

• I had nowhere to go, I had money in my account as my salary from before the arrest had come through while I had been locked up, and I had obviously spent nothing, I got a cup of tea, cups of tea help with most things including blind terror and being utterly destroyed.
• I was exhausted and shaking, I wasn’t going to get far from the airport, I did not want to collapse and end up detained again, so I crossed the road to that Travelodge type place, the rooms there are expensive, but I needed to keep myself safe from being detained again, I booked a room, the people on the desk seemed unstartled by my appearance and I do not know if they could see my lack of underwear and the shock I was in, I unpacked the clothes that the police had flung together in bags, there was very little wearable in there, it was mainly my old or unwearable clothes and worn out work clothes, but at least there was a bra in there, it was a high impact sports bra that I wore for training, it pulled on my shoulders badly as those things do, but at least it was a bra, I could have some modesty and dignity back. The only shoes I had were my old soft shoes that were worn through at the soles, there were holes right through the soles, they were meant for indoors, but I had nothing else and had not been able to afford anything.

• It was good to have a long hot luxurious bath, but I didn’t stop shaking, I I put on what clean clothes I could, it was difficult because they really had sent the rubbish and left my everyday clothes behind, all my other possessions were left behind, and sadly I never had the means to make any arrangement to collect them. I literally lost everything I ever achieved, even my certificates and awards, meaning I will never be able to get a job as I have no proof at all of qualifications; I lost my toys, my keyboard, my books, my trinkets and personal possessions, my photographs, everything I had left from my clearout and burning of things when my life collapsed after what the Keys said to me. Everything was gone, even the exciting tall ship adventure that I had been offered free of charge.

• So there I was, destitute, in shock, destroyed, condemned completely, with my cherished good record gone, my life condemned by abusers and their supporters. Everything Ihad ever lived or worked for was gone, my home my job, my sports, my college, my worship, my volunteer work, all gone, everything I had worked so hard for, and there I was, condemned, shamed, undressed, jeered at, called terrible things, the only good thing I could think of was that I was rid of Jane Fisher and the diocese, surely that awful woman  would be satisfied now, surely they would leave me alone now, and I was home in my beloved Hampshire, even though my heart was with the boats and the sea around Jersey, and will be forever.
• I tried to put myself to bed but I kept hurtling across the room crying out in distress, I couldn’t cry properly but I was whimpering, I put the television on to ‘Magic Radio’ and the soft music helped me to calm down.
• In the morning I couldn’t look out the window at the aeroplanes, the aeroplanes that I would never fly on again, the aeroplanes that were going home without me, the aeroplanes that had made me more equal with the people who had belittled me, the aeroplanes that had made me go up in the world and into a better quality of life, and now brought me back to a life that would never have quality again.

• I went to Winchester, leaving my bags in the safe storage of the hotel, I went to the nightshelter, wondering if they would have any beds free as they get quite full, I spoke to the secretary and manager and they said they had a bed for me, they said that I should come back in the evening and be registered for a bed, I wondered how on earth I was going to explain to them why I was homeless, and I was so ashamed, I did not know then that the diocese were going to be hot on my heels with all their explanations and cover ups and pretence of concern of me, I thought that the whole church situation was finally and horribly over. But I was wrong, I had not escaped Jane Fisher, the invincible legal expert cover up officer, she had punishment upon punishment in store for me, including becoming involved in my use of the Nightshelter and Trinity Centre and the cover up of this intervention, to my detriment.

• The Nightshelter sent me to the Trinity centre, the daycentre for homeless people, and I went there and tried exhaustedly to answer their questions as best I could.
• I collected my bags from Southampton and went to the Nightshelter in the evening, The man who checked me in, Phil took a long long time to check me in, part of it was that he kept interrupting my explaination of the church’s damage to me by telling me that he was a Christian who had suffered at the hands of the church too, and he went on into a ramble about City Church and the politics there and how he had had to leave and now he was a Christian without a church and the rest of it. 
• 
  
• Other residents kept coming into the office and demanding things and talking as he checked me in, later this hour long check in was used to degrade me, as if I was doing something wrong, I was humiliated to hear it repeated back to me as if I had been wasting Phil’s time, he had done the talking and rambling, not me.
• I did my very best to briefly explain my side, and I have no doubt that Jane Fisher must have been very concerned for the Bishop and diocese’s reputation when she knew that I had been released and come back to Winchester and the homeless services, and so the diocese intervened, but it was a lot later and after I had puzzled over the manager’s unhelpfulness that I found out about this intervention as a priest smashed me down on behalf of Jane Fisher and Juliet and the diocese, but I will explain that horrible incident later.

After Winchester -Winchester 2010/11 and onwards

• Can you imagine it? Losing your home and being villified twice in a row?
• Hard for many readers to imagine, because not many people go through such an endless horror, I know at least one of my readers has, several readers from Jersey have been through terrible ordeals, and I salute you for your courage.
• This is a really hard subject to write about.

• I was so badly maligned, and my life so badly interfered with in Winchester, that in the end, bewildered and broken, I had to give up and flee.
• I was tired and confused and not sure where to go, because, after Jersey, Winchester and Hampshire were my only home. I had a bit of contact with my family still, although the Jersey and diocese situation had put strain on my relationship with my family, but at the time I left Winchester it had not removed my relationship with my family.
• Also, my family, all survivors, had their own problems, and none of them lived anywhere that I called 'home' and they are not the sort of family who are equipped to help each other out, none showed any concern for my homelessness at the time.

• I didn't know how to escape from Winchester at first, several attempts led to me being maligned by Winchester homeless services and council, who in turn had accepted the defamation of me by Jane Fisher and the Scott-Joynts, so I was maligned as far away as Scotland when I fled there to try to escape Jane Fisher and the Bishop, and basically fleeing all that way only to be criminalized is no better than just staying put with what is familiar and being maligned at home in Winchester.
• At one point I was attempting to access help in Southampton, which is not the best place, as jane Fisher lives there, but nonetheless, it is a town I have known since childhood, and was close to my remaining friends and the familiarity of Winchester, but the homeless centre doctor from Winchester, who is a 'Christian' turned up at the homeless centre in Southampton, and so I fled again, and was given unhelpful reports about 'not liking the doctor' which was rubbish, I did like the doctor but I was also not prepared to go on being linked back to Winchester and the slander of me there.
• Basically no matter where I went or what I did, my privacy was violated by the defamation which came from the 'caring' diocese, who defamed and drove me out to cover their wrongdoing at my expense, and got their side of things heard, while I was cowering like a whipped dog as I was endlessly treated as if I was mad and bad.

• And my reaction to this atrocious situation simply backed up the Diocese's side of things, especially as they condemned me as mentally ill and omitted my autism and the abuse in Jersey, repeatedly.
• The Diocese stupidly and uselessly kept trying to force on me and other people, that I needed medical help, this led to my trip to Winchester CAB, where Lou Scott-Joynt worked, being invalidated, this was because instead of helping me in finding a way to protect me from the Diocese, they tried to say I needed medical help, and treated my plea for help as mental illness, and refused to help me.
• The reason all of this is so stunningly ridiculous is, that throughout my time homeless in Winchester, I was under the care of a doctor, and not once did any doctor mention or treat me as if I was mentally ill, and they didn't even ask to refer me for help.

• Firstly I was under the care of the doctor at the homeless centre in Winchester, and I had a problem with this as she told me she was a Christian who worshipped in Winchester, and secondly she did not respond properly to the fact I was having trouble walking and climbing stairs, she tested my reflexes and said they were ok so I must be ok.
• So at the time, the spine injuries, leg length sydrome, misalignments and asthma etc, were not important because my reflexes were ok - this is the story of my life with the NHS.
• The one thing the homeless doctor did do, to her eternal credit, was put a stop to a situation where I was trapped by staff at the homeless centre and threatened with police and social services involvement when I took to sleeping rough after the Diocese violated my privacy by interfering at the nightshelter where the Bishop was patron.
• I will never forget being trapped in the homeless centre, where the staff control the door locks, and being told if I insisted on going then then police and social services would be after me, I really hit the roof, and I screamed at the staff that they had no right to do this, hysterical that after my experiences in Jersey, I was to be trapped and forced on again, and again because of the Diocese.
• The Homeless Doctor came downstairs, and got the staff to pack it in and let me go, that is to her eternal credit, but that situation was another of many many traumas from Octorber 2010 to now, I am far from recovered now, especially as the diocese continue to smash me down.

• Anyway, as a result of all this, I did not feel comfortable with the homeless doctor, and I registered temporarily at another surgery, it reminded me of the surgery I had been registered at in my early 20s, grotty, long waiting times and no patient care.
• I registered at another surgery, and I have to say, they were pretty good, in general, they actually DID SOMETHING about some of my problems.

• I remember how I used to go in there afraid, as if I was going to be trapped and hurt, but they didn't do that, they were so good that I even phoned them a few times, despite my problems using a phone.
• The doctor I saw regularly was kind and helpful, she told me there was pretty much nothing available locally on the NHS for trauma and counselling, when I asked. She told me that unfortunately all that was available was that wretched Christian counselling service in Winchester, the one that didn't help me before, the one that contacted JM without my permission and got her opinionated opinion of me in my early 20s. 
• Unfortunately that Christian counselling service was all that was available in Winchester at the time, counselling would not be enough, and seeing as I had been maligned and defamed throughout the Christian network in Winchester by Jane Fisher and the Scott-Joynts, it would have been a damaging waste of time to apply, especially, and most importantly, as I knew that I was too disturbed for counselling and could not relate to a counsellor.
• But the Doctor saw me regularly and did not treat me as mentally ill, did not see me as mentally ill and did not ask or offer to refer me for help, thus the way I was turned away by places like the CAB remains henious, and a wound that will never heal, and as a result, the CAB, a place I really need to assist me at times, remains inaccesible to me because of how I was treated.
• The doctor, as I said, DID help me in other ways, she had me referred to a podiatrist for my walking, and I was found to have leg length syndrome, at last, and this leg length problem is part of what affects my tendons and ligaments, causes pain and affects how I walk, although there are other issues there.
• This doctor also diagnosed me with asthma, at last! When the asthma became more severe, but I was left alone to work out how to use the inhalers.

I will stop there and share these memories.

Involving Innocent people?

The Korris report claims I was 'involving innocent people', the reality is, the Korris report was written under Jane Fisher's direction, and turns the fact that I was turning to anyone I could think of as witnesses to try to stop the damage to me by Jane Fisher.
I have asked a number of people, mainly those who I was maligned to in Winchester in 2010/2011, to witness some of my side of things.
No doubt that will bring the same response from Fisher in five years of so when another one-sided investigation is launched in the press to glorify the Church of England to anyone who doesn't know them well enough to see through them.

The Diocese would rather I was seen as involving innocent people than the real reason, that I want my side heard, and I want witnesses, and their one-sided defamation of me has gone on long enough.
And they would rather I was imprisoned than got my voice heard and thus let people know the wrong they have done.

They involved innocent people when they launched their public attack on me and the Jersey Deanery, they have wrecked my life when the matter was in the past, and they have caused a lot of damage and money wasteage,

But is anyone going to do reports into them and publicly defame them?
It is left up to me to speak out, at risk of further unjust punishments, while the Diocese will never face punishment for what they have done.

Lets be honest about Jersey

It was lovely to meet with a Jerseyman recently and talk about the people and places we know.
It was also traumatic.
My visits to Jersey or Winchester are traumatic, and so for the moment I do not make those visits, however, I have been taught by a psychologist, that it will be better for me, eventually to visit those places enough to make my peace with them, part of the healing process.

Lets be honest about Jersey, it is a small island, and even a member of the clergy there said that if you make the wrong enemies there, it can make life hell for you.
And I guess for a real Jersey born person, it can be hell because you can't escape it.

I am lucky in that, even though the way I 'escaped' was very wrong and the way I was treated was very wrong, and I escaped into the hands of Jane Fisher and Scott-Joynt, who thought I hadn't been destroyed enough and did the same again, violating my whole life, privacy and human rights and removing all my friendships and branding me, and setting the police on me for my reaction, I did escape, and currently free from the Diocese in some ways, I have rebuilt my life, although I am deemed unfit to work even in supported employment now, I have some quality of life, although the record will ensure I always live a half-life and will always be waiting for death.

Anyway, I escaped Jersey, where poor and vulnerable people are treated as if they have no rights.
And I was going to start blogging at this point about the Jersey system and who is who in church, states and judiciary, but I am getting tired already and will actually contiue this post by editing it later, but will publish it now.

Jersey is small and not governed well, it can seem just fine to holiday makers and visitors, and it is very popular for 'booze cruisers', but it is a harsh place to live if you are poor, and I didn't meet any contented rich people there, interestingly, I met rich people who said they wished they were dead, who were bitter and burned out and unhappy and treated the poor badly. It's such a shame, what's left of the beauty of the Island is still very beautiful, the beaches and cliffs and reefs, the Ecrehous and all that, beautiful, but it is a crowded and unhappy island, and although I struggle to love the beautiful area where I am, it is better governed and safer and happier than Jersey.

I struggle to love my 'home' area because of the way Jersey and Winchester were ripped from me, because I am afraid of the same happening again, and the disasterous way the diocese launched on me last year did affect me horribly in my community, there is no assurance that the same wont happen again.
Those who don't know, Winchester is my 'home' city, that I escaped from my family to when I was 17.
The diocese, to cover their backs, destroyed my life and community in Winchester when I returned there homeless from Jersey.

Transferred from the other blog - a brief chronology part 1 and 2 The other blog was known as 'My Terrible experience of the Diocese of Winchester' it contained 21 posts, most of which are on this blog, and is now offline, replaced by this one

Ok, lets see if I myself can drag myself out of the stupor and blank memory caused by trauma and do you a very brief chronology:

• Aged 19, my counsellor, who was also a vicar, was crossing boundaries and intervening in my relationships at college, she also arranged a dud work placement for me that could not possibly succeed, she then took me home to her family as I reminded her of the stepdaughter she had had to give up when she had to choose between the step-daughter and her violent tempered husband.
• I was abused by her husband aged 19 and 20.
• I became part of her church and community, she was no longer my counsellor but was in charge of my life and told people her view of me, which enraged me as it was inaccurate and unhelpful.
• There were no queries about safeguarding, the safeguarding director of the Winchester Diocese was not alerted, even when I lived with this vicar and her husband and was abused sexually and verbally by the husband and abused by the Vicar manipulating my life because I was the image of the step-daughter she had had to abandon, who was herself very emotionally damaged by her father's violent temper.
• I continued for many years to be part of the church community and had stable, long-term friends and put in hundreds of hours of voluntary work for the church and community - but Jane Fisher had no interest in this side of my story, nor did the Jersey clergy in the recent smear campaign against me.
• After being placed in a sheltered house by the Vicar, I started to grow up and gain confidence, despite the sheltered house being an unstable setup, with a recent suicide that went undiscovered until the body started to smell, and one agency support worker who was only there part time. i did not benefit from the 'sheltered' environment but I did gain from being at a distance from the vicar and her husband, and when he continued advances I reported him to her.
• At first the Vicar said she believed me because her step-daughter, his daughter, had also made allegations, and that he had become impotent after she (the Vicar) refused him sex due to his tantrums, she confronted him and they had one of their (fairly regular) blazing rows, they had a period of not speaking to each other (also fairly frequent), and she got another church member who was a Freeemason in the same lodge as her husband to speak to him, while she spoke to another woman.
• When the Vicar and her husband had marital problems, which was all the time, the Vicar said she would never speak to Wolvsley about it because they were cold and they were snobbish and she wouldn't get any help from them, she said that instead she spoke to Bishop Trevor (Wilmott) who was the then Bishop of Basingstoke, the Vicar and Bishop Trevor had a warm friendship and it was rumoured, even by the Vicar, that he fancied her. the Vicar was sad that he was going to move away.
• So before I ever made contact with the Diocese of Winchester, I had been given the impression of them by the Vicar and her husband that they were cold and uncaring and snobbish, this was reinforced several times as my years in the Diocese of Winchester continued.

 A brief Chronology part 2:

• The Vicar at first said that she believed me about her husband and that her step-daughter had said the same thing about him and that she thought he had got frustrated about her refusing sex because of his tantrums, she also said that this made him impotent.
• But then she changed her tune and kept saying it was 'six of one and half-a-dozen of the other/ that I was equally to blame or that I was wholly to blame due to being a flirt.
• This caused a permenant rift, because I continued to feel very hurt by this for the rest of the time I knew the Vicar, though we remained friends. 
• The Vicar did not report the matter to the Bishop or safeguarding director. Instead, she told me that if I reported him to anyone it would be my word against his, and she wouldn't answer when I asked her where she would be in things if I did report him.
• Later that same year she got her husband to give me lifts to church-twinning events, despite what had happened. He did start to be flirtatious again, but didn't go very far.
• I think it is important to say at this point that I was now damaged by the Damaged by abuse and lack of safeguarding in the Diocese of Winchester on top of the background that I had come from. 
• The Vicar used to go to relate because of her marital problems, she tried to get her husband to go with her, but he refused, this was previous to me being around.
• The Vicar's parents lived with her, they said it was to 'look after her' because they said her husband didn't look after her. There were often big arguments involving the whole family. while I was around, these arguments involved the Vicar helping me, me being blamed for the abuse, and how alike I was to the Vicar's step-daughter and what her husband did to the step/daughter, the rows did not help me to recover from my childhood as it was the same sort of thing, and it left me disillusioned about the church of england and Christianity.
• I got confirmation of the Vicar and her husband's complaints about Wolvsley when I was snubbed by the Bishop's wife after previously being spoken to by her. I continued to be told about how cold Wolvsley could be and how they had snubbed the benefice administrator from the Vicar's benefice.
• I didn't blame them for snubbing him shortly after that, when he ran off with a girl from Old Alresford Place, the headquarters of the Diocese of Winchester, further dissilusioning me as he and her were both employees of the Diocese, and the Diocese is supposedly about Christianity, but the benefice administrator ran off with this other employee, leaving his wife alone and dying of cancer. This was within my first few years in the Diocese of Winchester but it took me a long time, ten years of incidents like this, to realise that the church of england do not have, promote or care about morals. I had come to the Diocese believing that sex outside of marriage was wrong, as well as having a number of other ethical beliefs, which the church of england did not uphold.
• The Vicar, for some reason, presumably, but not necessarily because I told her about her husband abusing me, told me very personal things about her own sex life, and further disillusioned me.
• The things the Vicar told me included how her husband had become impotent when she refused him sex, how she and other students at college had put a copy of 'the joy of sex' in the College Dean's letter tray/pigeonhole/similar and his wife had not been amused, she also told me that she had allowed herself to be picked up for sex by a married man and spent the night at his house and his wife had been angry in the morning, she also told me that she had masturbated a man from a breakdown company when she was alone in the woods with him and her broken down car while her husband had gone to get help. Telling me these things continued my disillusionment with the church of England as I could not work out how people in positions in the church and who called themselves Christians could do things like this. This also upset my own confused boundaries and I did not know what was right to talk about and what was not, as, at this time, I was still outgrowing my terrible upbringing and trying to learn where I stood as a young adult. But who has been slandered as trouble in the church? These people in positions in the church who have behaved badly? or me? me.
• I was very swiftly baptised and confirmed into the church of england, too quickly, and given no real understanding of the church, it's calender or what confirmation meant. The people present at my baptism included the Vicar, her husband and two people who later supported the Vicar and her husband when I returned from Jersey, even though I had told them about the abuse and they had never reported it to the Diocese. My Baptism was a rush job a week before confirmation, and I wasn't ready, nor was it a real baptism in my understanding, having been brought up to believe that Baptism was immersion, and this baptism done so quickly that I understood nothing, it was not about me but about the Vicar's agenda and a production line confirmation. I later re-baptised myself in the sea, unwittingly upsetting a few people in church?
• Aged 20 I moved to a town away from Winchester, where I was working by then, I made the move quite suddenly and startled the Vicar, I was then living and working independently and to celebrate, I took the Vicar and her husband out for a meal, it was only at a cheap cafe and we had a laugh about it, but I had told them it was to try and express my gratitude to the Vicar for looking after me, because despite the problems, she was my friend and I loved her.

Happier Memories, parties, outings and things like that

There weren't many happy or stress-free times in my life with my family, there were a few, but we didn't get to go out and do things like normal families do.
This isn't anyone's fault, we were a large family with no money.

When I left home and went to college, I had my first real outings and 'fun'.

I remember going bowling for the first time, when I was 17, to me it was awesome, I was not sure of myself, afraid I would be shown up as I simply had no idea even about exchanging my shoes for bowling shoes.
But I seem to remember that it went well enough for me to want to go bowling again after that, and have always enjoyed it, although I had dire bowling experiences in Jersey.

Other wonderful outings were with Youth Group, we went ice skating and I developed an absolute love for that, I used to skate at every opportunity in my mid 20s, when I was living a few miles from the rink.
Youth group also went bowling, and swimming, and I remember how wonderful it was to be there, to be part of it, to join in, to be included, and they were wonderfully inclusive, they brightened my life.

Ski-Bobbing: This was one of the best Youth Group Trips! We went ski-bobbing on the dry ski-slopes in the New Forest, it was an experience, going speeding down the hill on the ring things, it was awesome fun! And we had a nice meal afterwards, what you call a basket meal, the others were used to all this, of course, and some of them watched the skiiers on the other slope, because a number of the youth group could ski, but it seems no matter how well off you are, fun is universal and we all enjoyed ski-bobbing and speeding down the hill on the ringoes.
Thank you for including me, it made life better for me.

Cinema: I didn't go to the cinema until G. my lovely boyfriend took me to the cinema, and he liked action films, of course, all gangsters and drugs, and his dad was a police officer, so G's dad, driving us home from the cinema, had to listen to us planning a drugs haul like in the movie we had seen, he was most amused.
G. Was a sweet well behaved young gentleman, I must write about him some time. We went out for a few years and never once did he behave improperly. Good man.
But once I had learned cinema and worked out how to get a seat on my own and away from others, I really enjoyed it and went when I could, but not to see gangster films unless I was with G. I prefer comedy and children's films. Although in Jersey, my friend who had labelled me a vigilante, took me to see 'Kickass' because she thought it was my kind of film, and actually, I did find it interesting, I did not enjoy the sequel so much.

Parties:

Well, you have the 21st Birthday story elsewhere in the blog, so I wont redo that.

There were so many parties and events in the village, many of which I helped with, as best I could, I remember helping to do hundreds of bacon rolls and wash hundreds of plates and other things one Saturday at a fundraising event for Romania, run of course by our then Mission Support Leader, the one who was convicted of child abuse and porn, and who I am supposed to be the same as because of my disability, and who the Korris report churned out some incomprehensible nonsense about to cover up and condemn me.
Ah, but that was one of many lovely mornings spent on community events.

The main parties out of the many many parties, were the barn dances, and my friends' parties.

The barn dances were another lovely time for me, having grown up without such events, it was all such fun! the music, the dancing, usually some of the youth group were there, and we had such fun, although they knew what a conga was, and I did not, so they had to teach me.

Two of the couples I was friends with, had Christmas parties every year and various garden parties in the summer, and I loved to help out.
The Christmas parties especially were part of my happier times and certainly part of my Christmas for 10 years or so.

One party would be on the Sunday before Christmas, I think, and I would stand at the door, greet everyone, because this was scripted, and the only way really, for me to be able to talk to people, and so, I would take their coats and put the coats upstairs in the spare room, which my friend referred to as 'my room' because I sometimes stayed over.
When the coats were pretty much done and almost everyone was there (there were always people arriving later on), I would hand round snacks and things along with the family doing the same, and generally I would stay by the door for latecomers and people leaving, finding the right coat for the right person was always fun.
Then the other party at Christmas was Christmas eve, people arriving in the late morning for lunchtime, I think.
Again I would stand by the door, take coats, respond politely to the usual comments about my 'job' of taking coats, and again I would hand out food as well.
Usually I would stay on and look at the tree with all it's decorations, and then it would be Christmas and whatever the plans were for the rest of the day, night or whatever.

The Village also had a Christmas party, the day before Christmas eve, every year, it was more than a party it was a kind of talent and variety show, and comedy, acting and all kinds of things went on, really well done and well run, great fun, although in the end it kind of lost it's magic for me. Again I would help in the kitchen, with refreshments and mainly taking trays of wine round and collecting the glasses afterwards during the interval.

It was a delight and a special time for me, to be part of all that, and although it is cloaked in the sadness of being defamed and driven out and shunned thanks to Jane Fisher and JM between them, the memories were real and remain.

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! 

I guess information like this means that the Jersey Deanery are nearing their triumph and I am about to be destroyed by the reports that omit my views

Ian's blog http://therightofreply.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/200000-pissed-up-wall-in-church-debacle.html