http://lifeafterthediocese.blogspot.co.uk/

Today's post.
Well the weather is a bit rough today, and yesterday and tomorrow. for once the Daily Express's Hysteria about the weather appears to be correct.

Yesterday evening I battled through weather and rush hour and pain to see my friends.
It was worth it, I was delighted when I got there that they had got me a real little Christmas tree, all decorated with lights and baubles and in a pot.

We went shopping, and so I have another load of groceries and goodies.
And then we had a meal and a good old natter, so that was lovely.

It was very late last night when I got home. And I was tired and in pain, but it was all worth it.

I slept through the night, woke in pain at 7am and took painkillers, and then fell asleep until 10.15am!!!!!!!!!
The luxury of housedwelling, a lie in as the rain and wind batter the house.
It took me a few hours to sort myself out and then go in town to look for a new collar. I haven't found one yet, so I will have to ask the phys or the doctor.
Haha, yes, I need a new neck collar, I haven't worn one since Jersey, and I think it got left there, but the pain is so horrendous, even with 1000mg (prescribed) of ibuprophen and combination painkillers, which make me feel more ill.
Collars remind me of a female priest I know, who never wears her dog collar, and she got told off by a man at church for not wearing a collar, and so when she was sorting out leads and collars for her dogs, she tried on a studded dog collar and considered going to church wearing it. Ah, it did suit her :)

Well today I am going to see if I can arrange a physio appointment and then I am going to wrap up in my princess blanket and watch television, or the fish tank, depending on what is on :) Tomorrow I am going to startle the gang by turning up at church wearing a coat, that'll worry them!

Excuse the lack of historic posts, I can't do much online at the moment and I am not well enough to focus on transferring posts from 'homeless' to this blog yet.

today's post

Good evening.
Really feeling unwell, but am out and about at the moment.
This morning I did a very successful shift on street collection for charity, but I was very glad of my thermal top, it was bitter cold out.
Then I have stayed out and about, shopping, running errands and other things, and my friends have asked to borrow me, so I am about to fight my way through rush hour to get to them a while :) hey hey, I'm dreaming of a hot chocolate, with whipped cream and marshmallow.
I will be online first thing in the morning if not again tonight.  If I even get home tonight.

today's post Home for Christmas :)

Well yesterday was getting increasingly stressful as I sat there feeling cold and ill and unable to communicate with any of the essential people, you know how I get when that happens.
Then gradually it all started to sort out, and I felt like a fool for panicking.
Sorry I got stressed, everyone, and thanks for everything.

A few rain showers and heartfelt chats later, we got me as far as a cafe in town and then home.

And then it was all lovely, apart from the pain.

everything looked lovely, the fairy lights, all my cards hung up on strands of tinsel, the candle lit, all beautiful.
I was left alone in the house with the sattelite tv, but I found the fish tank much more interesting to watch.So me and the cat watched the fish tank for a while :)
I was so tired that I was in bed by 8pm, but I woke at 1.30am in horrendous pain, got up, took painkillers with tea and did acupressure and slept again.

I was up at 6am, all excited cos it's Christmas and I am home and everything is awesome!
Still in pain but a bit less, I had a shower and did acupressure and came into town as I am due to be on charity duty in an hour. Not my best thing, but I am happy to help.

It's Christmas! And I am home! :):):) yay.
Last Christmas was tough because I was severely depressed and my friends were ill as well, this year things have been tough but I think the tough has broken up for Christmas.

I hope to be online this afternoon.

Lots of new readers along the South Coast in the last 24 hours, cool. :) I hear you get gales there sometimes.

today's post

Hey peeps,
I am being delayed, I am waiting for the move 'home for Christmas' if you like.
This is frustrating.
I feel quite tired and shaky and unwell after yesterday's efforts, so I hope that various people that I am relying on, make contact.
I will not be online much after today, but don't panic, I will still be writing, and I will post when I get an opportunity, and I will be transferring my full story from the homeless blog to this one, the story of my life in Jersey and before, wonder if I will get arrested for data protection breaches? :)

I am so tired, when I get home I will sleep for a while, and hopefully with some painkillers and lots of deep heat cream, I will be back to normal soon.

this morning's post

Good morning,
7.30am, moving on day.
Can't do much until midday, so have to wait and hope for the best.

I was dreaming a lot in the night, dreamed of my family, sad confused dream, dreamed of my uncle Mike, then I dreamed I was working with a very sad and quiet gardener, and he said to me 'you never ask questions or try to get me to talk', and I replied that I never asked questions or tired to get people to talk, and he said that because of that, he would talk to me.
He told me about his son who had been killed while working on a hedge.

That was a sad dream.

forums, gifts and incorrect comments

someone just drew my attention to the Jersey forum where they have been going on about sending me gifts and other stuff to do with the church. As ever, I find it hard to deal with the inaccuracies.
Unfortunately, due to a serious breach of my trust and confidence in November, I cannot be sent things, I will not put myself or my friends at risk.
The thought is lovely, guys, and I wish with all my heart I could give you a solution and the thought is very kind, but due to the serious risk I was put at, which has left me very ill and tired, I cannot in any way risk my safety or that of my friends, nor can I risk attempts by anyone to use my friends in anything, as this is similar to what has happened.

Just reading brief glimpses of the forum, and very appreciative of the support, I will repost my letter to the Bishop and statement to BBC Jersey. It wlould help me if commentors on the blogs and forums actually took in my side of things and stopped coming out with unhelpful and inaccurate comments that traumatize me. There is no excuse for trying to make the Diocese of Winchester's 'offer of help' valid after what they have done to me.

Bishop Tim Dakin

Wolvsley Palace 

Winchester 

SO23 9ND

19/11/2013

Formal legal letter:

Dear Bishop Tim Dakin,

This is a formal legal letter, to warn you that due to the failure of Hampshire Constabulary to effectively warn you against harassing me and due to your continued harassment of me, you are to desist from harassing me, as are your clergy and staff and anyone associated with you or I will make a public legal effort to have you restrained.

You had no right to have me traced and violated in March by the same police who your safeguarding officer previously used to have me brutalized and detained for 24 hours, claiming I was insane on 14/02/2011 as I responded to her and Bishop Scott-Joynts endless violations of my privacy and human rights in Winchester.

You  forced yourself into my life with humiliating and horrifying press releases which severely embarrassed and shamed me in my community and lost me friends and humiliated and isolated and shocked me, those press releases contained theoretical ‘apologies’ which were no more than PR stunts and were never backed up by genuine personal apologies and there was never any intention of doing so.

Instead you threatened me with a court order that I knew nothing about in reply to me contacting you and begging and begging for you not to do a repeat of the harassment and violation of my life by Jane Fisher and Michael Scott-Joynt that occurred in 2011 which led to them having me repeatedly brutalized by police and locked up, again I have never recovered. I had no knowledge of a court order, but why did you have me traced if I was under a court order, and why did my destroyer, Jane Fisher state to the court in Sussex that she ‘still wanted to help me’, if I was being restrained for responding to her interference? I was left knowing she could go on violating my life and that every time I responded I would be beaten and locked up and no-one would protect me, hence me going on the run and changing my name, and yet you had me traced, violated my privacy and then threatened me when I begged to be left alone! Do you, a Bishop really consider any of this just and fair? I am left as helpless as a child at the hands of a rapist, and that is indeed what this has felt like to me, it is an endless horror from which I am not allowed to escape.

You had the untruthful and defamatory Korris report published internationally and refused to remove it, and allowed your clergy in Jersey to run a smear campaign that has done severe irreparable emotional damage to me. 

You refused at any time to do anything about that made it quite clear while threatening me and also allowing this defamatory report and smear campaign that you had no concern for me or my welfare whatsoever and launched on me and wrecked my life for reasons known only to yourself.

You then allowed a conflicted Judge, Dame Heather Steel, to produce an inaccurate and utterly destroying report against me on behalf of my abuser and the Dean of Jersey, who you cleared of misconduct without investigation despite him having commited misconduct.

You have further proceeded to continue to threaten me by emailing me when asked to desist, you have at all times refused to go through Bob Hill who has been representing me as my mediator since April or May, and instead you intimidate and horrify me by emailing me, when, since your threats about a court order in reply to my pleas to you not to violate my life, your emails cause me severe shock and trauma and I do not read them.

You, your staff and your clergy are to refrain from ever making contact with me, and you are to refrain from publishing and circulating untruthful, defamatory and inaccurate reports, all of which, so far, omit my side of things.

I am utterly horrified to hear recently that the Church of England have, behind my back and against my wishes, violated my life and privacy, despite my warnings and pleas in the pretence of care, again. This is to cease from the instant you get this letter, and if I had not have my human rights violated repeatedly from Jersey onwards by Jane Fisher, I would have no police record and no severe psychological scarring from the brutalizations and imprisonments I have endured. You have made my life unlivable and handled me unjustly at all times, there is no excuse for any violation until my story is published and the defamatory and inaccurate reports withdrawn, and even then, help is only ever to be provided with my full consent and knowledge. Jane Fisher’s constant denial of my human rights has left me so deeply scarred that I will never feel safe again.

You do not, logically, carry out three investigations about me that exclude my side of things and humiliate and defame me and then claim any right to yet again violate my privacy and leave me terrified and humiliated and having no choice but to go on the run yet again.

I do not understand your latest stance of using the NSPCC to harass me but there is no possible reason for their involvement as I am neither a child nor a carer for a child.

Your production of the Steel report, when Dame Steel is conflicted and has produced an untruthful defamatory and inaccurate report to protect the Jersey clique has left me severely psychologically injured and with no hope at all for my future. There is only so much a human soul can take, and what you have inflicted on me solidly for eight months on top of what happened previously is more than any human being, let alone a disabled and injured homeless one, can take.

You, Bishop Tim Dakin, your safeguarding officer Jane Fisher, your staff and clergy are to immediately desist from this cruel and vicious onslaught on my life which began in March of this year and has continued without any relief and has left me desparate and deeply deeply depressed and hopeless. You will only ever be My Destroyers, you have never done anything to refute that title.

Among the damages to me in the last eight months alone are:defamation, loss of friends and support, activities, therapy, college, charity events, hope and quality of life, you have left me so desperate and hopeless and demoralized that even my best friends cannot help me and have been very concerned.

I cannot begin to imagine the reason behind your cruel, brutal and hostile onslaught into my life or your repeated production of reports and investigations that omit my side of things, what happened to me and what my true state of health is, instead you have omitted me from all reports and labelled me incorrectly as mentally ill, and have deliberately at all points omitted a complaint against your safeguarding officer, Jane Fisher, who has subjected me to constant severe psychological harm for years.

You are not to publish any further libel or distressing reports against me and you are to withdraw your damaging publications, you are not to threaten, harass or annoy me any further, nor are you to use anyone else or any other agency to harass me or deceive me further.

I have no wish to seek compensation but I will have to seek legal protection, and publicize it if your harassment of me doesn’t cease.

What should stand out glaringly in this is your have run this months-long campaign of hatred, destroyal and defamation against me, but you have consistently protected my abusers and their supporters and allowed them to defame and harm me while retaining a place in the church, while I have been left destitute, slandered, unable to seek help because of the record you have given me, and unable to trust because of the damage and defamation which has destroyed my trust and hope.

This letter is a warning, a legal letter of intent to seek legal protection in the absence of adequate police protection.

This letter is to be retained by all recipients, who are all connected to this case, for their records.

Sincerely,

Statement to BBC Jersey:

I would like to state that I am insulted and damaged by the Bishop's statement.

I have been severely damaged by the Diocese of Winchester and would not trust any help from them or anyone connected with them, they have never had my consent to arrange help and are again removing my autonomy and privacy by trying to force their agenda on me and not taking into acco unt my private life and the help I am already receiving or how wounding their violations of me are after the harm they did to me.

Dame Steel produced a report that omitted my side of things but included witness accounts of at least one person who has never met me and was not even there when I was in Jersey, the way the conflicted report has proceeded for months, omitting me and with the Diocese ignoring the conflict, has left me very ill, so I do not understand how the Bishop has the audacity to 'offer help', while he has absolved the wrongdoers and seriously harmed me.

No help will ever undo the harm done to me by the Diocese of Winchester, the severity and effects of the harm will limit my life and harm me until I die. 

His comments about 'called to help the lost, the last and the least' is plain ridiculous in light of what I have suffered at the hands of the Church of England.

The Bishop received a legal letter from me last week, warning him not to harass me further with intervention in my life. This legal letter is not the letter mentioned that has prevented him publishing Dame Steel's report.

Sincerely,

HG

October 30th 2011 -remember that I was severely traumatized while writing the last bit on 3/11/11, and although it is still true, I am resigned to my fate and slightly less despairing

Abuse takes the beauty out of beautiful scenery, it takes away smiles and laughter, it isolates people, it shames people, it takes hopes and bright futures. Abuse is bad, and so much abuse is denied at the expense of the victim.

Am I the bad person? my family aren't there for me, and the church condemn my life.
I feel so useless, I wish God would let my life end.

Part 1. Things are grim so let me be grim and share some sad and grim thoughts for a minute.

Because of my autistic background I think I absorbed what other people used to say sometimes and believed things I heard too readily.

 I grew up thinking I wasn’t going to live to be 16, my sister had said she didn’t believe she was going to live to be 16, and when she was 16 she said she didn’t know why she was still alive;
 she was suicidally depressed and she was my role model, so this impacted on me, I think I was suffering depression by the time I was 11, my mother also used to say some very odd things when I was young, she said the world was going to end in 2006, and I believed her and couldn’t see any point in planning for the future of imagining a career or marriage, because there wasn’t enough time in the world.

 I felt scared and helpless, but I plodded on with my education and college, carrying this fearful secret that the world was going to end and so there was no point in all the things that people do and take for granted. My mother also told me that there weren’t going to be any good men left to marry by the time I was old enough, and that the Bible had said that we were to emigrate to Israel one day, a country that would be far too hot for me and a very unsettled unsafe place to live;
 but my mum said maybe we would be the lucky ones who would be picking up the bodies on the battlefield, she expected us to fight in some sort of war for God in Israel.

so I entered adult life with little hope and many problems. Someone on the autistic spectrum needs settledness, peacefulness and a low arousal environment with as little change as possible, I have never known such an environment, in fact my life could not be further from these requirements, so it was a difficult task to try and learn to be ‘normal’ and to educate myself and learn to interact. I have learned that the ‘poverty trap’ doesn’t mean lack of money alone,

it means being stuck in circumstances beyond your control no matter how hard you try, and having to depend on other people, and suffering for it, suffering abuse and suffering shame and being shamed, because you are slated for not doing better, for relying on others in your poverty and sometimes having to rely on the wrong people, and the only people who do understand that it is not about being a sponger, a scrounger, an opportunist, are the other people who have also been down this well, and know the shame of it, and who know that you can try your very hardest to climb the well and you get to a point when you fall down again, poor background, disability and no access to essential educational and medical services are something it takes a lifetime to overcome sometimes.
 Unless you marry  or partner someone with a better background, unless you do have fairytale lucky breaks, and everything turns out right, sadly I tried very very hard to overcome things, educate myself and get the help I needed, but in the end traumatised and breaking down, I was condemned, by the very church where I suffered both abuse ignorant handling and was left broken, there is no way out of the trap now, I am lower than those who can get a council house in W. or S. and call it home and subsist on benefits, they couldn’t aspire to live like the people of L. or O., The Island or The Bishop’s Palace, but in main they are content to have a home and sit in the library of daycentre and chat about life, I cannot sit and chat, I am alone and condemned, so I thought I would share the second chapter of my life, my efforts to grow into an adult and heal myself and gain some quality of life.
 Because no one had heard any of my story until recently and I had never been able to verbalise it.

From what I have experienced at the hands of the church as a vulnerable adult, there is nowhere less Christian and less understanding of poverty and need than the church, the congregations of wealthy, often older, middle class have never experienced hardship and have no empathy for it.
The same denomination is causing confusion now by trying to ordain younger and younger priests and rip the pews out while slating anyone who objects to this sudden and violent change, but that is another subject for another day.

03/11/12

I remember being a young child and being scared and abused, seeing violence and feeling harsh punishments, I remember being on the move all the time, I remember the hostile press and the hysteria, I remember the violence and hostility, I remember my sister being assaulted, the violence in the hostel, the nightmare of the small house and trying to go to school aged 8 and not fitting in, the endless moving on, the hardship, the anger, the violence, the depression, the crazy religeon, the homelessness, the shame and poverty and ragged clothes, the missing out on all the good things, the escape from the family and attempt to sort myself out and do better, the struggles, the failures, the abuse, the condemnation of the church, the destroyal of what I ha tried to build of a life, and the shame as the church continued to harm me after destroying me, and how they blamed me for reacting and denied responsibility.
what hope is there? that is thirty years of fighting against the tide, all the good ambitions I had, honest hard work, hope for healing and a good safe home and family is gone, my career and home and everything I lived for, and the little bit of quality of life that I gained, are gone, there is nothing, and no way of rebuilding it. I cannot live indoors or remove the terrible one sided story that the church have placed there, the bad record they have given me, I am helpless and lost and too damaged to ever heal.

Today's post

Good afternoon.
well I am just waiting to see if I can get a physio appointment before Christmas, unlikely but worth a try, less pain and better mobility would be a good Christmas present.

This morning was charity stuff, someone kindly gave me a lift up the hill with a heavy load of goods for the charity depot.
And then I was being roped into all sorts of things, including a street collection on Friday, which I technically shouldn't do, because of the pain, but I will.

I am going to rest, as I have a busy evening and tomorrow is a busy day when I change location, and I will be online less then, and over Christmas.

more comparisons

29/10/2011:

more comparisons:

Jesus was born in poverty and without a proper home,
so was I,
most people in the churches where I was hurt were born into comfortable homes

Jesus was born  to his parents alone with no medical help, so was I,
the church people have pictures of mothers and babies in hospitals
that is all they know,

what is Christening? Jesus was baptised as an adult without the frills and showers of gifts that the church Christenings demand and the wealthy who have destroyed me take for granted, I was baptised as an adult by someone who emotionally harmed me, with a witness who sexually abused me, and with two other witnesses who upheld them, my baptism was rushed because of their hurry to have me confirmed into the church,
my baptism wasn't the big family occasion with gifts and a party and drinking and dancing, neither was Jesus's, but probably without exception, the party and gifts were what the people in the church had for their baptisms and their children's baptisms.

29/10/2011:

God bless everyone in the world.

I remember on the island when one of the priests said about someone saying we should even pray for the extremists and mass murderers of a certain faith, some of the people muttered about it.
Yes, it is hard for me to pray for the people who have personally harmed me, and no doubt my abusers and their supporters pray for me for show.
But I can understand praying for people who want to harm people, praying that they will repent and see a better way of doing things.

Now I have launched into this controversial subject, I am going to stop talking in case I cause outcry.

posting from homeless October 2011

19/10/2011

There are things I try not to think about:

abuse
things said and done
my lack of car and driving licence and how the church took both
my lack of bank account, also gone because of the church making me homeless
the terrible things that the church have said and done and denied
the lack of money and lack of future
the fact that the people who have hurt me and the people who have supported the hurters have got away with it
Dad's death
Anne's death - my friend who died after the diocese had driven a wedge between me and her
what G.P. has done - G.P was a close friend of my Dad and family, and last year he was arrested on child kidnap and porn charges, and there is no doubt he did those things but I hadn't known he was that kind of guy, neither had my Dad, I think other members of the family did. (G.P. was a close family friend who was arrested while the Diocese were destroying me). he abused my younger sister.
my family
my background
the millions of repercussions from what the church have done to me
how useless and ashamed and worthless I am, especially with the church labels
Thats enough for now.

20/10/2011

I know someone who tells me she was satanically abused in the church of England.
The problem is that she has mental health problems, problems get labels from Borderline personality disorder to paranoid schitzophrenia. She threatens violence and does very severe things, she is into druidism and spells.

The problem for me is that I know what it is like to be disbelieved, I know what it is like to be labelled insane, and for all I know, her behaviour could be because of the abuse, as my own wild anger and bizarre responses to the pressure from the church was, I am declared free from serious mental illness though, and I don't threaten lives.
what should I do? believe her? It is hard to get any solid consistant details from her, or worry that I am feeding a fantasy if I support her?

21/10/2011

can I just share some things before I have to log off and go out into the cold?

some of the things that hurt and distress me every day (and this is the very tip of the iceberg)

The way church leaders lied and protected my abusers

The way I was called wicked and malicious and a troublemaker and a liar by the church

The way that the church brought false accusations against me rather than accept any responsibility for their actions and behaviours, the way they blamed and criminalised me.

The way they took my whole life from me and pretended that they were only caring and concerned, and made me out to be insane.

That is all I have time to write today, I am now going out into the cold dark world that I live and sleep in.


22/11/2011

I am trying to write about what has happened to me in order, but sometimes I want to get the terrible things that have been said and done out of my head.

Can I share some things with you in order to help me sleep better?

The person who was supposed to investigate and deal with my complaint of abuse told me that my abusers were 'just Christians who got things wrong', and yet the church leader called me wicked for reporting his friend for abuse.

After the church destroyed me, I managed to re-settle in a new church, until the diocese contacted them and 'told them about me', and the priest came and shouted at me and said he had 'heard about me and what I had done', he had not heard about what I had been through though and when I spoke about it he said he 'couldn't comment because he didn't know anything about it'.
My abusers were not bad mouthed and blackened this way, they were told they were innocent by their friend, the church leader who got away with trying to close my complaint and support them and blacken my name.
My abusers were both accused previous to abusing me, one of abusing his own daughter and one of misconduct in a pastoral care role in a previous church that led to him being sacked from that role, and yet both these men were in positions in the church where they were able to prey on me.

preying, a speciality of the church. A place where vulnerable people go to seek shelter, and a place where abusers go to find vulnerable people and to gain power

Despair 25/10/2011:

I am reminded of how much the church have restricted and damaged me, and it breaks my heart and leaves me in despair.
I am reminded of how I smell homeless and it makes me sad.

I am reminded of the times when I sat in the college chapel, trying to teach myself grammar from a little book before class, my grammar isn't too good, but I am not sure why, I think maybe my eagerness to talk means I do long convoluted and sometimes slightly confused sentences with too many colons and not enough full stops or semi-colons.

My book that I am looking at in between blogs is called 'Louder than Words', it is about a boy with autism and how his mother tries to get help for him.

I am about to continue the London blog, but some of this is cut and pasted from where I have written it elsewhere, so it may be in a slightly different style.

posting from 'Homeless' continued

Good evening, I have achieved a lot in the last few days, but I am very tired.

Just thinking about the church of england's patent cure for Autism, trauma and abuse, I don't think brutality, cover-ups and destroying someone will ever be recommended by NICE. No, it didn't make me do things the way the church wanted.

We are copying off the homeless blog tonight, but be aware that when I do ***** etc, that is hiding a name rather than swearing, if I copy direct and do not edit much, then ***** will appear a lot.

I must just remind you that 'The Wanderer' is my day to day homeless blog and 'Homeless' is the historic blog that was split from 'The Wanderer' as the two together was a very big blog.

I will have to be careful not to swamp you with information from 'homeless' as there is an awful lot, and I was just looking at it, spoilt for choice as to what to transfer while I get the energy to transfer the serious stuff.

This was written on 29/10/2011:

a short version of an ongoing poem of comparisons

who are these people who abused you?
Christians?
well a Christian is a follower of Christ,
and did he abuse or advocate it?

who are these people who called you mad?
Christians?
did Jesus condemn madness and use it to cover his tracks?
did he wrongly accuse anyone as madness?
no, he helped legion and didn't blame him

Who are these people who called you wicked, a liar, mad and all those other terrible things?
Christians?
when did Jesus do this? when did he advocate it? Never, it was done to Him
these people who have done these things are covering up their own wrongdoing
at such a price to the one they do it to
just as they did to Jesus when He shamed them

who are these people, in their big houses and so surrounded by wealth and good
that they have no understanding of poverty and pain? and yet for show they claim to help the poor?
Christians?
Jesus was homeless and had nothing,
he was scorned  and crucified by the people who claimed to be teachers of God's law
think about that and think about who is writing this

Jesus died in pain and agony, who are these people who suffer nothing and live in luxury?
Christians?
did Jesus work in an organization that puts out it's hands for money, hires out it's places of worship for money and lives behind lawyers, advisers and safeguarding?
Jesus turned the tables over in the temple in anger
but the church conveniently erases that, interprets that as they like
and despises and looks down on people like me, who struggle to build a better life out of poverty

The unforgiving church destroyed me for my distress and speaking out
are these people Christians?
Jesus taught forgiveness but the church in the strong position preferred harsh punishments
just as they had Jesus crucified thousands of years ago.
just as they crucified me, though I am no-one, just a thorn in their side


Posted 18/11/2012, please note, the adoptive mother and violent husband are JM and her husband, not the church warden couple.
The stupor I lived in was a real dissociative trance that kept me alive at that time, a year after leaving Jersey and very severely traumatized. Too traumatized for any therapy to work, it was being on the streets and beyond the Diocese that kept me alive

Tuesday, 18 October 2011

memories

Memories:

Every day is full is memories, I try not to let it be, I live in a stupor where memories are not allowed, but they break through anyway, flashes of memories, memories of my brothers tormenting me, my sister sneering at me from her position of a year older than me and not autistic, memories of the endless trauma and violence and abuse and stress of our childhood on the move and outcast from society, memories, memories,
 memories of the beautiful fields of my home county and the wonderful agricultural and horticultural work that I did, memories of being cuddled into my adoptive mother's arms, and her jealous husband's violent temper and abuse of me, memories of my efforts to be a good and useful person in the community and the church,
memories of my former counsellor, the steadiest and most insightful and kind person I have met, memories of struggles to look after myself and make ends meet, and my failures and debts, memories of being back in college and back to working on farms, memories of the days when I began to see a future, memories of the sea and the boats and being surrounded by friends and beginning to have quality of life, memories of abuse and collapse and the whole world going dark, the memories I try hardest to drown out, the memories that are hardest to drown out.

please save me I am falling here, I am lost and alone.

today's post

Good afternoon.
Well it's Tuesday so I have been to see me pals. Tuesday morning is all about seeing me pals, it is to socialize me, I go up there, sit in my corner, read the paper and listen to everyone talk. That is a great way of socializing. :)
They stop me drinking coffee after about 7 cups, for the safety and welfare of the town :):):)

I was given a shoe box today, no shoes in it, just lots of nice girly things like toiletries and makeup, I am allergic to make up but I can use it to draw pictures :)
It is nice to have a Christmas present, I was also given a Christmas goodies parcel :)

I now have to go into town to do my paperwork and letters. I will continue to transfer information from the homeless blog to this one, so watch out those of you who want to know the truth, written in 2011 and 2012 as I hid from the Diocese :)

I found a post on 'Homeless' that I was looking for in response to Tony's request, and I found a few other posts too -posted 7th January 2012

Happy Memories of my life as an adult:

• College practicals out in the fields or woods
• the beautiful landscapes that I have seen, especially after I left the ghettos
• early morning newspaper delivering or early morning milking
• running a mini marathon with no training or preparation and in work clothes and doing a good time
• helping with college open days
• roaming around
• my Winchester before all the poison from the diocese made it a hostile town
• the carnival and bonfire in Winchester over the years
• rolling down the snowy bank in the recreation ground with the dog
• wonderful work with sheep
• the amazing gardening work that I have done
• friends
• the first two years away from home when I lodged in Winchester with my friends
• the wonderful daytrips and meals out I have had
• My 18th Birthday that the farm staff made special even though my family forgot
• All the work I have ever done
• the youth group in ******* and how they helped me to develop and feel more worthwhile and the lovely days out and meals and services we had.
• The years of joyful love and worship of God and fellowship before the grim island churches destroyed me and my blind faith.
• The good old friends
• the years when I could run and jump
• my friendship with JM, which is all invalidated by her blame of me and defence of the abusers
• All the many parties, fundraisers and volunteer events that I helped with, especially the Village show.
•  two boyfriends, G. and Chris.
• The motorbike
• working in West Sussex in those fantastic gardens
• swimming in friends' swimming pools in Winchester
• the daytrips and special times with Mind when I was younger and referred myself to them for the social side of things
• My safe cozy bedsit in Andover
• Passing my test and driving my own car
• Ice skating
• my pets
• Being told that I was autistic spectrum and the relief it brough to be told that at last.
• Finding out that most of my family were on the Autistic spectrum and had problems
• finding my sister who I had lost touch with her for so long
• my tied cottages and doing the garden with Ted
• Trying to run my own business
• Being able to help with church events and services
• going back to college as a mature student
•  trips to the islands
• moving to the islands
• being adopted
• my visit to england just before my first christmas on the island
• sailing and watersports
• low water fishing and cooking the catch
• marshalling for the carnival
• all the wonderful volunteer work on the island
• dog walking and playing with the rescue dogs
• photography on the island
• all the activities and sports I took part in on the island
• happy times at St. C's before the brute safeguarding official ruined it
• A friendship on the island
• winning the sailing award
• buying my little boat
• signing choir

Things I like

• The railway
• helping people
• hugs with close friends
• strong soap and laundry smells
• a soft bed
• friendship
• toys
• candles
• being clean
• sleeping well
• being full
• good bin raids
• being understood
• jewellery
• rain, wind, snow, fog, frost
• night time
• fast journeys in any vehicle
• animals
• baths and showers
• good movies
• sanctuary
• swimming
• the sea (but I can't think about it or go near it without getting upset)
• solitude
• sports (that I can no longer do)
• travelling
• kindness and gifts
• samaritans
• flowers
• jokes
• hills and mountains
• work

Losses from having to leave The Island

• Livelihood, career and job, forever
• Clean record
• All volunteer work
• Health
• Home, in all ways possible
• Boat, sea, sailing, rocks, cliffs, sea, sailing friends and qualifications
• Friends
• College and exams
• All posessions, qualifications and identity apart from a non-english passport
• car and driving licence
• future
• routine and settled familiarity
• kayak
• love and respect of friends and colleagues
• usefulness
• hope
• trust
• faith
• dignity
• bank account - probably forever
• money
• purpose in life
• self worth/esteem/belief - which was always low
• faith in people
• ability - physical and mental

Everything

Triggers/things and words that cause flashbacks

• police
• anything military
• sea
• boats
• mental illness
• old friends
• names
• songs of praise
• church
• prison
• surfing
• children
• indications of wealth
• nightmares, dreams, memories
• driving licence/car
• reminders of what people have said and done
• 'adoptive/adoption'
• holidays and special days
• any brutality or abuse

29/12/2011

Thursday, 29 December 2011

Imagine what it is like to be told by a supporter of your abuser that you haven't been abused, imagine what it is like to be told that you do this to everyone and that you are the trouble, imagine what it is like when your abuser's supporter is the dean and he  lies to the court and says you turned up at his house screaming and shouting as he succesfully has you thrown in prison and convicted with the full help and support of the Bishop and the safeguarding officer who have allowed him to continue to be involved despite his bias and friendship with the abuser and the Bishop denies the friendship and claims that the dean has 'enforced the restrictions on the abuser' when he obviously hasn't.
Imagine what it is like for a church abuse victim in a small community where the church are on the abuser's side and the diocese on the mainland simply deny it all and smash the victim down and judge her on things they have only heard the other side of, not the abuse victim's side.

And if you can't imagine that, have you read this blog from the beginning?

Historic posts continued, written 29/12/2011 The Bishop I am talking about is Bishop Scott-Joynt

Inspired to look for posts about happiness, I looked 
On my old homeless blog, a very dense and messy
blog, written from 2011 - 2012 and containing my
full story but very jumbled. I am going to start
transferring posts from it to this blog.


Thursday, 29 December 2011

psychology

For so long now and especially in the times when I have nowhere to go and nothing to do, the memories of how the church have battered my name and reputation to defend thier own has been overwhelming me and making me feel so small, so useless, the flashbacks to the way the police treated me are always there and intermingled with the things that the church have said.
But why, why is an organization like the church allowed to let individuals, mainly with dog collars or close to people with dog collars gang up and condemn an abuse survivor so utterly and not be held accountable for their own actions that leave that survivor suffering in hell?!

I have made a doctor's appointment and I want a psychological asessment by hook or by crook, I want to know how old I am mentally, what the regression and the subsequent actions have actually done to me, and I want to know what else may be wrong, I have never been opposed to having help but it has always been an impossible fight to get it and the added contempt of what the Bishop said about me in a court statement was that 'it is all my problems and nothing to do with the church and he 'hopes I get the help I need'', what he said is an outright lie and would be enough to make me never seek help, but as you know, I still go to church, condemned and despairing, I still go, and there is no way the Bishop can make me responsible for two men in his employ and on his property who had both been accused previously, who both abused me, the second of whom regressed me to childlikeness and left me that way out of control and back in my own hellish childhood while he messed with me and was rebuffed and then denied any responsibility and was backed up by the island churches and clergy for years while the diocese refused to help me and beat me down with criticism and what they heard, one sided stories from Juliet who they allowed to be involved in the island matter and allowed her and the abuser in the island and his supporters to work together.
My fault?
Well, no, but who hears me when the bigger voice of the church and Bishop have all the say and I have none?!
My fault that on my return from the island to England the church continued to intervene and seriously harm me and I was unable to seek any help or get anyone to withdraw them,  and my anger, trauma and pain in return caused the church to have me arrested again?!
How can it be?
And Yet I am the one who is left vulnerable to the filthy record the church have given me and there is no one to change that and no way that I can ever rebuild my life like this, even if I was fit to work I will never be able to get a job, never be able to explain to an employer, never be able to get back to living indoors because of the vulnerability I would feel and the terror and distress and the impossibility of the processes or costs to get indoors, and what would be the point, I survive by staying outdoors, indoors is where I was when I was employed and not a criminal and could study and go to places and live, while I can no longer do those things and have been so invalidated I have no use for indoors and the increased flashbacks and distress and vulnerability it brings.

former readers of 'Homeless' will remember this from December 3rd 2011

Saturday, 3 December 2011

the bewilderment of survivors

These church leaders are supposed to lead us
as we walk with The Lord
so where is their leadership in their denial
and their turning away from the Word

These priests are supposed to shepherd us
and keep us safe in God and truth
so why are they allowed to abuse and lie
and be above the law and aloof

They are human, not Gods
they should not escape
and be able to please themselves
and abuse and rape

No! rather their lofty positions
should mete out greater punishment for wrong
than the rest of the populaion

because when a priest abuses
it is the worst form of abuse
because of the spiritual damage
it does to those they use

we are all human! is the cry of the church in denial
but if someone is consecrated to God
and abuses or aids an abuser
then they are worse than any other abuser
Not 'qualified to escape punishment because of their postion'
They should not be protected by the church, they should not be able to stand
and see their victim destroyed by church policy
they should receive the greatest punishment for doing the unthinkable to the little lambs in their flock

Posted on 'Homeless' on 29/11/2011 as I began to interact with other survivors and share their stories

As I continue to write the blog and get feedback, I find more and more that I am not alone, I know now that I am not the only one to be called bad names and labelled, I am not the only one to be damaged by being maligned in the church grapevine, not the only one who had problems seeing the abuser wherever they went, not the only one to be called a scrounger and wrongly accused, not the only one to be vulnerable because of family problems and thus left open to abuse, and not the only one who has suffered well off church people making me feel small and worthless and telling me that myself and my reactions are to blame, I am not the only one to have suffered homelessness as a result of abuse, and I am not the only one to be subjected to blatant lies at the hands of the church.
Yes, we are all human and sinful, and this is one of many church excuses, but people ordained and 'called' to positions of power in the church should be able to act accordingly and not abuse or behave in a damaging way towards vulnerable people, because in such positions those people don't have an excuse for such extreme sin, indeed it is not excusable in anyone to deliberately inflict such harm.
I hope that that makes sense, I just feel like exploding the church's excuses.

Think about this: The church tried to tell me that my abuser (who had previously been accused of misconduct and sacked from another church) was 'just a Christian who got things wrong'. In contrast other church leaders and clergy called me wicked, malicious and a troublemaker.
This says that the church consider my disability and reactions to the abuse and church attitude to be worse than the abuse, and they have enforced that by preventing me being able to take civil legal action against my abuser while they had me arrested.

answer to request -happy memories, written 25/11/2011

Well, having been asked about happy memories, I have just been looking at my old 'Homeless' blog, which is offline. 'Homeless' actually contains my full story, but would confuse you a lot because all names and place names were changed because it was written in 2011, before I knew about the Jersey bloggers, and when I was living in fear of the diocese of Winchester and was on the run.
This post was written on 25/11/2011. It is not the post I was looking for for Tony, but there are a lot of other posts on homeless that I am now browsing, which I will transfer in order to tell my story, but I will have to make sure you can understand it as I changed all names and place names and will have to change them back.
This post was written in it's entirety on November 25th 2011 while I was on the run from the Diocese of Winchester, I have not altered it apart from changing names back to originals and correcting spelling mistakes. 
There are a few readers of this blog who used to read 'homeless', until it came offline in 2012, and who will recognize this post and others that I will be posting from homeless from now on.

25/11/1:

 I thought I would try to write some of the good side of the island very briefly. 
The island was an escape from some of JM's  control over my life and influence on me (until she re-involved herself in support of my abuser),  when I arrived in the island it was a new adventure for me with none of my old friends nearby to support me, I had to completely stand on my own two feet when I went to the Island, there is no welfare benefit system there for non-natives, so I was going to make it work by working and not letting depression or anything else get in the way. 

The island offered such a variety of activities, miles of dunes and beaches and heathlands for walking, running, climbing, miles of sea for swimming, learning to surf, learning to sail, jetski, water-ski, kayak, I could rock climb, I could sit out on the rocks and enjoy the sea and spray and freedom, for the first time in my life I had quality of life. I managed to start doing some watersports when my Employer at the Horticultural Nursery gave me a ticket that allowed me to visit island attractions for free and access free and half price activities such as watersports, and all I wanted was to be near the sea, out on the sea, interacting with the sea.
One of my most memorable sea days was when I was on a guard boat for the rowing races between the islands, there was just me and the skipper and we were looking after a two man rowing team, all the way between the islands there were thousands of jellyfish, thousands, of all shapes and sizes, it was lucky that the sea was fairly calm and no-one ended up in the water, it was a long hot day but I was proud to be second in command of a guard boat.

I remember the surf instuctor asking me if I had asthma or a heart problem when I was learning to surf, because I couldn't easily run and do the warm up exercises for my surf lesson, but back then I didn't know I had asthma, so I said that maybe I was just tired from helping the church move heavy furniture all morning, something that  St A's church deigned to let me do though they wouldn't normally let a mere woman be involved, because a good kind man there believed in me and my ability, (he is now dead), though my abuser kept up a stream of sexist comments and kept assuring me that I wasn't as strong as him (male insecurity oh dear oh dear, he was like that.).

The island had many attractions that I enjoyed visiting, the castles and forts and ancient tombs and defences. leisure parks and museums, I loved these places, history became fascinating to me. 

Also in the time I was on the island I tried all sorts of new things and became involved, the island was very well equipped, there was a college where I took courses, short courses in dealing with my neck pain and longer courses in languages, I also put myself in for IGCSE exams there to continue to make up for my lost school years and spent many happyish and occupied hours studying for my exams. The island also had a very well equipped leisure centre that was at the top of a cliff overlooking the harbour, I spent many happy hours up there playing badminton with the club and enjoying the jokes and laughter, learning karate (where my problematic hip was noticable again), and looking at other possible activities to take part in. And also just standing at the edge of the cliff looking at the harbour and watching ships and vessels come and go, the ships were a fascination to me, and I used to track their movements all the time and watch them dock and sail, I even tracked them on the computer on the AIS trackers, I loved the ships.  This is an example of an AIS tracker http://www.shipais.com/currentmap.php?map=portsmouth


I ended up swapping karate for football on a pitch near the airport and being autistically distracted sometimes by the airoplanes coming to land. Karate was great but I had always wanted to play football and the stretches and physical contact in karate were potentially going to be too much for me, even though I really really liked the people, the other thing was the almost 'religeous' side of karate, that I could hear my dad's voice condemning, I know he would have hated me doing it. My 'abusers' were also against it but thats because they said it was violence. 

That reminds me, I actually started to going to karate to avoid an activity that the adoptive parents/abusers got me into, indoor bowls, bowls itself I had nothing against, I used to like watching A&R playing carpet bowls, and sometimes I had a go, I also liked skittle bowling, and carpet bowls was fun, but the slipway church people who were there were not all ok people, I didn't want to see them, they were close to my abuser and he always had control of me when I was there and I was treated in a patronizing and prejudiced manner, and so I escaped and started doing karate instead.

There was so much by way of cliff path and coast path to walk on the island, so many miles of beach to run and walk on, and so many challenging and risky cliffs to climb. I also liked going to the port to watch the ferries and walk the harbour walls.

The island had a historic working farm and a maritime museum that I loved, and miles of woods and country lanes and reservoirs to walk through and enjoy.The ticket my employer gave me when i arrived in the island allowed me to visit most of the historic attractions free of charge, and I really enjoyed that. 

I started learning to sail with my adoptive dad, but continued with sailing courses and sailing clubs that cost me almost nothing and were nothing to do with him. Sailing became a passion for me, a quality of life that I had never dreamed I would enjoy, and in the end I had my own little boat as well as being very involved in the sailing club and doing boat maintenance, racing and sailing distances to the other islands and the nearest mainland which was not England. 

(the main reason I studied languages at college on the island was so that I could speak the language of the mainland when I went there, it was a purposeful thing that means here back in England I have no reason to learn languages, my dreams so shattered that there is no point. The island had it's own language or dialect and I learned some of that and was also going to study that at college.

I also had opportunities to sail on tall ships, and when I was forced to leave the island it was at a time when I had been given full funding by a charity for a full length tall ship voyage, I never had that voyage, I never will now. 

I helped out with the boat shows and worked hard to ensure that people were made aware of the sailing charity that I belonged to that allowed me to sail cheaply, I loved the people in the charity, we had such fun together and every saturday I would leap out of bed early and hurry to join them for breakfast before we went dinghy racing or cruising the yacht or if the weather or tide forbade sailing we had a great time on boat maintenance, or if it was a weekend for sailing over to the nearest mainland or the other islands we would often meet on Friday night and set sail with the tide. This quality of life after years of struggle made it seem as if all the struggles had finally come to something good, but there in the background was the abuse and the repercussions of the abuse and reporting the abuse, I never healed and I was never free from the matter or the way I was treated because of it.

The island was rich and full of entertainment, there were always events, fairs, carnivals and shows on, the arts and theatre side of the island was strong, I was trained as a volunteer steward at one of the art and film centres (the most nervous and quiet steward you could hope to find), and also acted as a marshall for the island's carnival (again, the most nervous and quiet marshall you could find, but amazingly, just as at the Village show, I could do this kind of work and I loved it, deeply stressful as it was).

The other main event in the island each year was the air display day, where wonderful and historical airoplanes flew over the bay and did their tricks in front of fascinated crowds on the coast road, a lot of people would have a half day to watch the display as they did on carnival day, but my air display days were ruined from the start by my abuser playing mind games with me at that first air display day, and also the abuser's wife's boasts about her son in the RAF, I associated air display day with my abusers and the way they hurt me and the way the wife looked down on me. I also never had a role helping out with air display day as all the local cadets were involved in the volunteer roles.

Photography was another of my new hobbies, starting with taking pictures for my friends in England, the Island was so photogenic and beautiful that I took so many pictures, (sad to say they are all lost now). I had pictures of the islands landscapes and seascapes and cliffs and rocks, but also pictures from the boats, pictures of dolphins and seals, pictures of other boats and ships, pictures from the tall ships, pictures of the other islands, I spent hours on this quiet hobby, and it was so relaxing and such fun.

I also got into low water fishing, my landlord at the time was a native islander and an ex-army chef, he took me low water fishing and taught me how to do it, it was a wonderful experience and he would cook the catch when we got home and he was a good chef indeed, when he decided to leave the island and told me that the only thing he would miss was the low water fishing, I took to fishing on my own, out there on the low of the vast spring tide, the cold empty desert of sand and reefs, it was magic. I don't blame him for leaving a corrupt and troubled island though, he said the only thing he would miss was the low water fishing. He was island born and had spent his whole life there, at the time I could only imagine that if that was me I would have been heartbroken to leave the sea and the sand and the rocks and cliffs and all the new quality of life I had, we lived right by the sea and I would walk down there in the morning and evening to meet the tide and to run.

I had to run when I was in the TA, how I managed to get in the TA and stay in so long I don't know, physically and mentally I was never fit for it, I was in during the worst of the church problems and as the asthma and my legs got worse, and yet I managed to pass CFTs and keep running and communicating enough to interact with the others, I managed to keep ironing 

Before the island though I had many interests and many things I wanted to do, I had little opportunity to do as much as I did here. 
On the island my volunteer work also stepped up a gear, with work for two Romania aid charities, marshalling and stewarding for events, work for a horse rescue charity and a dog rescue centre (dog walking), conservation volunteer work (ironically for BBC springwatch after the terrible way the BBC treated me over the abuse case), work for the Autistic Society (mainly counting money, helping out the back of the charity shop or stewarding at events), helping with a charity that provided support to parents of poorly children, there were always things to help out with, and I loved helping out, just as I did in England. But my biggest role was a more official role for the Stroke association, this came about after my dad was taken ill and died, and I contacted the stroke association in England to learn about strokes and what had happened to my dad, they put me in touch with the Island stroke association and I became an information volunteer, delivering and distributing information about strokes, and enabling people to access information, I had to be enhanced CRB checked to do this, and I had a clean record, but the role didn't last long as the church's actions left me in a breakdown and with no car as later on before I had to leave the island. I was also due to take part in a marathon for the stroke association during the time the church crippled me and I am left guilty of letting the stroke association down, but on the good  side I managed to get them free walking frames and sticks that were surplus from where I worked then, and managed to use my role to put someone in touch with them who didn't know about them and was in a bad way. If nothing had gone wrong in my life my role would have expanded so I would have been a befriender to stroke patients, possibly those at my workplace. I can't start thinking about everything I have lost, it is too much.

Life was busy once I got into all these activities, but the church and the problems were always in the background and my depression and despair meant that sometimes I had to have time out from my activities.

I was so proud when I started playing football, a dream that had never been realised, the football team were all tough girls, most of whom had played for years, but I loved football, though my undiagnosed disabilities really showed sometimes, to me at least, the asthma that meant I was always out of breath, and the leg problems that made running hard and painful. But I was so proud when I bought my own pair of football boots, so proud to have them in my shoe tray and wash them in soapy water after a game.

I got my own kayak towards the end, something I had always wanted, my abuser's wife always boasted about kayaking, and I was hopeful of doing my kayak courses, not because of her, but because I loved being out on the water and a lot of my sailing club and charity friends often spoke of kayaking and their kayaks, and I thought that anything that helped my nautical competence was good, and I wanted to explore the cliffs and caves that my abuser's wife used to go on about. Sadly again I never got far with kayaking due to the church's actions that lost me my home.

There was so much more I wanted and intended to do as my life collapsed in ruins and I had to leave the island, I wanted to scuba dive and was invited to, I wanted to join the rowing club, I wanted to do so many things, it was a whole new world of things to do after simply struggling for all those years, I was alive at last, and I thought that maybe God was making up for some of the bad and the loss in my life, but in reality the background church problems and my health were suffering.
In my last months in the island, as well as being awarded a full bursary for tall ships sailing, I also won a rather special sailing award that would allow me to continue my sailing qualifications. This award was special in that it was fiercely competed for and went to sailors with real ambition, competitive sailers, usually young people, in my case my application didn't win the main award but was granted an extra special second award, and I was delighted to be looking forward to continuing my sailing training, I was photographed in the press and asked to give interviews and I had very scared and got controlling messages from the church safeguarding officer asking why I was interacting with the press, I think she anticipated having to do another damaging press cover up because she thought it was about the church, and so she left me feeling scared of what the church would do to me over the award and press coverage, but surprisingly the BBC who had damaged me so much in the church cover up simply phoned and left a message asking to interview me over the award, I put a metaphorical finger or two up to them and didn't phone back, my picture was in the paper and the church muttered about it. But when it came to the time of me using the award for my sailing, I was physically and mentally too broken, I was not strong or alert enough to handle the same boat that I had sailed so often on my previous courses and I nearly drowned when the boat capsized and I couldn't right it as I had done so often before, and this was in the last days, so my sailing became impossible and I had to give up. My room remained full of sailing and knot tying books, and I had my own little dinghy which I bought cheaply and repaired, and I had a book on the type of dinghy that I had, signed by the author, I was proud of my little boat and my hopeful future with it. I remember books everywhere in my room, boat books, education books for the exams I was studying and the courses I was doing, sign language books, language books, exam revision books, I loved my books, I loved coming home from work and running a bath and climbing into the bath with a  book, before I lost my laptop in a suicide attempt due to the church, I used to put my laptop on after bath and start studying languages, music, sailing theory, and all sorts of interesting things, as well as chatting with my international friends who helped me with my language and were easier friends than those I had to struggle to communicate with face to face.

Another deeply wonderful thing I got to do on the island was to be part of a sign language choir. Earlier in my story of 17+ I studied sign language because my receptive dysphasia could seem like deafness and I thought signing might help, now here I was given an opportunity to practice sign language with a signing choir who led church services for deaf people and took part in church services for deaf and hearning people, I loved my kind signing choir, they were accepting because half of them were deaf and knew what communication disabilities were like, so my autism was ok, they all had a sense of humour, they all loved the real God, not the cult God. We had such fun, and some of us were going to college to learn sign language as well as doing it just as a choir, I was preparing to return to college and re-study sign language and get a higher level, our leader was profoundly deaf, born that way, and she taught us to sign songs, she also taught music and piano, which is amazing, and at last I was going to have the opportunity to learn music and piano properly. I tried so hard to teach myself, but it was difficult to change my one handed playing by ear into two handed music reading playing, I had so much music and song inside me that I had always wanted to express musically, and I got myself a keyboard and some CD-Roms and tried to teach myself as best I could, and I was going to be able to learn properly because of our signing choir leader. I figured that in a way, now that I was going to learn piano properly and I was getting to do my GCSE's, I was almost as good as (George and Jill's) privately schooled grandchildren with their piano lessons and top grade grades that were always told to me in detail. Maybe if this went on I would almost be good enough for the wealthy church people and everything they flung in my face about their quality of life.
But sadly again, this was coming towards the end of my time in the Island, and I would never be good enough, the church destroyed me and everything I tried so hard for, forever.

It was all this good, this quality of life that made me try to stay on the island, and I loved the island, the beauty of it as an island ( the cult and corruption side of the island people was not beautiful). I thought that God had finally sent me some quality of life, but I didn't understand the badness of the church side of things at all.

I also loved the job and work that I finally got, the best job I ever had, but in the end the church took that from me as horribly and humiliatingly as they took everything.

The only good thing about the church was that I made a good friend, who was also taken away by the church action. I met her through housegroup, when I used to go to a housegroup connected with the cult church, crazily I used to go to a housegroup run by the daughter of one of my abuser's friends, the island magistrate who became the home affairs minister, he was a church reader as well, I had no chance of getting anything done about the church and my abuser, especially as the diocese and safeguarding officer in England refused to believe that the abuser was supported by power or that I was suffering from it, England and the corrupt circles in the island are so separate that someone in England cannot comprehend this, and they denied it. Anyway, back to my friend, she was a Christian, she was invited to housegroup and I met her there, I made her a cup of tea, because my duty at housegroup was to help with refreshments, and she and I got on well, we became friends who would go out to movies and for meals and hot chocolate, and we would go back to her flat to watch DVDs and have snacks and fun, she would encourage me to keep going to church, even to the cult church with her, late on, but it would send me into distress. I never got to say goodbye to her, she had just lost her job and I think she lost it because of Island cliques and ways, she couldn't even talk about it, but she was a good honest well-educated person and there seems no reason at all for her to suddenly be sacked.
I got to know and be friendly with other people on the island but my friend was the closest of them, she was happy to act like a kid and mess around, I relaxed and had fun when I was with her, but she seemed lost and unhappy like me in the end before I went.

Everything I have written here is all gone forever, I will never be fit for work or sport again, I will never be allowed to do volunteer work again, I will never have any reason to try and study and learn again, I live on the streets with a backpack.  I never made the grade for the rich and privilaged church people who put me down and sneered at my lack of posessions and abilities, I never got myself up to their standards even though what they do and say is not Christian and the abuse and lies and corruption are wrong and I don't want to be good enough for such an organization. 

There is no point in trying to develop myself further or finish my education now, I will always be a criminal in the eyes of the church and the world, and nothing I did or do for good reasons is of any worth or good enough for the church and their God. All that vast wealth of opportunities that I eagerly grabbed with both hands after all my years of starving for quality of life, it is all gone forever.