Jersey Abuse survivors

This is not a blog that I normally link to, but I will this time

http://tomgruchy.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/jersey-care-inquiry-is-it-already.html

Please excuse me for this one off link.

I just wanted to recall something.

In Jersey and also in the UK, who have left Jersey, are victims of child abuse, maltreatment, silencing and cover ups, people who have been intimidated, branded as mad and bad, and effectively silenced.

The Jersey Comittee of Inquiry says that people are reluctant to come forward.

I know this is true.

While I was in Jersey, in 2008, I was seeing a counsellor, and she told me that clients of hers were survivors of the child abuse and cover ups and that they were afraid to come forward because of how they felt they would be treated.

And, back then I didn't grasp the full significance of what I was being told.

This was the same counsellor who told me to slap the churchwarden on the nose when he misbehaved, as she was not happy with what I was describing to her.

I know why people are afraid to speak up in Jersey, I saw my life destroyed completely and was left homeless and destitute.
On the other hand, I survived and came to a safe place and have a good home.
And I believe that enough people know about the churchwarden to prevent him even attempting to abuse again.

I feel unqualified to say anything to the survivors of Haute de la Garenne as they have been through far worse than what I have.

But, I would say, take this opportunity, if you were abused, or witnessed abuse, Jersey cannot suppress you forever, you have a right and an opportunity to speak, please do, while the opportunity is there.

I understand that people feel inimidated by the fact that the inquiry intends to publish all statements, which is dismaying. I sincerely hope that the inquiry has the sense and care for people's welfare, to redact their names.

And I understand how in a small island like Jersey, this can be very daunting, speaking up in Jersey remains a dangerous thing to do.
But eventually, people have got to overcome this suppression, and have got to make the people speaking up into a majority.
Because I believe that although the oppressors are powerful, they are, people-wise, the minority, it is their wealth and power and high profile infallibility, and how they use it, that is giving them the grip they have, the ability to silence

Ok, I do feel a bit out of my depth, but I do not want anyone to be silenced, unheard, suppressed. It was bad enough that children were made to go through what they did go through, and were threatened with things like detention in the mental hospital if they spoke up.
Things have got to change, and I am writing this from the heart.
Stand up to your enemies and watch as they start to turn and run.
You can do this. But it is your decision.

There are some good people in Jersey who blog about what has happened, and most of them are keen and able to help survivors, in confidence and with respect.

I understand that there are survivors who just want to get on with their lives, oh yes, I understand, and the inquiry should make a note of that.
three years after I left Jersey, having fought for my complaint to be heard and failed while I was in Jersey, I had gone on with my life when the Diocese publicly launched a bodged and biased investigation on me and halted my life and wrecked my life, so I can understand that some survivors and witnesses just want to go on with their lives and leave the past in the past, and not drag up injustices that should never have occured and should have been dealt with at the time, and not dealt with by threats of mental hospitals or other punishments.

As I sit here knowing how much a risk I am taking in my own battles, I know how hard it is, and I know from my former counsellor that there really are people out there who are afraid to come forward, and I know from my own case how people, known and unknown to me, have been intimidated into silence by the 'Jersey Way', Jersey people, people with evidence, don't dare speak.

If you were abused and blamed or told it was normal or part of life, or that you deserved it or it was a punishment or because someone loved you, those things were also abuse, when you are a child, someone assaulting you is never your fault, ever, it is never your fault if you are made to do sexual things, and it is never true for the abuser to blame you, ever, it is never your fault, it is them abusing their power, and if you react in anger and behave bizarrely or violently, that is because you have been abused and reacted, and anyone with knowledge of abuse will understand that and will understand that any record of your actions is linked to you being abused and reacting.

All government and states departments appear to remain ignorant of the affect of abuse on behaviour and usually villify survivors and have no understanding of why they behave as they do, which is shocking in this day and age.

But the tide must turn at some point, you can't go on calling your Island a democracy when you are unable to report what you suffered and cannot be heard and understood, something needs to change, and people need to assist that change by being brave and speaking up. All stand together, be counted be heard.

St. Peter. Autumn 2009 to summer 2010 part 1

Yes, well this tenancy wasn't all bad, just a bit tough.
I went to view the place, it was interesting, the family were interesting in that there were three houses and a flat above a garage, all in the same family.
Yes, this was an interesting place, and for a while I got on quite well with the people who owned it.

• I arrived at the house and was met by an elderly lady, who soon told me all about everything, her son owned the house next door, she and her husband owned the house and the flat above the garage, and her ex-daughter in law and grandson owned the house on the end, she hated her daughter in law. The house that she and her husband owned had three rooms to let to lodgers,
• Two men rented the other two rooms, both were migrant workers and had jobs, then there was my room, small, brown, pokey and no room to swing a cat, not that I swing cats, bad idea.
• I accepted the room as it was what was on offer.
• I was offended when the woman said that she had to take the contact number of a next of kin for me, and that she didn't do that to the men but because I was a woman she would. I thought that was very dark ages and sexist, but Jersey is very dark ages and sexist and detrimental to women, it is only a democracy in theory. Anyway, with JM gone, I had no next of kin and so I gave her Philip LeClaire's number, and got the digits wrong, now used to the Jersey way and how privacy is simply abused, I gave a number that didn't exist. Haha, tough! :) I guess learned dishonesty because of abuse is nothing to laugh about really. 

• The couple got me to play card games with them, but I was depressed and didn't love that.
• They would invite me to their private lounge, where they had a vicious parrot who was a bit like the one I used to feed at the nurseries, they had a cat as well.
• The woman said I was like a daughter but Philip LeClaire said I should take that with a pinch of salt, and he told me what that meant as well, but after the churchwarden couple, I would never believe in anyone or let anyone close, so that was that.
• It made me sad, this couple were well off and had everything, and yet, they were not happy people, the woman used to complain and complain and say she wished she was dead, she talked a lot about the occupation and how as a schoolgirl she had lived in fear of being raped by Germans on her way home from school. I think the occupation changed people for life and left a legacy like that.

• I was still working at my job, 30 hours a week, and doing freelance work as well, going to college and training in the evenings, sailing often, busy, in the background I was deeply distressed with the diocese and fighting to get them to act.
• I got on well with the landlady's son, who was an ex-police officer, and sometimes I had a coffee and chat with him, I wonder if his mum wondered if anything was going on, but nothing was, we chatted, drank coffee, and he started explaining to me what was really going on in Jersey, and we both agreed about how awful the building and bribes industry was and how rapidly it was changing Jersey for the worse.
• He had heart problems and started to have collapses, that his mother blamed on the ex-wife being around. It was worrying, and his mother was very upset, and so I asked them if I could ask my church for prayers.
• They agreed, and said they had been churchgoers but the former Dean had offended the landlady so badly that they had decided church was a sham.
• So I asked my curate friend at St. Clements to pray for the landlady's son.

• That was before Jane Fisher intervened and took my church and curate friend from me.
• Anyway, I was at work one day when I got a shocking message, my Dad had had a second major stroke, I knew full well the consequences of a second major stroke. Since Dad's previous stroke, I had become closer to him and my family, in a way I clung to them due to what had happened with the churchwarden, and in a way, I realised the value of my dad's life, and also he had mellowed a lot since his first stroke and had become friendly and would phone me, which was nice, we got on well.
• So, my brother let me know that dad had had a second stroke, and, already, as you know, in a right mess, I was more so, because basically I knew my Dad was going to die.
• I was at work so I went to my boss and said that my Dad had had a second stroke, he replied by telling me to head for the airport and I could catch my work up another time.
• I headed for St. Clement and my curate friend, and told her what was going on, and then headed for the plane.
• Dad didn't wake this time, as we sat with him, he moved a bit, but we were told that was nerve movement, we talked to him, but he never responded, we shared memories with him, and we cried.
• Now all sorts of problems were occuring, I was to sleep on the study floor at My parents house while I was over, but my Mum was not in her right mind, and she kept getting up in the night, walking over me in the study, wandering off, going to the hospital with notes for the consultant even though she wouldn't go to the hospital during the day to see my Dad.
• Horrifyingly she had reacted identically to his second stroke as to his first, leaving him unconscious and choking on his own vomit rather than calling an ambulance, which left me horrified and confused, but at night as she wandered, I was in a stupor and could not wake properly to stop her.

• Having been so far from my family, I did not understand the tensions in the background, and it turned out that my sister's ex-boyfriend who had been a close family friend, was a paedophile and had been sexually harassing my younger sister when she was under age, he was arrested not long after dad's death, yet another massive shock as he had been part of the family and had always made time to come and see me if I visited the family.
• Anyway, I flew back to Jersey briefly as there was nothing I could do and I had work and a tenancy to keep, but my brother phoned and told me that Dad was brain dead and they were switching his life support off.
• I was in a car park when I got that news, and I sat there, drove home, and wrote a tribute to my dad, with my recent picture of him smiling, my siblings raved about the tribute and included it in the funeral, I who was always so voiceless when they all talk, my voice was heard for once.
• I flew to the UK, and they had switched Dad's life support off but he was still breathing, coughing blood and unconscious.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5j3XE20QjI
• My brothers and sisters went away to get drunk, and I sat alone with Dad, and sang to him, I sang 'Thine be the Glory' which was a hymn that he used to sing us as a lullaby when we were little, being autistic, he wouldn't have seen anything wrong with singing a hymn like that as a lullaby :)
• He remained alive and unconscious for several days after they switched the life support off, they kept injecting him with painkiller and I asked why, seeing as he was brain dead, could he feel pain and if so, what was he in pain from? I got no answer.
• GP, my sister's ex-boyfriend, sat with me and Dad, he loved Dad and he was devastated.
• I returned to Jersey and flew back for the funeral, at the funeral, 13 out of us 15 siblings were there, the most of us to be together ever, it was a noisy gathering, and tensions occured, one sister said she was only there to support us and not because she loved dad, the two who didn't come had been blatant in their hatred for him, which was sad, but the one who said she was there for us and not dad, spoiled the funeral by saying the good things said about dad were lies. And from then on, tensions and quarrels broke out and continued, affecting family relationships, including my relationship with family members.
• Dad's death was not just the death of a person but also the death of the cult and the beliefs that had been the foundation I had been brought up on, and that isn't nothing but it doesn't go into words to explain to anyone who has not grown up in a cult.
• I returned to Jersey shattered and in a daze, I couldn't sleep at night or wake during the day, I was a zombie, a hopeless helpless directionless zombie, it was now November 2009.

• Christmas 2009 http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/that-christmas-2009.html#.U6UA05RdXhE

St. Ouen Summer to Autumn 2009, welcome to the hellmouth

Well, I was sitting in the crematorium car park, talking to my new landlady in St. Ouen, making arrangements to go there and see the place, it sounded nice, but I already knew from two years of Jersey, and considerable property hunting and viewing, that it wasn't necessarily going to be all it sounded to be.

I wish I had known Bob Hill at this point, but I had no idea about government, I had spoken to Stuart Syvret a few times, and knew Jersey was harsh, but I kept taking the blame for the freefall situation I was in. And the landlady at St Lawrence had pointedly told me I had no rights as I was unqualified and she would treat me as she liked. I had replied by saying I would report her to housing, which seemed to hit home, because the condition of the place she ran couldn't have been legal, non-quals or otherwise.

Anyway, back to the new tenancy at St. Ouens, I went and viewed, well the room was lovely, but there were no kitchen facilities at all, and as many landlords in Jersey would say 'oh we usually have tenants from the catering trade' ie, forget proper facilities, you are non-quals.
I took the room anyway, and victim support, who were so hit and miss that they were usually more harm than good, actually got me a mini-fridge, and although it was designed not to be used all the time, it helped keep the milk cool for tea, it was summer after all.
Now this tenancy may help you to see that it was not just the abuse that drove me mad and broke me down, but also such bad experiences of tenancies.

• Now if the tenancy at St. Lawrence was bad, this was evil.
• it seemed good on the outside, it was certainly smart, but the high turnover of tenants was instantly visible.
• The couple who ran the tenancies also ran a hotel in town, I can't remember which one. Then they had this place, which was like an old mansion-farmhouse, and they lived in part of the house and let the rest out to tenants. The house was in a beautiful location between St. Ouen's bay and the heathland up to Les Landes.
• During this time I was being deeply distressed by Jane Fisher's bullying, deceitful and hostile attitude and was deeply depressed as a direct result of what she said. 
• The other tenants were immigrants and I only ever saw one of them, he lived opposite my room and seemed nice at first.
• The room was done like a hotel room, and in the first instance she said a cleaner was available to come in every week, and I asked to opt out of this as I preferred privacy, especially with all the paperwork for police and diocese matters being around.

• I had warned this couple that I was autistic and would always be very quiet, and they said that was fine, but later tried to use it against me, as I will recall later.
• I came home from work early one day, sick because Jane Fisher had hurt me too much for me to be able to work. Jane Fisher is the opposite of Bob Hill, Bob is calm and doesn't take things personally, he is not defensive, whereas Jane Fisher was obviously emotionally involved in defending church wrongdoing against my complaints, and she did it by personally attacking and insulting me. She shoudl not be in her job and she made me sick.
• So anyway, I arrived home to find the landlady hanging around on the landing outside my door. She greeted me, asked what was wrong as I was home early, and I told her I was in a battle with the church, and she replied by saying how she was a Christian and sometimes went to the chapel up the road, well she certainly wasn't a Christian, that couple were as cold as ice, no Christianity or even humanity in them, as I was to find out.
• Anyway, the landlady seemed very sympathetic and wanted me to talk about it, but I didn't want to talk, I wanted to hide in my bed and wail miserably.
• Thankfully that time she took the hint and left me alone and told me she was there if I needed her.
• But from then on she became intrusive and was in my room a lot, I would come home and she had been in there most days, adjusted my things and looked into my things, sometimes left a note, I was not happy, but what can you do when you are vulnerable?

• It got worse though, it was bank holiday and I got home from somewhere and parked my car in it's place, and the other tenant from the room opposite approached me as I was doing something to the car or getting something from the boot.
• He was completely drunk and stark naked.
• He said hello and I spoke politely to him, but he wanted more
• He came after me and he got raging mad because I was not interested and he wanted me to look at him and I wouldn't
• I went into my room and he chased me and hammered on the door, swearing and shouting.
• He kept this up for a while and I was traumatized by it, I was alone in the house, the couple were out, this man was naked and drunk and violently beating on the door and threatening me. Now I have heard lies from the Deanery about me being like this, but reality is that I am a very anxious person who was already traumatized.
• Eventually this man stumbled to his room to sleep it off, and I put a note through the couple's letterbox to let them know what had happened.
• The next thing I knew, they were back and threw him out on the spot, no notice, he was simply gone, well he had behaved badly but making someone homeless with no notice is not Christian or even human! Basically I realised I was in a precarious place there, and it wasn't long before it was my turn, now having worked out that they did this a lot. I have never known a place like Jersey for lack of human rights, it is remeniscent of the third world in that respect.

• So, all this and the Diocese and Deanery harming me and messing up my life and me traumatized by the regression, abuse, police actions, shunning in the community, and the actions and attitudes of the church, both Diocese and Deanery. Autumn 2009.
• I am so traumatized that I am not sure I can even remember the next bit coherently.
• Air Display Day, I remember, I obsessively avoided the churchwarden couple and was thus up at Noirmont to watch the display, even though I would have got a better view from the bay, but actually it was less crowded at noirmont, which was good for me.
• Things had been very strained where I lived since they kicked the naked man out, the woman persisted in coming in my room, and claimed she had to clean as I didn't keep it as clean as she liked, she continued to go through my posessions and I cannot recall what, but something got broken by being interfered with, and I had complained about that.  She appeared to be curious about the churchwarden and church case and had riffled through paperwork and files, and my computer had been switched on and not switched off correctly.
• Anyway, as I watched the air display, I saw big clouds of smoke from the direction of the airport, and I was very worried that a display plane could have crashed, anyway, after the display, I headed home, and realised that the smoke was coming from the Les Landes direction.

• I headed for home but the road was closed because the fire was right up by the house where I lodged, the fire was directly across the road from my home, and at the time I didn't know if the house was even safe, huge amounts of heathland were engulfed in huge flames, and firefighters were working to put the flames out.
• Eventually I was able to get home. My window had been open and the room was full of ash. 
• The couple who ran the place were in a furious mood and ranting, but not just about the ash, which was not my fault, they were just boiling over with anger and general nastiness, and not all of it was aimed at me, they were people with problems.
• The burning heath across the road was a huge shock to me, it shook me, I was by now very very traumatized as Jane Fisher continued to lay into me and I was shunned in the community by my abuser's many and varied connections. It was all getting close to the last straw.
• I do not recall exactly how the rows broke out, but this couple were not just very nasty and narrow, they were violent and threatening.
• I had not done more than asking for privacy in my room, metioning something had been broken, and also to mention a problem with the tap in the bathroom, and for some reason they switched the stopcock to the tap off without telling me, I turned the tap on and was puzzled no water, turned it off again, and on, forgot which way the tap turned and left it, meaning to speak to them about it, and one of them came in without talling me, switched the stopcock on and blamed me that water went everywhere
• This is when it turned violent, with them yelling, threatening me with the police, yanking the cable out of my laptop as I worked, which did switch it off as it relied on mains power, and so I phoned victim support as they shouted and shouted at me and I sobbed, they grabbed the phone off me and started yelling at victim support.

• Victim support came round, and in the meantime this couple went away, telling me I was to leave within a day.
• I was utterly and completely shaken, basically, no-one can go on living in this kind of free-fall into hell.
• Well, Victim suipport knew more about rights than I did, and they told this dreadful couple that I was to have the normal week or was it two weeks notice and Victim support would be watching.
• The couple told them that that they didn't understand why I was so quiet and didn't come and speak, and I told victim support I had explained clearly to this couple that I was autistic and would never say much and that I was quiet to extremes and the couple had acknowledged that, I also explained that this couple knew what I was going through with the church.
• Anyway, that was nearly the end, the couple avoided me for what was left of my time there, they did only one more spiteful act, they took my clean washing that was drying off the line, I saw this, but was not going to have a violent confrontation, I never saw my washing again.

I cannot begin to describe to you how horrifying and harmful all of this was, and this is without mentioning too much about the damaging church situation.

My next stop was a family home in St. peter, with  a considerable amount more success, I had only been in St. Ouens, for a few months.

St. Aubin - Summer 2009

Well this next tenancy was brief but humiliating, as things continued to get worse.

• I was now freelancing successfully and being offered freelance work, not all of it suitable for a lone female gardener with few tools, so I went through a lot, trying to communicate with potential customers, being an autistic freelance female gardener is very hard, especially with communication about work.
• The new tenancy was never suitable for a lodger, they had never had a lodger before and only offered because they desparately needed cash, which is always a bad sign. but I had no choice. This tenancy was brief and it wounded me further, it was not like the lodging house, it was a different kind of all wrong.
• This tenancy was cheaper though, which helped as I was hardly earning much at the time, part time freelancing was not a high wage.
• Well, how do I explain? The house was a bungalow, the people there were a divorced mother and her 11 year old daughter. There was an ex-husband somewhere else, and another daughter, but they barely communicated, and so the woman was working in a bank and raising the 11 year old on her own, they had two smelly dogs that lived permenantly in a room at the back of the house. 
• It was a sad home, it was a sad sad home, cold with cold fake wood flooring, and it was a misery.
• The woman was working hard and unhappy, but the daughter was a nightmare.
• The daughter was a 'little adult' who thought she was in charge, which was kind of funny in that for an 11 year old she could barely read write or anything academic and had no interest in her homework, she went to first tower school and I just thought that was a bad reflection on that school, both that she was rude and arrogant and that she obviously wasn't learning much, excuse my criticism but I was treated like dirt by this little brat and her friends, as if I needed any more beating down.
• This little kid and her friends used to laugh and jeer at me as I prepared for work in the morning while they waited to go to school, and she used to shout at me, telling me to turn my music down etc, not that it was up, but there was no please or thank you, and the mother basically ignored me, I was a source of money that disrupted their lifestyle and nothing more, I hated every embarassing minute in that house, and I had to park my car down the road. Basically it was not suitable as lodgings, the room was tiny and not private and I was unhappy and embarrassed, I quit the tenancy within weeks, and I hope they never took another lodger, I doubt they did as it was a whim to get money.
• At least there were no ants or rats, just a brat and two smelly unhappy dogs and an unhappy woman.
• In the meantime I was awarded a grant from the horticultural benevolent society, and I also landed a job.
• My move from St. Aubin was to an upmarket lodging house in St. Ouen after weeks in St. Aubin.
• So, with a new home and a new job, I thought things would improve, and in some ways they did.

Ian's blog post

http://therightofreply.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/mental-health-in-spotlight-yet-again.html

Awesome picture, co-incidental to what I just wrote, and grim story, Jersey is in trouble.

Bishop Dakin, Bishop Dakin, Bishop Dakin, Bishop Dakin, Bishop Dakin, Bishop Dakin, Bishop Dakin, Bishop...

Psalms & Proverbs ‏@Psalms_Proverbs  3m

May self-important people be disgraced for undermining me with a lie - Psalm 119:78 (please retweet)

St. Clements - poetry

This is about my Memory of Jersey, and how things are now:

It's a static dream
I am there at St. Clements bay
the wind howls, bitter and freezing
and my heart and soul freeze

I have been here forever,
it invades my dreams
cold and silent
the frozen bay in winter

sometimes you are there with me
and I try to reach you and tell you
that I miss you and I don't understand
and don't know what happened


but the snow and blizzard get in the way
and my voice goes unheard
and the bay is frozen, frozen sand and water
and my frozen heart and soul on the bay

I guess the thaw will never come
and we will stand there frozen in time
in my dreams forever
when my heart and soul died there

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fUK8aiRq_Iw



And the Answer, 'The Great Ship Bay:

It is always warm here, always summer,
on the Great Ship Bay
I sit on the wall and watch the tide and ships
often my friends are here and they say hi

We walk in the tide and swim
and the Great Hill rises, more sheer than noirmont
dark and green to meet the clear blue sky
and sweep dark and brooding to the sea

we are here now, and past and future are no matter
this is our home
this is all we want
this endless summer and our sea and hills

we don't need the gripping sadness and fear
that the Great Grim Church continues to send
just as they did on the frozen bay all those years ago
when I was alone and broken, that was then, this is now

let it be summer now, in the end,
and let the frozen bay be a distant dream
we laugh and play at the water's edge and I know
that this is all I want forever

you see, I went through the darkness and anguish
I walked the empty streets and ate from bins
and came out into the glorious sunlight
and came home.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qt9tWQ-BwxE

St. Lawrence 2009 part 1.

I really don't want to write about this, this was a vile grotty dump of a lodging house, with a nasty old woman running it. And my life was speeding downhill. I might have been ok if the flat in St. Clement hadn't been sold.

• I went to the lodging house full of immigrants and the eccentric old lady gave me a room, it was the only place available on the island.
• The lady wanted £300 deposit for a grotty room in a grotty house, so I gave her what I had and told her I would pay her as my work picked up, I was doing cash in hand gardening.

• Easter 2009:
• I moved in and it was a disaster, I was far from ok.
• The woman was always around the house, as if she was watching the movements of all her tenants. The facilities were bad and I was frightened of some of the immigrant men, there was black stuff coming out of the taps with the water, the microwave sparked when I tried to use it, and the kettle gave me electric shocks, everything was in poor repair, dangerous even, and the woman would not leave me alone.
• She also, every single day, was shouting at the girl in the other room and calling her names on the landing, she claimed that this girl was her God-Daughter, I felt sorry for the girl but she didn’t seem to care, but I was tense all the time because of the shouting, I am very noise-sensitive and very afraid of loud voices and things were so bad anyway.

• Because the external world on the island was so bad and I was so depressed that getting up was hard, I fell into the world of cyber chat and online chatrooms and was obviously an easy target for bullying and possible attempted kidnap 
• that thankfully never happened because someone warned me that my new ‘friend’ was a cult leader and I confronted him online and his reaction was to ask if I was police. 
• I suffered horrible insults and taunts in the chatrooms for about a year before I realised that this was harmful to me and that this is how it is online, people can get away with terrible things.

 

• Anyway, I had no Easter, I knew that the people who hurt me, my adoptive parents and their family undoubtedly had a great Easter and were not stuck in grotty lodgings and hiding away in shame and depression.
  I really did not know what to do.
• What a dreadful place and what a dreadful memory, as if life had stopped and I was in hell.
•  I would warn anyone to keep away from that warren of immigrants that she runs and exploits, you deserve better. It is appalling what people can get away with in Jersey at the expense of the poor.
• Meanwhile, by Easter 2009, Jane Fisher had continued to refuse to do a thing about the Jersey situation, where I was shunned, maligned and isolated, while the churchwarden and his wife remained in their positions. I had got tired of Jane Fisher saying that 'they were doing something soon' and it turned out to be the lie I thought it was. She also claimed that my abuser was 'a Christian who got things wrong', no wonder the church are re-electing him! And how horrifying her words were in light of the fact that she knew by then he was a serial abuser, and the Dean said I was wicked and there was no abuse!
• It was also at this time that Phil Warren launched his attack on me that Jane Fisher defended and denied and refused to acknowledge that I was attacked because of what was being said about me in the Deanery.
• I was truly at the end of my tether, and my hair was falling out.
• Please note, I am omitting a large bit of information here about the police and press stories and the BBC just because it is too traumatic, but as you can imagine, and the Korris report tells you, my cries for help went unheard and I was falling further and further into despair and anger and distress.
• The diocese continued to show no interest in doing anything and my adoptive dad had remained in his churchwarden position. And the Diocese were not communicating with me clearly.
• The big breakdown. This was the point of no return, this is where I stopped being me and went ‘mad’ with distress.
•  
• I had contacted the Archbishop’s office and been replied to by a rude and offensive Andrew Nunn, the Archbishop‘s secretary, the Diocese continued to be of no help, and I was confronted by a Vicar who was aggressive and rude and threatened to ban me on account of ‘what he had heard’, the diocesan safeguarding officer was unhelpful and tried to tell me I was at fault and claim that this incident was not what it was.
• I was still being victimized online but for some reason I was letting that happen.
• My adoptive Dad grinned when he saw me, saw the whole thing as a joke and remained in authority in church. As well as showing off with his family in the papers and press. 
• I could not go on coping with all this and trying to avoid him while Juliet Montague claimed I was stalking him.
• I contacted the BBC and was initially given a helpful response.  Then the Diocese found out, intervened, hijacked the story and wrote a load of lies, and the BBC produced the Diocese's lies, omitted my side of things, and told me to contact the Dean, and when I explained to them why that was not an option, they threatened me with police action and told me that my story could not be heard until the Police had investigated my allegations against the Dean, the police didn't and so the BBC published the Diocese's cover up, and refused my story, which made me rage and break down further, it was absolutely aweful.

• Anyway, I held the tenancy at that dreadful sickening lodging house for 3 months while all of this was going on, and when the police came round when Philip LeClaire alledged that I was likely to commit suicide as a result of the situation, the landlady told me to move out, and I said to her that I had never been more willing to obey a request in my life, she was very nasty though and came and shouted and shouted at me, even though I was in a state of collapse, her God daughter who she usually yelled at, came and stopped her, that landlady is the epitome of the nasty side of Jersey, these people live in a beautiful island and yet they are bitter and unhappy and nasty, Jersey has hundreds of these people.
• So, at very short notice, I was offered a room in St. Aubin (St. Brelade).

St. Clement 2009

I have to note, before I continue, this description of where I lived in Jersey does not include the full story of the churchwarden and the police etc, nor even the full story of what I was doing in my life, but that will be added, I just thought some of the background and miff-busting might help people to understand.

http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/the-letter-sent-to-jersey-police.html#.U6SggpRdXhE

• The new year dawned, 2009 and I was suffering because of the cold room I lived in and now without a car and very shaken by everything.
• Then my landlord broke some news.
• My landlord had been told the results of a paternity test, the young woman who he had assumed was his daughter was indeed his daughter and she was on the UK mainland and he had decided to go and live there with her.
• He was Jersey-born and I asked him would he not miss Jersey? He looked at me and he told me that Jersey wasn’t all sea and surf and fun and that he wanted to leave Jersey, the only thing he would miss was low-water fishing. He and I had spent many happy hours low water fishing together and cooking and eating what we caught.

• 
  
  So here was a new crisis, the flat was on the market and I was struggling to find another room, really struggling, especially as I was not earning anything.
• I was suicidal, life was hard to live and I could not go back to England again, I had settled in Jersey and I would be no better off back in England in the deep recession and unable to afford anywhere to live and unable to find work, benefits in England were about £50 a week and after previous mess-ups with housing benefit I would not have been able to struggle to apply for that again.

• It seemed like I had completely lost my fight to stop my adoptive dad misbehaving as he had before and would again because he refused to be responsible and the police hadn’t done anything about him. So, with everything so bleak I was suicidal.
• March 2009 Suddenly the flat was sold and I was facing homelessness within a week.
• It was also traumatic that the landlord was suddenly going, he had been good company.

Tim Dakin does the opposite, opposite, opposite, Tim Dakin does the opposite, all the doo-da-day!

Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves; ensure justice for those being crushed. -Proverbs 31:8

Uncle Tim got it the wrong way round, he produces reports on behalf of the powerful to destroy the oppressed.

The Safeguarding that the Church of England have promoted

I had a thought as I walked home from prayer meeting this evening.

The church of England launched a leaderless directionless series of cover-ups that they claimed were related to my case, and yet obviously were not as they omitted my side of things.
They told the world 'Thus shall be done to someone who reports abuse in the church' as they continued six years of destroyal.

But guess what? This blog and Bob's blogs about the matter, have ensured that thousands of people know the church of England is unsafe and unstable for vulnerable people!

So, I am safeguarding unwitting people against a dangerous and deceitful church, and my blog is running at over 36.000 views and is increasing.
Although the blog and the diocese are taking up all day every day without a break and I am hardly able to do anything else, even unable to enjoy the beach and the summer.

I would like to do a quick article regarding what to do if you are abused or have been abused in a Church:

• Do Not go to the Church authorities first, you are likely to be treated with contempt and disbelief, and even if they claim to investigate, you may well find, as I did, that years later, nothing is done.
• Go to the police, and at least get the case on record. Before you go to the church, this will force the church to act, because they do not want to.
• Leave the church where you were abused if you are still there, it sounds cold but it is for your own safety and welfare, I left the dreadful church where I was sexually abused long before I reported it.
• If you need survivor support, do not go to the UK's MACSAS charity, they are not geared to survivors and are more of a political movement, SNAP in the USA are caring but incompetent with communication, the best specific support is The Hope Of Survivors, which is an international charity. If you were abused as a child, NAPAC are an excellent source of support, all these charities are in my survivors links, apart from MACSAS.
• Do not let the church fob you off if and when you go to them with your complaint, fight them and go up the food chain, one and all couldn't care less about survivors and have no understanding of abuse and vulnerablility, but they still have a duty of care to you.
• Don't give up, if you have been sexually or physically abused, this is a crime, it is hard to fight a cold corporation like the church, but they are liable if you have suffered a crime at their hands.
• If you have been spiritually abused, this is still a case you can take to the church. And they are obliged to keep a record, this may help in the future if anyone else makes a complaint. Survivors of Spiritual abuse http://www.patheos.com/blogs/nolongerquivering/spiritual-abuse-survivor-blogs-network/

comments, corrections and additional thoughts are welcome.

My blogs are now on this awesome site :)

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/nolongerquivering/spiritual-abuse-survivor-blogs-network/

St Clement November 2008-March 2009 part 1

• My new home was a lot safer in some ways than previous lodgings, my landlord was an amiable man.
•  
• The place was a flat in a block of flats and I had a small darkish room which never warmed up, I am not someone who gets cold easily but I had to sleep fully clothed and I still never warmed up, I used to lie there shaking with cold, it is the first and only time I have struggled to keep warm. I think the damp made the cold so bad.
•  The room was on a wall that never saw the sun. 

• But apart from that I was happy in my new home, I felt safe with my live-in landlord and I enjoyed watching comedy films with him and was also happy that I was a few minutes walk from one of my favourite beaches. 
• I tried hard to avoid my ex-adoptive parents and push them out of my mind, but they put themselves on my mind, showing off in the newspapers and going on the radio representing the church and broadcasting that they remained in positions of authority
•  I was angry, and more angry with the diocese and deanery for the way they had treated me and supported the adoptive parents and condemned me and left the adoptive parents in a position to make themselves out to be innocent and me to be a troublemaker.

• my relationship with the church was damaged and I was shunned in the island community and excluded and I felt small, ashamed and useless, especially as JM continued to be allowed to give her opinion, she had always given a damaging opinion of me and she had always been accepting of abuse and abusers and hostile to victims, whether this was conscious or not. 
• To live on a small island where you are at odds with people because of something serious, when you are hurt, traumatized and on the autistic spectrum, it is unbearable and I could not cope.

• The police decided that instead of having a meeting with me and Philip or the social worker, they would send me the results of the abuse enquiry by email, as well as telling me to leave my poor abuser alone because I continued to respond to the way I was shunned and maligned in the community by being angry with him, basically the police treated me like dirt and I responded to that with anger and distress.
• The police responded by liasing with Philip and my landlord to trick me and trap me and beat me and lock me in a cell as punishment for reporting my abuser for abuse, welcome to the Jersey way! 
• The resulting breakdown is something that, to this day, I have not recovered from, and I remember shaking and shaking for days and not really knowing where I was or what was going on, the police who brutalized me did so for no reason at all, just the Jersey way, and that was just the start of it.

• I was in distress and in pain when I lost control of my car and crashed, and I don’t know that I was fully lucid either, it may be that I shouldn’t have been driving at that point.
• It was coming up to Christmas and the Centenier wanted to conduct the inquiry into the crash on Christmas eve! Of all things.
• Thankfully the autism man stepped in and asked them to bring the enquiry forward for my sake and they did.
• I was given a written penalty that just said I had caused an accident or something, it didn’t mean I had points on my licence or anything because they don’t have those in Jersey. But nonetheless I didn't really understand it, any more than I understood anything the police said.

• But for me, everything was terrible, nothing had been done about my adoptive Dad, I had been in trouble instead and I had very little quality of life in Jersey because of what had happened and I was full of bad memories and hurt, and the diocese seemed completely disinterested in doing anything about the situation.
• I didn’t recover well from the accident even thought the hospital said I was ok, I fell a few times, one time was a full faint and I was sick and the other time I fell and hurt my arm badly. Mentally I didn’t recover and I kept reliving the crash over and over and even in my sleep I could feel the impact.
•  
• Christmas was tough, my friend Anne who was now fairly disabled by cancer, invited me to go and stay with her and her family for Christmas and I asked if she was sure she was up to having me to stay. Anne assured me that she was, and so I agreed to come to the mainland for Christmas.

• But sadly I managed to hear some unkind whispers of other people who said I shouldn’t be at Anne’s for Christmas and that I had been untruthful about the car crash, which was less than funny because my car was a write-off.
• Christmas was spoiled and I felt guilty about being at Anne's and pretty much suicidal because life was so bad and I knew I could not afford another car and so finding work was going to be even harder, I had been doing Christmas temp work in warehouses in Jersey but that finished at Christmas and I did not know what I would do for a living after Christmas.

England September -November 2008 the emergency break from Jersey

• One thing to point out at this point is that the social worker was only involved in the abuse case, she was not 'my social worker', I continued to live my own life.
• Back to the story, I made my way to England with my car, I went on the clipper overnight to Portsmouth and I felt very lost and alone, but I felt sure I would return to Jersey, somehow, the only problem being that I had no home to come back to in Jersey and would have to, somehow, find another room before I returned, Philip LeClaire said he would help, and it turned out that he did.
• This was almost 2 years before I was deported.
• I do not believe that the Korris rubbish ever mentioned this emergency break from Jersey.

• I arrived in England shell-shocked and bewildered, very very very damaged by what had happened with my adoptive parents, and I tried to settle in the house I was lodging in, I had warned them all along that I would have to return to Jersey and this was temporary and I would have to leave and they said they were ok with this. I had to return to Jersey to make statements to the police among other things.
• But life was not the same even back in England, there was no temp work because all the agencies were overwhelmed by people who needed jobs and second jobs and it was soul destroying and fruitless trying to find work, I did not have the communication skills, I no longer had the confidence in myself and I was a broken person. Work was not forthcoming and neither were benefits, applying for benefits led to nothing and I was without any income.

• But the worst thing was that my friends at the time, who I thought would be my friends forever were aware that things were wrong and didn't know what to do. I needed them but I couldn't relate to them because I was so hurt and it was all a mess. But the worst thing was that JM and FM who had hurt me and abused me themselves were in contact with and in alliance with the adoptive parents and their supporting clergy in Jersey and JM treated me like dirt and this nearly led to me committing suicide.

• I kept myself alive, but you cannot imagine the distress. I also managed to get myself a job at Domino's Pizza, delivery driving, which is what I used which is what I used to do, but I was deeply deeply traumatized and distressed and I spent every night of my delivery driving reliving the horror and hating myself for reacting to the abuse. I was barely making ends meet with the delivery driving but I did manage to pay the first month's rent on the lodgings even if I wasn't eating well.

• One night I was out working when a woman reversed her brother's company car into my car when I was doing a delivery, she tried to blame me for parking where I was parked even though I was parked legally and legitimately and she had simply reversed without looking in her mirrors or behind her.
• My car was dented and I was shocked. But my bosses didn't let me stop work, instead I was sent to that same road where the incident had happened, miles from the shop, three times over to do deliveries because someone else on the team kept messing up. I was a wreck at the end of the night.

• I decided I needed to go back to Jersey, and the police were waiting to question me about my adoptive dad.
• I told the couple that I was lodging with that I had to go back, they were upset and said they had expected me to stay longer and told me I was the perfect tenant (which was nice of them), I reminded them that I had said it was temporary and they said they had expected it to be less temporary, they told me I was the perfect lodger and would I change my mind? 
• My sister was also upset at me, but she said she would pay the rent for the month and I could owe her the money, as I was short of money and had to pay the whole expensive month's rent even though I was leaving two weeks into the month.
•  
• There were no easy ways of doing things. It was all stressful and upsetting.
• The police interviews started before I went back to live in Jersey, I arranged to view a room and go to an interview in Jersey on the same day
• The interview was incredibly painful in that I had to recall everything, and knew it was real, my adoptive dad had made me into his little girl and behaved crudely and sexually. It broke my heart again that my 'Daddy' who I had trusted, my family who I had looked a lifetime for and who had said they were that God-given family had hurt me so much.
• The interview was done in a house with cameras, it was done in a way that people with special needs are interviewed by the police, and I remembered that I hadn't really felt that I was special needs before my adoptive parents had been so blatant and hurtful about my disability.
•  
• But then I went with the autism man to meet the prospective new landlord, and it turned out that the prospective landlord was an old army colleague of the autism man and so the whole process was easy and I accepted the room and made arrangements to move in, returning to England to collect my things with mixed feelings, joy at returning to Jersey and dread of being on the island with the church and the former adoptive parents being as they were, still broken and confused and in pain.
• but I had to go back, I was suffering waiting to make police statements while in this strange bewildering situation where I no longer belonged in Hampshire with my old friends, it felt like I was in a strange limbo, not belonging anywhere, not Hampshire and not Jersey. I needed to end the limbo as it was almost as bad as being in Jersey being jeered by my abuser who was well backed up both by the island churches and by JM.

St. Helier 2008 final chapter

The blog gets almost too traumatic to write at this point.

Shell Garden St. Aubin

• In the UK with my volatile family, my sister shouting at me and threatening to throw me out of the car because I told her not to worry about something and she shouted that I wasn't to tell her what to do, my family were their usual selves.
• My Dad was awake while I was there, after being unconscious for some time, he was lucid too, so we got to speak to him, but my mum was shrieking that the hospital were trying to murder him, which I don't believe because deliberate murder by hospital staff is rare, people usually die from hospital infections instead.
• My Mum, because of her mental illness had not called an ambulance, and had instead left my dad collapsed. My brother found him, and tried to help him and called an ambulance, by then the stroke had completed it's damaging work. And yet, my mum accused the hospital of trying to murder my Dad!

• I returned to Jersey in a bit of a state, here I was with my Dad sick, my family as disturbed as ever, and in Jersey, the relationship with my 'Adoptive' family deteriorating.
• I had believed the churchwarden when he said I was their 'God-sent daughter', and as ever, I was left responsible for the mess, while these people, just as others in the church had, were not taking responsibility for their actions or commitments, I mean, you cannot just adopt and unadopt people to suit you.
• If you say to someone vulnerable that they are a part of your family, you have to honour that, and make sure it is all clear and known to people, you shouldn't make a commitment like that unless you know what you are doing and are capable of seeing it through.
• The churchwarden later claimed that he was 'doing therapy' on me, and tried to explain the sexual element away as 'therapy' and 'healing me', but what father does such healing on his daughter?
• Anyway, it was one day when I had gone on trying to resolve the issues and I went to the churchwarden's workplace as he used to encourage me to do, and because I did not want to upset his wife, and I wanted to know what to do about the situation, but he didn't help, he groped me instead.
• JM, when she stuck her oar in and started supporting the churchwarden and his wife, tried to use me going to his workplace as an excuse, but it is no excuse, no excuse for her on the mainland intervening and listening to their side and slating me, and no excuse for anything he did, I went to his workplace as he had taught me to do, and I went to ask him to bring clarity to an unclear, failing and very damaging relationship.
• But he wanted to feel me, and he didn't clarify anything. He said that the Vicar was doubtful that he (the churchwarden) could continue to work with me, which again was ridiculous as the churchwarden called himself my dad, not my therapist, how could he be 'working with me' and be my dad?
• And why didn't the Vicar, well aware that there were problems, speak to me about what was wrong, he knew the churchwarden had a record of wrongdoing and yet the Vicar and his wife avoided me and discussed me with the churchwarden and his wife! 
• This is why I started to be angry with them but there was no abuse to them and no death threats, there was an angry letter or two. It all worked out nicely in the churchwarden's favour.

• The best way to describe me while I was on the anti-depressant sedative was 'stunned' or 'stoned' I was not in a good state, and if only I had realised I was reactive to drugs, and if only any doctor ever had realised, then I would not have been on that stuff. I have no idea what it was but it affected my body and mind profoundly.
• During this time I was too ill for my work, and my employer, who was a volatile angry woman like my landlady, and who I described during my St. Saviour posts, was not happy with me, but a mixture of the abuse, the breakdown of relationship with the churchwarden and his wife, the anti-depressants as a result, and the fact that my employer drove everyone into the ground, even her husband, meant I just lost the ability to work effectively.
• I had been working on this vegetable garden all winter and into the spring, but this woman wanted everything done her way, and was making me work heavy clay soil in wet conditions that compacted it and prevented plants from growing, she would not let me work the way I needed to, but nagged and criticized and changed plans every five minutes, she treated her husband in the same way, and shouted at him all the time, and her mother in law and sister who also lived there, hated her. I just got more and more nervy and incompetent and basically everything in my life impacted and I was in a bad state.
• I was not at all unhappy to lose the job as it was unworkable. But what I was unhappy and angry about was yet another breach of my rights and privacy when my employer phoned the churchwarden and his wife when I was barely friends with them any more.
• She told them I was unhappy and broken down, and they gave her their account of things which covered what had been going on, basically in the UK, such an exchange would be illegal, just as the churchwarden phoning the people at the farm was.
• So, as I said, I was ill and not unhappy to lose a job that was a burden.

• My dad was home and recovering, but my mum was still claiming that the hospital tried to murder him, and she was refusing to let him have the physiotherapy and treatment he needed, and as a result, he never walked properly again, but used to scoot round the house on an office chair on wheels.
• I had left St. Andrews during the time I was with the churchwarden and his wife, because it was a crass, shallow, culty and controlling and sexist church and I got no spiritual benefit from it, and I found the fact that my concerns to the Vicar and his wife had been overridden and they were avoiding me was pretty bad, especially as I had done nothing against them, and I overheard the churchwarden discussing me with them in a detrimental way. They knew he was a serial misbehaver who had a history, they also knew I deteriorated while I was with him, why did they avoid me instead of stepping in?
• Anyway, it was the groping incident at Romerils that caused me so much concern, this churchwarden man was not prepared to take any responsibility at all for himself and the situation he created, he wanted me to take all the responsibility, I had always remained concerned about what he had said to me about his conduct with other girls, such as those on 'Walk Cumbria' and how he said he had been warned at work for touching people, and numerous other things that told me he wasn't very safe and he wasn't prepared to be responsible.
• This is why and when I reported him to the Dean.

• Those hoping for all the details here, it is too traumatic, I will not launch into it here, what I will tell you is that it is in the Korris report accurately, the only accurate bit of that damn report, which the Bishop has suddenly removed from the Diocesan website after 15 months of pleading for it to be removed because it is Jane Fisher's story, not mine, and she was never suspended and humiliated as the Dean was, when she has behaved as badly as he has.
• Anyway, so the Dean was being obstructive and I was ill, I was working part time again now, and working with the employment trust to try to find more work, but one day, the stupor that the antidepressant drug caused, meant that I missed an interview, and the employment Trust got worried and contacted Philip LeClaire at Autism Jersey, who realised something was wrong and contacted me and social services, which gave me a fright as social services in the UK had always been my family's enemy and I was not keen, Philip told me social services in Jersey were different and better and asked me to meet with him and a social worker and discuss what had been happening.
• I have to tell you, Philip was extremely good in following procedure and safeguarding, he obeyed normal procedures for safeguarding survivors and vulnerable people, credit to him, he really did good work during the time when I broke the news of the abuse to the Dean and Autism Jersey and the Police.

• The Dean was obstructive, as I said, but he said he had consulted his lawyers and 'if we thought we had a complaint we should go to the police', basically he didn't want to deal with it, and had made that quite clear when he saw me briefly after seeing the churchwarden and his wife, he said 'Isn't abuse a bit of a harsh word for it?' etc.
• well this was what Philip and the Social worker wanted, my friend Anne said that 'complaints tended to make things worse' and I was really quite anxious, but as we had brought the matter up, and the Dean was being obstructive, I considered Philip's suggestion that we did indeed go to the police, and so we did, with the social worker.
• We had an initial interview at the police station, we saw a grinning DC with rolled up sleeves, he was all grinning, like he was happy. He had a grey and white striped shirt.
• While we were there, he want to get something and I was rootling nosily and the toy box and I found a toy horse, which I held onto while I talked to the DC.
• When we left he told us there would be a delay because of the Haute de la Garenne matter taking up all the officers' time.
• I accidentally took the toy horse with me, and I love to tell people I stole a horse of the police, but I am pretty sure I asked permission to keep it at some point.

• Now, while the delay in further interview went on, I was suffering because the churchwarden and his wife and the Vicar and his wife had been maligning me because I had reported the churchwarden, this is the reality of what Jane Fisher made out to be paranoia and untrue, and Korris decided from the defensive and untrue answers she got, that nothing had happened, but the reality is, I have emails from Jane Fisher that prove that this did happen! 
• Anyway, I was being shunned, it was impossible to avoid the churchwarden and his wife in the community,  and life was impossible, so, as Philip and I waited for the police to make arrangements to see me, we came up with an idea.
• How I was going to go ahead with this idea, I did not know, but we decided I should go to England for a few weeks, recover a bit and come back.
• Easier said than done.

• I had no one to go to in England, my family had more than enough problems, I had no friends who could have me to stay for weeks, Anne was too ill and no one else was available, and so I was stumped, and I had very little money.
• My sister phoned me and told me her friends in Eastliegh had a room to rent and would I be interested?
• I told her it was only short term and I needed to come back to Jersey even just for interviews, and she said that was fine but they needed a decision straight away, and so I rushed into a decision when I wasn't in a fit state to.
• My landlady refused to accept that this was an emergency and that I could not not go and also could not keep a tenancy in Jersey and in Eastliegh, because I simply did not have the money, I was only working part time in Jersey.
• The landlady was angry, obstructive and nasty and tried to prevent me leaving, as a result I had to dump most of my posessions in her shed and she wouldn't let me have them back. It just goes to show, no amount of incense sticks, yoga and  organic food and 'spirituality' makes someone nice, so basically I fled, she got to keep the deposit and the overpayment of rent but she was still unpleasent about it.
• And so I started 6 weeks in England. In Spetember 2008, Which, at the height of the recession, wasn't any better than Jersey.

A STATEMENT FOR THE DIOCESE OF WINCHESTER

THIS MATTER WILL NOT CLOSE UNTIL I AM SAFE FROM YOU, FROM YOUR SLANDER, YOUR DEFAMATION, YOUR DECEIT, YOUR UNBALANCED AND INACCURATE REPORTS, YOUR INTERVENTIONS IN MY LIFE AND YOUR HARM TO ME.
IN LIFE AND DEATH, THIS MATTER REMAINS OPEN UNTIL YOU BECOME RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR ACTIONS AND COVER UPS AND LIES AND HARM TO VULNERABLE PEOPLE AND PROTECTION OF WRONGDOERS.

St Helier 2008 continued

It was a time when my life was falling apart. Being daughter/not daughter, to the churchwarden and his wife, had broken my heart, and episodes of virus-like illness had upset my life since November 2007, these were probably caused by the whole very wrong situation with the churchwarden, but the doctors in Jersey though viruses could be cured by antibiotics! :(
I have never thought about, or relived, this part of my life up until now, as it was awful.

• I remember while I was in my bedsit in St. helier, the churchwarden and his wife wanted me to go to Sunday lunch with them, for some reason I had endured a service at St. Andrews with them that week, this was after I had spoken about the abuse for the first time, to the Vicar and churchwarden etc, I think, I did not want Sunday lunch with them, I had other things to do, but reminiscent of the Lihous deciding when and where I would be with them, the churchwarden couple had decided I would have lunch with them, and kept on about it, I gave the churchwarden a lift home from church, which was one of the arrangements we had about my car, he was insured to drive my car and I was available to give him lifts to places. But anyway, by the time we got home, he was still on at me to come in for lunch, and my other plans continued to be discounted, and I said a firm no, and again said I had other plans, so I dropped him off and drove away, I was beginning to disentangle myself from them.

• I remember going to St. Paul's Church, the Archbishop of Canterbury was giving a talk on 'Is there a future for the Church of England?' or similar (I hope there isn't), anyway, the churchwarden came in, he didn't normally go to anything at St. Pauls, but he came in, and people either greeted him or tried to avoid him. He took my hand and got me to sit with him. Everyone saw that, so I sat with him, he wanted me to, his wife wasn't there, but I was knocked out by the antidepressant medicine, and so I slept through most of the talk..
• My real Dad had a major stroke, and I was not sure what to do, I was in contact with some of my family but remained afraid of being sucked back into the cult environment, I had been back sometimes and was concerned that the conversations remained culty and extreme even though the family was more liberal now that most of the children had grown up and gone away to do their own thing. I often chatted to my siblings online but was shy of my parents.
• I spoke at length to JM who was still my close friend at the time, she told me to do what I felt was best and that this might be my last chance to see my dad, and so I booked to fly to the UK to see my Dad, who remained unconscious in hospital.

• Being already very traumatized and confused by the situation with the churchwarden couple, this was yet another trauma, and being on knockout drugs didn't help.

The reality for abuse survivors

Quote from Teresa Cooper on Twitter:

If the abuse doesnt kill U, the fight for justice will - Let us not forget the many survivors who fought & died fighting 4 justice

Churches that Abuse.

It's an American Book, ot focuses on manipulation and control in church. It is a hardback book, the author is Ronald M Enroth.

The first example of the book is 'Pastor Phil' and immediately I am back in Jersey.

He leaps on the stage with his earrings and long hair in a ponytail, proclaiming about 'troublemakers who he could point out'.

Oh yes, I remember troublemaker sermons in St. pauls and St. matthews, one clique or another doesn't like a person and does a sermon to give them the hint to leave.
The example at St. pauls, wasn't a sermon preached at me, I do not know what unfortunate person it was aimed at, but I do know that that behaviour is Godless and callous and makes a church no more than a club that can choose it's members.

And the bit about getting High on God, God is not just there for a trip, He is not just there to be used to manipulate people as the cult churches in Jersey used His Name to.

The Bishop of Durham's post of choice

http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/the-endless-horror-of-cover-ups-and.html#.U6MqtJRdXhF

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.