Hampshire police trying to turn a negative into a positive...

Or a lie.
And as a commentator says, what about non-recording, something this messed-up force are famous for.

http://www.portsmouth.co.uk/news/local/rise-in-complaints-about-hampshire-police-1-6555673

Two years later, the police who injured me have never been called to account, and the police still refuse to protect me from the Diocese

http://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2015/jan/26/julian-cole-ipcc-police-brutality-allegations?CMP=twt_gu

The police are brutal and behave criminally towards the vulnerable.

Jersey

This is a terrible thing to happen, and it does happen in Jersey.

In my case, my abuser, protected by the church, never went to prison but laughed whenever he saw me and his supporters in the church had me put away.

http://jerseyeveningpost.com/news/2015/01/21/jersey-is-hardest-place-to-be-a-victim-of-sex-crimes

The lady is right, Jersey is a terrible place for abuse victims, not just because the terrible experience she suffered, but also because of the police's attitude.

http://www.jerseycareinquiry.org/news?newsid=119

Good Cop Down/Patheos

A new and interesting blog is 'Good Cop Down' https://goodcopdown.wordpress.com/

And a Great Support to Religious abuse survivors is Patheos SASBN:

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

of course I wasn't in safe hands each time the diocese of winchester's private mafia beat me and jeered at me

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/uk-news/more-500-police-officers-disciplined-4301032

Jersey's whitewash mafia

last words until the next attack by Jersey's whitewash mafia.

The police officer who illegally helped the conflicted Dame Steel, friend and colleague of Philip Bailhache, to access my inaccurate Jersey police records, and whom the Bishop grandly claimed to 'Appoint' to assist Steel despite protests that both Steel and Jersey police were conflicted and that I did not consent, is the same police officer who is on Jersey's sham safeguarding panel, and, especially as he wasn't in Jersey to witness the inaccuracies, the stich-ups and has presumably again illegally accessed my inaccurate records, the whole thing is a farce, designed to clear wrongdoers, especially in the police where repeated blatant misconducts and conflictions occured.

So, who is going to get this mafia to stop harassing me? Especially as they would not have even contacted me if the care inquiry had not been in town!

anyone reading this, please report, publish, do anything to get the sham safeguarding board to stop blatantly destroying me

A letter to my destroyers 11/10/2013

Dear Jane Fisher and Micheal Scott-Joynt

I do not understand and never will why you had to add to the utter destroyal of me, three years ago, Jane Fisher, Michael Scott-Joynt and Bob Key collaborated to destroy me, and I am indeed destroyed, I will never have quality of life again, and then in March you brutally traced me, threatened me, let a hate campaign be run against me and let a harmful and one-sided report that destroyed me further be published.

What hatred from people who hold positions in the church because they call themselves Christians, what hatred indeed.

I will never recover, but I uphold my complaint against Jane Fisher as you continue to leave her in a position to destroy vulnerable people for the crime of being abused and not allowing the church to sweep it under the carpet.

you are liable for gross negligence by leaving the woman who utterly destroyed an abuse complainant to go ahead and keep doing so, because there is no doubt that Jane Fisher is responsible for the Korris report and her own behaviour being omitted.

As I remember my destroyal at the hands of the Diocese of Winchester, and as I have relived it today, returning to Southampton where I arrived in my pyjamas three years ago, no bra, and only pyjamas and soft shoes, I wrote on my blog this morning, how, if I had known the year ahead of me, with jane Fisher destroying me as she did to cover her and Micheal Scott-Joynt's backs, I would have committed suicide that day.

But today I walked back down to the plane to Jersey, destroyed and suffering injustice that nothing and no-one will ever put right, destroyed for a safeguarding officer and a Bishop who hated God enough to subject me to the shame and horror of slandering me, removing me from my friends and every church I tried to worship in and having me repeatedly brutalized and locked in.

And I know that nothing I can ever do will restore my life, that record that Jane Fisher and the Bishop have given me has left living dead, and it would be kinder for God to let my life end, because nothing will ever heal this, and the seven month attack on my life by the Diocese of Winchester has been utterly unecessary, Jane Fisher and Michael Scott-Joynt, in their ruination of me, completely ensured that I will never have quality of life again, and I simply wait, either for the inevitable repeat police attacks, or death.

http://whatreallyhappenedinthechurch.blogspot.co.uk/

If you continue to leave Jane Fisher to harm vulnerable people, you are committing gross negligence.

As I celebrate alone the anniversary of my death at Jane Fisher's hands, I beg God for real death, and I beg the diocese and police to remove the woman who destroyed me and covered her back.

One day both Scott-Joynt and Fisher will have to face God and explain why they subjected a human being in their care to such horrific treatment for the sake of self interest, avoiding accountability and covering up for abusers and people who supported the abusers, and it remains to this day that there is no justice, and as long as I have a criminal record that was arranged on untruths and omission of my side of things, as long as it remains that I have no voice, the very best thing that could happen to me is death, I will never be able to work, I will never feel safe from Jane Fisher and the police, I will never be off the streets because the brutality of Jersey, Hampshire and Sussex police, who all seem to think that the insanity that Jane Fisher and Scott-Joynt claim I had meant that I needed to be violently thrown around and locked in a cell for 24 hours. 

I cannot recover, I cannot restore my life, and yet Fisher and Scott-Joynt have gone on to pretend that they are all innocent and exonorated themselves and I remain in horrific trauma.

As you who have seen my psychological report should know, I am not insane, I am severely traumatized.

And yet, I am living in fear and suffering, while the Bishop and Safeguarding officer remain in their warm homes and undoubtedly, as is the anglican way, have been able to tell themselves they are innocent.

I sense a police attack and another unjust and hushed up trial coming my way, th kind where I do not get to give my evidence because I am autistic and have spent 24 hours terrified in a cell when I suffer claustrophobia.

last October, the anniversary of being destroyed

I slept well last night, and have woken feeling reasonably good.

It is indeed the anniversary of Jane fisher, safeguarding officer of the Diocese of Winchester's destroyal of me for the crime of being an abuse victim and protesting to her blatant protection of abusers.

Three years ago, my only option was suicide, and yet, despite another year of Jane Fisher harassing me after that destroyal, I survived, utterly broken and completely destroyed. Two more lots of police brutalization and detention for the punishment of standing up to Jane Fisher's violation of my life and also because I would not stop asking for justice, even though justice once I was destroyed and on the streets, became an impossibility.

It remains that the criminal record will always prevent any real quality of life, but at least I have love in my life, at least I have good in my life, and although I have these things, I will only really keep waiting for God to be kind and merciful and let me die peacefully, happily, where I am loved and feel safe, rather than letting Jane Fisher get me and detsroy my life again.
The depth and severity of the damage and the criminal record means that I will never be able to lead a productive or good life again, and the severity of the Diocese's attack on my life this year has shown that I will never be anything but damned.
But here I am, three years later, almost, but not quite, free from Jane Fisher's grip on my throat, I would not be surprised if she is the one liasing with Dame Steel to harm me, I wouldn't be surprised at all, the same Jane Fisher who rubbished my complaints about clergy in Jersey.

For me, life is about waiting to die. But while I am free from Jane Fisher's grip, I am treated with love and kindness in my community, and the instant I get spat on with contempt as I was in WInchester on my return there, I will know she has found me.

It is the anniversary of Jane Fisher's destroyal of me, the one she was able to excuse herself from in the Korris report, the one that lost me my home and life in Jersey.
Today I could return to Jersey, but what would be the point? I do not need to tell you why there would be no point, do I?

Posted last October - lets talk about flu

Well, at almost midday on October 10th 2013, it is running very close to the deadline, are Steel and the Diocese going to going to be able to block me reaching Jersey tomorrow in order to infect the island with flu?

ah, they are scared of flu, the church of england are, scared of many worldly things, they upheld the media in promoting 'media scare flu' the other year, that virus that they gave a click name 'H1N1 and showed how the world can be turned into a flock of panicking sheep by something that doesn't even exist, and the Archbishp, Bishop and church leaders endorsed that, preventing communion to prevent a fake disease from being spead, and showing just how devoid of Christianity and faith in God the church of england is!

It was a joke, instead of using individual cuplets for wine at communion or ignoring media scare flu as the worldy disease it is, the church of england latched onto it as another way of glorifying themselves in the media and getting a pat on the back from the media in return for spreading the fear and propaganda.

In Jersey, certain ministers 'prepared for deaths' from media scare flu, even though the media scare flu was not even a killer, it was a mild virus that people recovered from quickly and well, no-one in Jersey died, but the media in the UK tried to force deaths to be caused by media scare flu and the doctors bumped up the statistics in order to also stay in line, and yet, media scare flu neither caused as many deaths nor did as much physical harm to people as the normal winter flue did.
Ah well, I have flu and I am still on my feet, so who am I to talk? Last year flu put me in a hostel for three nights due to my asthma and the chest infection that flu caused, and earlier this year I was horrendously ill with pneumonia, media scare flu, Jersey flu, and HG flu back to Jersey to share the germs, share the fun and scare the hell out of those reading this who think I might go back.

The police will be guarding all ports tomorrow and maybe for a week or two.

I wrote to the Bishop and Jane Fisher about media scare flu while they were destroying me, and asked why the church of england were using a fake scare and propaganda to glorify themselves and promote a worldly and dishonest scandal, but they had no adequate reply, they just continued to destroy me, and my church that week avoided communion as commanded by the Bishop, but gathered for a 'bring and share lunch afterwards, where the hugging and kissing so forbidden by the church for the sake of media scare flu, was carried out at the bring and share lunch instead, isn't that ridiculous?!

Elizabeth Hall continues to ignore my complaint about Jane Fisher and leave her as a danger to vulnerable adults, which is also ridiculous, Jane Fisher is more dangerous than media scare flu, because she is a real danger, not propaganda, not made up.

Steel

Dame Steel,

I know Bob has sent you his blog, but I thought I would add.

You obviously haven't withdrawn from your harrassment of me by carring out a one-sided and conflicted investigation which does not cover my complaint, even though you are well aware that you are causing me prolonged distress while I am suffering Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

This is another request to you to withdraw your wrong and conflicted enquiry, especially as you were advertised in the JEP as representing the clergy who you are supposedly supposed to investigate

This and the fact that you have refused to clarify anything, refused to withdraw, refused to communicate with Bob Hill, refused to arrange and independent person to investigate, makes your investigation not just unethical but downright wrong.

I gather from the nonsensical article in the JEP recently that you are about to publish your unbalanced report, which as far as I know involved illegal interaction with the police, and possible illegal access to my records even though I forbade your access to any records of mine because you are conflicted.

We are guessing your aim is to publish something on Friday or thereabouts, to try and further ban me from Jersey for your friends and colleagues, and you are being allowed to do your report with no regard to the damage you are doing to me.

On Friday and over the weekend, I have a very busy time with events in my life that are nothing to do with Jersey and the past.

I want to enjoy those events without you disrupting my life and traumatizing me, it is bad enough living in fear of your hijack of the investigation and wondering just how badly your biased and wrong report that omits my side of things will harm me.

You have proceeded in a conflicted role for a very long time now, and you have refused over and over again to respond to my mediator's emails to you, which makes it very clear indeed that you have a bias, you have not interviewed him or me, nor have you arranged an independent investigator to interview me.

You are basically blocking an enquiry at my expense, and the ironic thing is, I did not ask for any of this charade of the diocese of Winchester using me as a pawn five years later and years too late and after Jersey and Hampshire police have brutalized me and destroyed me at the instruction of the Diocese of Winchester who my complaint is about.

You would not have stepped forward with such eagerness to investigate Jane Fisher, who my complaint is about, would you? 

You stepped forward while your close colleague Philip bailhache ran a hate campaign against me to show the world what Christianity is not, and you stepped forward to hijack an enquiry so that you can do as your close colleague, Philip Bailhache wants and damn me and clear anyone not already cleared like Bob key was cleared without enquiry because Bailhache commanded it.

You have been asked repeatedly to withdraw from this enquiry as you are conflicted, see Bob's blog, http://bobhilljersey.blogspot.co.uk/ as you will see, he has also run blogs about your close colleague, Philip Bailhache, Bob is one rare person who is not afraid of the retaliation that the 'Jersey way' entails, ie, raids at dawn, beatings, false imprisonment and police writing untrue things about him in reports, I am also running a blog, and no matter how important they think they are, Jersey's terrible police force cannot reach me to beat me and intimidate me.

I am running the blog in honour of your continued refusal to withdraw and allow a fair and impartial inquiry. An answer to whatever you are about to publish to destroy me again.

Well, seeing as the Korris report omitted my views and damaged me in ways that I have yet to recover from, how is your report, deliberately excluding my story, and seeing as you are conflicted, be any better, it is going to be used to destroy me from your colleagues, Bailhache and the others, there is no doubt in anyone's mind that this is not a fair and true investigation.

I will publish this email on my blog in readiness for the launch of your attack.

 I ask again for you to withdraw, and for the States of Jersey police to make you withdraw, and I state without fear that your investigation and report are not linked to my complaint, I do not agree to your investigation or report, you are harming me, your works in this are a form of harrassment and that I ask you to withdraw or for the police to withdraw you and to ensure that you are arrested if you continue and publish anything that will harm me further, emotionally, physically or in any way.

sincerely,

Bob's Dame Steel Blog, repost from last year

Although Bob Hill's blogs about my case re-traumatize me, they also show something, and the other bloggers have done this too.
They show that I am not alone with what happened to me, not suffering silently at the hands of the Diocese of Winchester as I was when Jane Fisher was violating my life over and over and over and getting me a police record for standing up to her, crying out in pain and fighting back.
I am slightly less of a punchbag for the Diocese of Winchester as a result.
I am truly grateful to the Jersey bloggers for that.

Anyone reading this who is not already aware, I do not have a complaint against the Jersey Deanery, my complaints are as follows: Jane Fisher is a danger to vulnerable adults and children, she destroyed me and is still in her role and unreprimanded, I want her removed.
The Diocese of Winchester and their clergy and churches are exclusive and damaging to the poor, the vulnerable and the isolated, there is no safeguarding and the cliques and treading on the poor is not Christian.
The Bishops of Winchester and their Diocese and their use of the police and Dame Steel have harmed me.

Here is Bob's Heather Steel Blog, and what is the point of having an Oligarch who is conflicted, investigating a pauper's case?

http://bobhilljersey.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/jerseys-dean-dame-heather-saint-or.html

last year's email to the police

Regarding my formal complaint of harrasment against Bishop Tim Dakin of Wolvsley Palace, Winchester, I do not know his date of Birth but he is 53.

This was my formal letter to the Diocese, informing them that I have withdrawn, the Bishop has since distressed me by making contact with me, please ensure that he is prevented from doing so again.

He needs to accept that I have withdrawn, you as the police, have a duty of care to protect me, not just to beat me up and lock me in for this same Diocese when I react to them.

Please not the date of my letter and the dates of the Bishop's email subject boxes in the screen shot, and please take this seriously.

I feel frightened and threatened by the Bishop, and always have done and am not pleased that you traced me so that he could hurt me and use me in his war on the Jersey Deanery. Please remember your duty of care and put an end to his aggression and intimidation of me.

I am not able to attend a police station as I do not want to be beaten and locked in, and I cannot phone you

Also could you ensure that the Diocese remove the defamatory 'Korris report' from internet publication as it has harmed me and is harming me as it is grossly inaccurate.

Please make it clear to the Bishop of Winchester that he has had an opportunity to talk to me, meet with me and gather evidence and he has not taken it, and thus he is never to make contact with me again.

The email below is dated 14/08.13 and he has contacted me on 16/08/13, I do not read his intimidating, aggressive and hostile messages and never will, and he is to accept that this matter is over for me. It is a travesty that you traced me so that the Bishop and his Diocese could harm me and harm the clergy in Jersey in a massive public and very very messed up 'investigation' instead of him having a quiet word with the wrongdoers and leaving me out with it, instead he has herded all the clergy in Jersey together, the innocent and the good, and publicly attacked them while threatening me, lying in the press about personally apologizing to me, and ruining me for no good reason at all.

It is vitally important that it is seen that I have been damaged for five months solid by the Bishop of Winchester and that he appears to have no intention of ceasing to harm me and no intention of helping me, and his lies about apologies, publishing of the Korris report and continued contact with me is sending me mad with distress.

I have also sent this in letter form to the Archbishop of Canterbury, who is responsible for the Bishop of Winchester's dreadful behaviour and harm to me, and also to the national safeguarding officers, who need to e aware that I am still being harmed by the Bishop of Winchester.

I will continue to make a complaint against the Diocese of Winchester until someone hears me and forces them to withdraw and stop harming me. The way the Bishop has treated me and his own clergy is a disgrace and the way I have had to see the Korris report and the untruth about an apology that I never got and have been dragged into this war for no reason at all, is unacceptable, and eventually, 

someone, the police, Archbishop or an outside agency need to step in and remove the Bishop of Winchester before he harms any more clergy or vulnerable people and there needs to be an independent enquiry into why I have been beaten and detained repeatedly and treated as if mad by the Diocese of Winchester for responding to their harm to me, especially the harm inflicted on me by Jane Fisher, who is a danger to vulnerable adults and yet still works with them, she had an abuse victim villified and put in prison and repeatedly beaten and locked up, that is safeguarding is it?

 I will never recover from what has been done to me by the police on behalf of the Diocese, but the Bishop of Winchester does not care about that, he threatened me over it, he does not care about what he is doing to me and the consequences, he is using me to make life hell for his clergy in Jersey, to no apparent aim at all, and it is time that either the Archbishop or the police stopped his mad destructive behaviour.

Bishop Dakin, Withdraw means withdraw, it does not mean go on distressing me, since you threatened me, your emails are a source of great distress and harm to me.

Your investigation is nothing to do with me, and I cannot put it strongly enough you are harming me! STOP! I do not care what you have to say, as long as those police brutalizations and detentions are on my record, as long as I am living in fear, and as long as I am treated as mad and bad and cannot rebuild my life because of the record you got me, you are not to contact me, use me, lie about me or continue to harrass me in any way! The more you harm me, the less chance I have of surviving, with the return of my M. E. asthma and tachycardia all being a result of this, you are literally putting me in danger as well as causing disruption to my life, therapy and relationships.

sincerely,

The Diocese's fireworks display of misconduct - posted last year

Last year's Diocese misconduct post:

Good morning,

During the early hours my sleep became shallow and flashbacks invaded, this is usual, thankfully not too severe at the moment, I got up in the dark at 6am and washed myself in a bucket of cold water, as usual and had my walk, clusters of flashbacks, diocese and police, ran through my head and I overrode them, this is the usual, the problem starts when I cannot dissociate and cannot stop the flashbacks, which are always worse at night and in the early morning.

But here I am, awake and free from flashbacks, although the memories are never far away.

I could tell you about the flashbacks and bad memories before I go into a summary of the Diocesan trauma from this year and continue to tell you in depth how and why it has damaged me.

In my sleep the flashbacks were mainly about Jane Fisher and how she would not get off me and out of my personal life and how she was able to force herself on me and have the Bishop backing her up and claiming she was only helping me, while she forced on me and had the police on me for going mad with distress.

The Bishop was asked to withdraw her continually from 2009 and he didn't.

Anyway, the cluster of flashbacks in the morning was firstly about the police and then about the couple in Overton who belittled me so very much. The Overton couple are not normally part of my memories or flashbacks.
Anyway, that lot of flashbacks was really an easy lot compared to sometimes.

The fireworks show of horror/the diocese relaunching their interventions into my life this year:

• Being traced by the police by the diocese was wrong, shouldn't have happened and is inexcusable and has caused me deep trauma and disruption and fear, these are the same police that the diocese used to damage me beyond repair only two years ago, why on God's earth was it allowed for me to be traced so the diocese could re-start their cycle of violation and harming me for my reaction.
• The police claimed that the Bishop wanted to apologize to me, which he never has, and also that 'local church groups wanted to support me', to me this remains a mystery 'local'??? church groups??? I will never know the foundation of that incredible lie, but the Bishop never even answered my emails, certainly never apologized and all I got was, after a few weeks, some chaplain guy waffling vaguely and irrelevantly and then the Bishop threatening me in response to me BEGGING the diocese not to do a repeat of that prolonged attack on my life in Winchester by Jane Fisher, which led to her having me battered and locked up when I responded.
• The chaplain guy also tried to tell me that I was not being harmed by the hate campaign in Jersey against me, which was the response to the Dean being suspended. This smacked of Jane Fisher and her delusional denials of what was really happened, which the Korris report picked up and used on her behalf in the branding of me as mad.

I will continue this saga later today. There is a cup of tea with my name on somewhere.

The terrible thing is...

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

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

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

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

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

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

repost, prison, court and deportation

Friday, 18 October 2013

The horrendous end time in Jersey

Arrest, court, imprisonment, court, deportation.

I feel the need to briefly describe things in months running up to the arrest. But I can only be brief as it is too traumatic and I am still dissociating.

Jane Fisher was very much involving herself in my life against my wishes, mainly through my former friend Tracy leCouter, the curate at St. Clements church. Tracy had been my good and trusted friend until Jane Fisher get involved and also let the Dean know where I was worshipping. Which instantly left me feeling completely unable to worship there or be welcome and again my complaint against the Dean seemed to be invalidated, which ,made me furious.
Why tell someone I had complained about, who was in touch with the people who abused me and on their side, where I was worshipping, so I could again be treated badly and left outcast?
Anyway, in this time, the sadness and confusion led to me going to Tracy’s house to ask why it was all like this, and to ask her to stop communicating with Jane Fisher about me.
Tracy was hostile and made me out to be mentally ill, claiming it was only my paranoia about the Dean and Jane Fisher and that I was still welcome in St. Clements, even though I explained to her that I could not feel welcome under the circumstances. I begged her to stop being in contact with Jane Fisher.
She said no, and that she was going to phone Jane Fisher as soon as I had gone.
I told her I could not live with this.
I told her about the Dean calling me wicked and saying I was not abused and she repeated what Jane Fisher had previously said to me ‘we do not know what was said when you went to the Dean’s house’

- I had gone to the Dean’s house because Lou Scott-Joynt said ‘oh, what did Bob do?’ as if he had done nothing wrong. And I had said to the Dean that the way he had behaved was wrong and wicked, this is when he called me wicked and talked about the Lihous and Juliet and made out that that was all the same thing as what had happened with the Avertys, and he said I was not abused. It is claimed in court that I went there swearing and shouting, which I didn’t.

Anyway, Tracy and Jane Fisher then called the police, claiming that I was suicidal. Because I had said I couldn’t live with this.
The police turned up, shocking me and startling my landlady.
They spoke to me outside and I said that there was nothing to worry about and that Jane Fisher was manipulating Tracy and driving me mad.
I also told the police that the fact that they had turned up had put my tenancy in danger.
The policewoman replied ‘Lie to your landlady and tell her that we came to see you because you were a witness to something’.

I was shocked that a policewoman could tell someone to lie. But I did as she said, which proved to be to my detriment when the police were next sent round by Jane Fisher.

That evening I fled the Island. I was at breaking point, I had been called wicked by the Dean, nothing was being done, I was truly in a bad way.  I had not been able to go Tracy’s ordination as the Avertys and the Dean had been there. I had been without hope for so long and things were only getting worse. The Bishop who had seen me briefly had said he would see me when he came to do Tracy’s ordination but he did not and would not. He had only seen me briefly in a set-up meeting previously that I had been lied to about.

In England I was in collapse and at present I am struggling to remember it. I stayed with my friends but they were going away on holiday and were sure I was a high risk of suicide and so they changed their minds about leaving me alone in their house while they were away.
My friend Anne, who was not one of the friends I was staying with, was dying of cancer, Tracy and Jane Fisher knew about this and tried to use it as the reason I was having a breakdown and had fled the island. This made me angry.

Jane Fisher reported me missing when I was not missing and she had not made any attempt to contact me. So the police turned up at my house in Jersey where I still had my tenancy and had told my landlady that I was going to see my dying friend. So my landlady was made aware of the church and police’s version of things, but to her credit she didn’t kick me out.

I attempted suicide and was traced and taken to hospital. Hampshire police contacted Jersey police and were told a load of completely incomprehensible things and a psychological report was written based on that and not on what I had told the assessor.
According to Jersey police I was wanted  for criminal damage to a car. This caused me to collapse further because I had not damaged a car, this report by the police turned out to be untrue, there was nothing on me for damaging cars. I gather this was an attempt by the Avertys, as I later saw their car and it was all smashed in at the back, but I was certainly nothing to do with that. I may be angry but I would not ram a car deliberately and damage my own car. I guess I will never know what that was about.

Anyway, this criminal damage allegation never went any further.
The psychological report, though completely inaccurate and based on what the police said and not what I said, exonerated the Dean, Jane Fisher, Tracy and the church, even though I had made it quite clear that this was what caused the distress I was in. The report tried to make me out to be grieving for my Dad and claimed I had been close to him, even though I had stated that I hadn’t always been close to him.

I was furious but was beginning to realise that I would be gagged and the Church of England exonerated no matter who I turned to.
However, a very long time later, due to trauma and circumstances delaying it, I did manage to add an amendment to the report, which stated the Dean and the church as the cause of my distress.

Anyway, the assessing team said I was not mentally ill but was distressed and vulnerable and they were reluctant to let me go as I had nowhere to go, but they also could not admit me as I was not mentally ill.
Once assessed, they allowed me to go and see my friend Anne, who was seriously ill in the same hospital and then arrangements were made for me to go and stay with some other friends.

I stayed with my friends, vulnerable and absolutely traumatized and having been told that I was facing a warning on behalf of the Dean when I returned to Jersey.
But on return to Jersey I was told that the bit of paper was not a warning, that the matter with the Dean had been swept under the carpet and that the bit of paper that the victim support worker signed on my behalf was about Jane Fisher and the Bishop and that it not even a warning and wasn’t on my file and that it was about getting two sides of things and that I had been phoning and emailing the Bishop out of office hours. It seemed senseless to me, the Bishop’s wife had told me I could phone out of office hours and she phoned me out of office hours, so did Jane Fisher, and Jane Fisher emailed me when it suited her.
The policeman said it didn’t even go on my record.
This is an accurate account of what happened to me. I was not given a warning about the Dean, although I was told I was going to be. Even though the Dean and his wife had been so unreasonable and I had gone to them because I was horrified that despite persisting with a complaint against the Dean, I gathered from what Lou Scott-Joynt said, that my complaint had not been taken seriously.

Eventually I returned to my lodgings and my work, both of which I had nearly lost. But I was a broken person by the time I returned from England to Jersey.
My car had broken beyond repair while in England. The money saved to repair it had gone on my fare to England. So on return to Jersey I was unable to return to my cash-in-hand work and I was not as useful to my main employers due to being unable to travel to the garden centre for things I needed and unable to take machinery to the dealers for repairs and servicing, and all other tasks that required a car were now beyond me. I was handicapped by the lack of the car.

I was furious with the Diocese for everything, I knew that things were not and had not been done properly, and I did not understand why I had been given a warning for contacting the diocese while they had apparently had me reported missing for not contacting them and why they were apparently still handling my complaint but having me warned by the police for contacting them about it and for contacting Lou Scott-Joynt when she was supposed to be ‘helping me’.

Anyway, I was now attending St. Brelades church, but they were very quickly ‘made aware of me’, by Jane Fisher/Bob Key and I was safeguarded against and reprimanded by Mark Bond and Judith Davey, to whom I replied that there were two sides of things, they did actually listen to that but they did share hurtful things they had been told. I will go into more detail of that at a later date as it is distressing and needs to be part of my statement about the churches in Jersey.
But to add, Mark Bond and his wife were friends with the Dean and would have him round for supper when his wife (who they said was the real Dean of Jersey) was away. Mark Bond made me aware of this friendship early on and I said I did not like the Dean and please could mark not discuss me with him? Mark replied that he and the Dean had a different theology and saw things differently.
I was upset that I had not escaped the Dean/Jane Fisher intrusion and influence on my worship, and that nothing appeared to be being done about my complaints and instead of anything being done about the Avertys and the Dean, the Bishop and Jane Fisher had got me into police trouble and damaged my work and home and worship and relationships.

It was September, the Bishop was in the island and though he made no effort at all to meet with me or communicate, he was at the Deanery, with the Dean, allied, while I was left shamed because he had had me in police trouble and I was being shamed whatever church I went to, shamed by Mark Bond and Judith Davey at the same time as them trying to help me. But it was too late for help now. I was waiting to die. My biggest regret at that time was that the suicide attempt had not worked.
Mark Bond said that many people actually gave up and waited to die or tried to speed the process up, he said that his mother did, she tried to drink and smoke herself to death.

The Bishop then apparently said to Judith Davey at a review at the Deanery that he was ‘grateful to her for helping me’.  I was furious, as far as I was concerned no one I was maligned to could help me and it was too late and there was the Bishop sitting at the Deanery with the Dean, talking about me, letting me be given a bad name and refusing to even communicate with me about my complaint.

I snapped, I phoned the Deanery and was furious and said the Bishop should be leaving his meeting in an ambulance or something.
The record of this that was read in court was incorrect, the time they stated was a few hours wrong and I cannot remember what else was inaccurate, I did lose my temper and say things I shouldn’t but that was in one phonecall, the only one I had made to the Deanery in months and again the report in court was inaccurate.
The only other person I think I emailed was Jane Fisher. But I was beyond anything by then. Anne was in hospital in a serious condition because the doctors could not get a needle or line into her to do dialysis and this seemed like the end for her, the end with Jane Fisher and the Diocese having intervened in my friendship with Anne as she was dying and having used Anne as an excuse for my breakdown, as well as trying to imply to me and others that I was seriously mentally ill.

The next morning I was due to be working on a volunteer project all day. But I was now in collapse and had not actually known what to do after making contact with the Deanery and Jane Fisher, nearly throwing myself into the sea but also knowing that this matter was unfinished and I was unheard and thus I needed somehow to find someone who would bring justice.

I was arrested.
But it was a mess.
Some police officers came into the house early on Sunday morning. They asked if I was ****** who owned a blue Rover metro, registration plate *******, I was puzzled and told them that the car had been scrapped.
The officer didn’t seem to know what to say and claimed he was making conversation or something.
Then the other officer came in but they remained unclear.
They searched my room, claiming to be looking for ‘computer equipment’ or something.
Money on my table went missing and was not seen again and I was powerless to report it later as I was homeless in England and treated as if I was mad anyway.

The police were not clear with me, they put me in the police car and spoke to my landlady. The police could not clearly tell me whether it was the Dean or the Bishop who was having me arrested, they mentioned both, alternately, and I think they mentioned Jane Fisher as well but I am not sure. I kept asking them who I was being arrested for, but they remained unclear.

In the police station and before, I was handled roughly. When I had been arrested I had not been wearing a bra, and I felt very vulnerable. I had gone to sleep in my semi-pyjama outfit, my leggings were tracksuit that I used as pyjamas normally, my top was my daytime jumper and I had socks and shoes and knickers on but not a bra.

The custody sargent knew me from elsewhere and jeered and claimed I was not autistic ‘because I could carry on a conversation’.
I do not recall what happened properly. They said I had an appropriate adult on record who now refused to act for me, they treated that as if it was my fault and I was bad, the appropriate adult would either have been Philip LeClaire, who no longer worked for Autism Jersey, or the Victim support worker who was phoning me when she was drunk and causing me problems so I said she wasn’t to work with me.
But I was treated as if it was my fault. I do not know what paperwork was done or what happened. I remember being dragged and carried and thrown about.
I remember being dizzy.
I remember calling out for my Dad in Hebrew, his preferred language ‘Abba, Abba, Eyphoh, eyphoh?’ because I remembered my Dad telling me that when he was in a police cell he felt at risk from harm from the police and so he walked round his cell singing praise to God all night and the police didn’t touch him.

I remember knowing that I had no hope at all, that Bob key had won completely in his battle to avoid accountability, and no matter what happened now, I would never have a clean record or quality of life again.
I still did not know whether the Bishop, Jane Fisher or Bob Key had had me arrested, or all three.

I fell.
I do not know what happened or how time passed.

The custody sargent who knew me was jeering at me through the cell door.
I was sick but I had only had water and the sick went in my hair.

I was not fully awake most of the time I was there and I do not know how long I was in a cell for. I suffer claustrophobia.
The Doctor who had been there to assess me when the Avertys complained about me was there, he was jeering. As were the police, they talked about putting a needle in my eye to wake me up and stripping me and putting me in a cell suit, but I couldn’t properly wake and tell them that I was not feeling well.
One of them, a police or a doctor, took hold of me by the chest and pulled me. I couldn’t wake but I kind of knew they were there.
They did something else to try and wake me but I didn’t feel it. I knew they were there and then I knew nothing.
Someone spoke to me by name and said a man was there who would get me out of there or something. But I couldn’t wake.
Someone spoke and told me they would be back in the morning, I think it was the Doctor.

I woke, I do not know when. Someone spoke, he was sitting in the doorway on something.
He said he was the St. Helier Centenier. He said he was charging me, something to do with the Dean. No one else was in the room or present that I could see, unless they were in the corridor.
I did know that the centenier would be a close colleague of Bob key and with him at liberation day and all events like that, and probably even part of his church.
I don’t remember after that.

It was morning and the custody sargent who jeered was saying something to me about me ending up in LaMoye if I didn’t respond.
I was awake.
He said something about a doctor.
I tried to get up.
I tried to walk myself to the doctor, the police would not keep their hands off me.
I do not know what the doctor said, apart from saying something about me ‘freshening up’. I did not know what was expected of me or what I was being asked.
I did not do the freshening up, I did not know what it meant. There was no one to tell me and no one who cared. There was no appropriate adult.
I was taken back to the cell.
I do not know or understand what that was about.
I did not eat or drink, I was terrified out of my mind on top of knowing that Anne might be dead and that I was never going to be ok again.

I was roughly treated further and locked in a tiny cage in a police van. I think it was this time but it might have been coming away from LaMoye that I was whimpering in terror and a man in another of the cages in the van shouted out ‘Is it your first time, love? Don’t worry, you get used to it’.
I couldn’t imagine how anyone could ‘get used to’ being bad and almost be matter of fact about it.

I continued to be brutally treated and dragged by my arms by the police, my upper arms are very sensitive indeed, and I tried to tell the police this and told them I was autistic and they said I wasn’t and they said that everyone makes excuses and they flung me on the floor of a cell in the court. I stayed on the floor.

I do not know how long I was there, the other people in cells asked for coffee and toilet paper and things as if this was all normal and ok.

I was taken to a room, the woman there was the other side of a barrier and I could not hear her and she could not hear me.
So she was allowed to sit with me.
She told me I had been bad. That I had done bad things and no matter what had happened to me I was in the wrong.
I told her there was more to it than that. I told her I had been abused and that the Dean and Diocese had been unhelpful and I hadn’t been able to cope. I did my best to explain in the state I was in. But as far as she was concerned I was bad.

She told me that I was to ‘reserve my plea’ in court and that bail meant I might have to hand in my passport and have a curfew.
I did not know what all of it meant but I was only doing as I was told.

So I did as I was told in court and no one told me how to address the judge but I think I called him ‘Sir’.
I knew it could have been bad being in court because Bridget Shaw, the wife of the Rector of St. Clements was the main magistrate then, but I don’t think she was in court, I do not know who was.

The person in court claimed I had gone to the Deanery swearing and shouting when I had not, and made it sound like I had been phoning them all the time and stopped when I was given a warning, but I had not been given a warning and I was not phoning the Dean all the time and then they said I stopped when I was given the warning until that time I phoned about the Bishop the previous day, but they gave a very very inaccurate time of me phoning the Deanery. And other innacuracies but I cannot remember. I do know it did not describe things.


The court told the police to phone my work and home to see if they would accept me back, but I knew that was bad because the police had treated me bad so far and never understood me. I could imagine that I would not be allowed home and I knew I would lose my job because I worked for a nursing home and everyone’s contract said that if you got in police trouble you were likely to lose your job.
I was put back in the cells while the police did that, I do not know how long for.

I was put back in court and I do not understand all of what was said but my landlady would not have me back so I was sent to prison.

I was put in the police van, I seem to remember that they let me walk this time and were not too brutal letting me get in the police van.
When I got taken to the prison I was terrified.
I thought I was going to be knocked about more. I did not have my glasses and had not seen those since I had got put in the police cell and I could hardly see without them.

When I got took to the prison. I was put in a room with benches and they tried to give me a hot drink but I was terrified because I was trapped, in prison, bad, never good again, it was the end of me. I did not know that prison staff are different from police and could be ok.

A female prison warder spoke to me, she said something like ‘Hi mate, do you smoke? Shall we go and have a fag and a chat?’ This was so very different from the police brutality that I was shocked, I was in prison and was being spoken to as if I was a real person and as if everything was ok.
I do not remember if I even responded, I returned to the kind of semi-conscious state, I don’t know if I fell or crawled but I was under a bench.
I know what exactly happened but the prison staff, instead of being brutal, seemed baffled, and I heard someone say they thought I had fainted and someone say ‘…then she was under the bench’.
The female warder came back and said to me something like ‘you look like you need a good sleep, maybe a nice shower and a good sleep’ and I went with her and she found me some prison tracksuit clothes and showed me to the shower, but I didn’t want a shower when I was being watched, I am a very very private and modest person and I never show my body to anyone.
The lady said she would let me shower without watching, but she wasn’t completely truthful because she did watch and later told the prison records person that she didn’t see any scars on me when I was showering. I didn’t know if the scars I do have were important enough to record.

Anyway I showered myself and was grateful, I was indeed in need of a shower and I went through my routine of washing everything three times, until the lady said ‘that’s enough!’ and I felt embarrassed.

Then I put on the grey tracksuit and she let some male prison officers take charge and they took hold of me and I completely freaked out and they were dragging me and calling for backup but the lady prison officer said to them ‘no, let her go, it’s because you are male, let her go and it will be ok’ and they did and she walked with me to where the cell was in the remand wing where there was only one other prisoner.

They put me in a cell and I went to sleep. There was almost nothing in the cell and only basic bedding which was supposed to be safety bedding so I could not hurt myself.
I went to sleep and I needed to sleep, I was exhausted.
But the man kept coming past and tapping on the door and asking if I was ok? I think, or apparently he did a thumbs up sign at me but I hadn’t got my glasses and I couldn’t see him but he thought I knew he did the thumbs up sign.

Everything is a blur but I am not sure where anything fits in place after that but there is a lot to write.

I could not see very much and I did not always know what was expected of me and I wasn’t always told, nor was I told the prison routine and sometimes that was a problem.

I am terrified of people standing in doorways and the staff always stood in the doorway, basically I was now living all my worst fears.

There were a number of staff and my ability to recognize people is impaired anyway and without glasses at first I could not tell who was who.
The female member of staff who had been involved so far continued to work with me, she had been told or realised that I was autistic and made an effort to ensure that I understood her.
There was another female member of staff who also made an effort.
I kept hiding in a with my blanket over my head, but they said I should not do this because they were meant to observe me and me going in the corner was making observation difficult.
I tried to be co-operative but I was utterly petrified and hiding in the corner under the blanket was my way of trying to be safe.

They kept bringing me food and drinks and I was not hungry but kept being sick or ‘bringing up food’ - I will explain in a minute.
They kept urging me to eat, and they were not the police, they were genuinely trying to help, so I did my best to co-operate even though I was not hungry.

There was a video camera in the cell, I was on camera all the time and so I was embarrassed to go to the toilet. One of the male staff asked if I was ‘making myself sick’ and I assured them that I was not.
Within a few days the female warders were taking me out of my cell to encourage me to help them when they made me a hot drink.
The drink was made in a blue plastic mug and was made with powdered milk and I realised that the milk might be contributing to the problems.
I told them nervously that I might be being sick because I couldn’t digest powdered milk. They responded by arranging for some proper milk for my tea.

They tried to encourage me to come outdoors for exercise and I told them I would go mad with grief if I was taken outside but not free.
They also turned up with my glasses and asked why I had not asked for them, I responded that I had not known that I was allowed my glasses, I had not known where they were and had written them off as lost.
I did not want to wear my glasses at first as I did not want to see that I was trapped.
I was in a bare cell and under watch all the time.
But the staff were aware that I was terrified and were trying to help.

The church of England chaplain was sent, I do not remember if I asked or not. But when she came, I was under my blanket in the corner of the cell floor.
The staff tried to get me to poke my head out of the blanket, and they told me the chaplain had come to help.
She was wearing a green shirt.
I said ‘dog collar?’ and she said ‘yes’, and I said ‘Bible?’ she said yes and asked if I wanted a Bible, I said I did.
I was not comfortable about seeing a Church of England chaplain and had a feeling that any church of England chaplain would be linked to Bob Key and others in the island churches who had hurt me, at the time I didn’t think Jane Fisher, but I should have done when later on, when I specifically asked to see a methodist or Catholic chaplain (the prison had both), the church of England chaplain continued to turn up despite me being specific and again the ‘forcing on me’ which is typical of Jane Fisher, meant that this Church of England chaplin kept coming.
It is like being raped, every time Jane Fisher exposes and violates me trhough other people.

Anyway. The staff at LaMoye continued to try and help me, but some things were not explained to me at all, including that they have a ‘lockdown’ once a week when all staff are in a meeting and they do not even provide breakfast, or didn’t to me when it was like that.
My blood sugar drops when I don’t eat, and I am not supposed to fast because I become ill. So that didn’t help. And I didn’t know about it. No-one formally explained anything, like when the medicine comes round you are meant to go and get it, so I missed out on my medicine because I did not know, was scared of the medicne person and not well and I didn’t know I was allowed to go to the cell door when it was opened.

The cell had to be cleaned very day, and at first the warders did it and then supervised me having a shower and then they taught me to clean the cell and they brought my day clothes, nicely laundered (but I was still without a bra, much to my shame), and then as time went on they let me shower and the restrictions on me were lifted so that I could have proper bedding and a CD player with some CD’s and some books, they kindly took me to the library and got me lots and lots of extra books, and they got me pen and paper so I could try and write down what had happened to me, but in that state I could barely write adequately.

The staff asked if I would like to go upstairs and meet the others, I was downstairs in the remand wing and the sentenced prisoners were upsatirs), I said no, I remembered that old television programme with the scary prison women on it.
But eventually I came upstairs. The other women, aware that I was ‘special needs’, were extremely kind and supportive, they told me about themselves and they encouraged me to play pool and card games (which I struggled to understand), they chatted with me, lent me books and sent notes down to my cell via the warders and generally were so very nice that I wished I had met them all outside of prison as I felt safe with them. They did their very best to work with my autism and communicate clearly and I wish there was a better way of paying tribute to them.

One young woman in particular befriended me and I was allowed to sit in her cell with her, she had all her things in there as if it was her home, we sat on her bed and chatted and I taught her some sign language and she showed me the computer she had, which was actually very good, it had music and everything. Her boyfriend was in prison as well and they had a young daughter who was living with her mother. When her boyfriend was marched past the block, she waved to him out the window.

The support and activities with the other women was very helpful to me.
They were immeasurably kind and reassuring.

But I hated it that the guards had to search me every time I returned to my wing, they were sympathetic, unlike the police, and they knew that the touch hurt me, but they had to do it.
They also tried to get me to go to the gym with the other girls but seemed to forget or be unaware that I had no bra, I had been taken from my home not fully dressed for daytime and had no bra and I was too embarrassed to tell them this.

The other woman in the remand wing was noisy and angry, shouting all the time at the staff, and it echoed, it drove me mad with distress, and worst of all, she played music on top volume, but when I wrote it down for the staff that it was upsetting me, that seemed to be one thing they could do nothing about.

I am grateful to the staff for everything they did do for me, they said they have no choice as to who comes into prison but they try to work with, and help, everyone who did come in.

They also let me have as much computer access as they could to enable me to write. No internet but plenty of word processing.
And someone tried to interest me in an art group but I freaked out and couldn’t cope.

I was allowed extra time in the library, and there was a chapel service on Sundays but people I knew had come in to run it and I was too ashamed to go, St. Matthews people.

The prison warders also took me to see the manager at the prison to work out how to help me cope with being locked in and in prison, because I was so stressed. He asked me what I did when I was not in prison and got stressed, what helped to calm me down? I told him that I would go out to Noirmont or Corbiere and climb out on the rocks there and sit alone.
He did his best to ensure that I could be out of my cell and out in the exercise yard as much as possible.
Basically the staff really tried to help, even when they got the churches side of things against me.

People who came to see me in Prison:

A prison psychologist. I am not sure why but at first someone said she worked out why people did things that made them go to prison, but then she seemed to understand, and I am not absolutely sure on this, she seemed to understand that I was not actually deliberately bad. One time I had to say I could not see her because I felt ill, and the reason I got ill was that I had two duvets on my bed, and I wanted both, for comfort but it was causing me to overheat and get drowsy and headachy.

The chaplain, the CofE chaplin who turned up even when I asked for an alternative chaplain, I now know that this is Jane Fisher’s doing and I feel violated by it as I feel violated by all her interventions.
This chaplain was determined to be involved even when I specifically wrote to staff asking for a different chaplain.
One day she took me upstairs to talk and a Catholic Bishop was visiting and I got to meet him. But she was asking me about things, as if she didn’t know, and I got suspicious and asked if she had been discussing me with the Dean and she said she had only been in the island a short time and didn’t know anyone involved. But seeing as the Dean and Deanery select Clergy, that couldn’t strictly be true, but then she was in a hurry to put me back in my cell.

The Mental health woman: This was a nasty intrusion and this woman treated me as if I was bad, she was abrupt and rude and I felt as if she was forced upon me and that this was another attempt to make me out to be insane.
I do not understand why she came into things and I fail to see how she helped, in fact the things she said were very upsetting to me and wounded me.

The solicitors: I was sent a lawyer, an English lawyer who apparently was not allowed to represent me in Jersey courts.
Thus I wondered and wonder what the point of him being involved was.
I didn’t really understand much about it. He or the prison staff gave me a load of paperwork and told me to read it and reply, but I was traumatized, this was apparently statements from the Dean and the Bishop and jane Fisher, the Bishop and Jane Fisher and a policeman were named as the Dean’s witnesses.
I didn’t read anything. I was already too hurt and traumatized and trying to keep myself sane in prison, mainly by dissociating and dreaming that I was roaming the roads of South Hampshire alone and free.

The solicitor was there with the rude mental health woman and he said I had no good choices.
The subject of being bound over to leave the island came up somehow and I said that might be best as I had no home, no job and legally wasn’t allowed to sleep rough in Jersey and would not be able to take another home and job and have to live branded officially for the benefit of the church community who already treated me so badly.
And of course, my biggest concern was that if I didn’t agree to being bound over then I would have to be kept in prison because there was nowhere to go and nothing for me.
I made the solicitor aware that I had been trying to get help and that I had been awaiting my first psychological appointment, after so long of being refused psychological help because of my autism.

The solicitor made me read something to him and asked me what it meant and I tried to explain but I was bewildered and I wanted the mental health lady not to be there because I didn’t like her.

The solicitor sent a clinical psychologist to assess me in prison and the psychologist said he found me free from serious mental illness
(which is what church people in Jersey had been implying for so long and even Jane Fisher and Tracy LeCouter had made me out to be seriously mentally ill).
I guess they have no understanding about the psychological harm I suffered or the Post Traumatic Stress.

My friends came to see me in prison but the warder would not give me space and privacy to talk to them but kept standing over me. My friends said they would write a letter to the court on my behalf, but the solicitor intervened and breached confidences to them, embarrassing me by sharing what I was supposed to have done, again not explaining my own circumstances that led to what I did.

My friends did write me a letter though and that went to the solicitor and then the courts.
My friends also said they would have me to stay when they returned to England if I got out of prison.
My friends also paid money for me because I had no access to money and I was supposed to be paying the prison for my food and laundry and things and I have no idea how people who live in prison do that but I was in prison without my money or possessions and so I was in debt to the prison and then my friend.

The English Solicitor was not allowed to represent me in court as he was not qualified under Jersey Law, so there was another female solicitor who I did not get to know and know nothing about.

Back to court:

I will keep this brief because it is traumatic and because I am not sure I remember anything properly.

Before I was due in court again, one of the prison staff started talking to me about food menus, they had just been bringing me whatever prison food was available and not a choice like the sentenced people had, but the member of staff said I should have a menu prepared in case I came back to prison after court, I thought they were telling me I was coming back after court, and I broke down in tears and they tried to comfort me and tell me they hadn’t meant it like that.

I was handcuffed and put in a cage in a police van.

I do not remember how long I had to wait to go in court but the new lady solicitor was taking the case, I was told to plead not guilty to Jane Fisher and Bishop Scott-Joynt’s charges against me but to plead guilty to Bob key’s charge against me.
The mental health woman was there and was being bossy and rude, she was taking my hand and leading me about as if I was an idiot and I felt like an idiot and I resented her, but I felt that if I did not go along with everyone then I would end up back in prison.
I knew I wouldn’t survive if I was put back in prison, even with all the nice people. I have always been an outdoors person and worked outdoors all my working life, and outdoors is my life force.

My friends from Hampshire were there, there were not many people there. The mental health lady took my hand and took me into court. I didn’t like her being there but at least someone was there. I sucked my thumb because I was very distressed.

I do not know what a lot of court things mean.
I do know that the judge man and the people up there seemed slightly surprised that I was pleading not guilty to Jane Fisher and the Bishop and pleading guilty to Bob Key, but I just did as I was told, I do not understand enough to know what it all meant and why. I know I was being condemned as bad forever that is all. (but when Jane Fisher and the Bishop had me arrested again in 2011 it was claimed in court that they had had me convicted in Jersey, even though it was bob key who I was made to plead guilty to in Jersey).

The judge said something about how hard I had worked to educate myself and he hoped I would do that some more when I went back to the mainland. But I wondered if he understood that once you are a criminal you are bad forever and no amount of education makes you employable or acceptable and that there was no point whatsoever in me trying to finish my education now. People who are deemed bad live in the gutters and smoke and drink because they are not going to get employment or volunteer work or houses or be welcome anywhere.

Anyway, I do not know what it all meant and the judge and whoever else was talking talked about me being bound over to leave the island and that seemed to be what happened and they made an error something about thinking I was going back with my friends who were in court or them arranging me going back. But I don’t know but the judge had to come back because of it.

So then I was taken back to the police station but they did not be nasty any more, they got me hot drink and made me fingerprint and photo and paperwork and everything I did not really understand and they talked about booking me a flight and where was my passport and they did an identity sheet because I did not know where my passport was.

Then they took me to my house. All my things were there but instead of getting me any things they brought out the bags of clothes I had ready for the charity, which were no good for me and they thought that was my clothes but I couldn’t tell them, and they found my passport, which was a Jersey passport.

My landlady came to sit in the police car with me and she was so concerned and so upset, but she had said she wouldn’t have me back so that is why I got put in prison so it was hard for me to talk to her.

Then I got taken to the airport and put on a plane and I came back to England.

I got back to the airport in Southampton and had nowhere to go. I logged onto the internet there where I had weeks worth of emails from friends, charities and various things. But it seemed that everyone in Jersey who I worked for and with knew I had been bad and condemned and they wouldn’t speak to me.

I booked myself into a hotel now that I could access my money, but the money that had been in my room when the police arrested me was never seen again and I never got my possessions back either.
I went in the hotel room and looked through the clothes the police had brought out, thankfully there was an old bra in there and I put that on though it was not very comfortable, it was better than nothing.

I cried and shook all night, trying to calm myself with the quiet calming music on the radio, but I knew what had happened was wrong even if I had retaliated to the church, they had made me out to be bad but they had done bad and what happened to me was real.
Ever since then, until the shock of recently being traced and ‘apologized to’ by the Bishop and Archbishop, I have been alone with all this and unable to face what has happened.
I didn’t realise that night that the matter was not over, Jane Fisher and the Bishop were not going to let me alone and were immediately contacting my friends and sending messages via Juliet Montague, who had covered up what her husband did to me and to his daughter and who had heavily involved herself in the case in Jersey, but against me, and yet, Jane Fisher emailed Juliet when I came back from Jersey and used her to pass her and the Bishop’s side of things on to my friends in Juliet’s parishes, including my friend Anne, who died estranged from me as a result!

But that is for another statement.
Anything ommitted from this is omitted because I have forgotten or didn’t know about it or understand it.

Police Misconduct blog up and running!

Well, this is out of the blue, I know. But from somewhere, probably the relentless tide of stories of police misconduct and brutality and the way the police mistreat and hurt abuse survivors and cover up their misconduct. I have decided to launch a blog about police misconduct, this will include my own experiences as and when I am strong enough, and will include misconducts by UK and Jersey police, as well as any stories from other countries that people will send in.
I researched on twitter, to see if this blog would be worth doing, and so far I am getting a favourable answer, so, I will link the new blog to this post  http://policemisconductpublic.blogspot.co.uk/

Anyone wishing to send me their experiences can do so by emailing me on iamtherealhg@gmail.com

Trolls will be reported to the police, who will praise them and stringently avoid action against them.

Posts can be published in your name or anonymous but I may have to omit police officer's names and numbers from posts.

This is a dangerous new venture for me. Being in a police state means you can end up being beaten and locked up for such a blog, but seeing as you can be beaten and locked up for reporting abuse and trying to defend yourself against a powerful organization like the church of England, I will take that risk.

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.

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.