‘Between sleeping places’ is a good way of describing me, after months of anti-social behaviour and noise leaving me living in fear and suffering emotionally at night as I felt unsafe, I stopped going back to where I was sleeping.
This left me looking for a new ‘home’ and place to store my bedding. It feels like freedom and fear, when you move sleeping places.
I decided on one of my reserve places, where I have actually never slept before, though it has been vacant for years as far as I know.
I moved my bedding up there the other evening but stayed with a friend because I was soaked in the bad weather. She could offer me one night before she went away for a few weeks. Indoors is a very hot dry place, I am not sure how people manage to live there all the time.
My remaining jumper was soaked in the thunderstorm and my friend lent me a cardigan that won’t do up, not ideal for rough sleeping but better than nothing.
I have lost jumpers, a coat and blankets recently, which happens when you are a rough sleeper.
I feel very stressed, my head is full of pressure and my memory and concentration are poor, it feels like my head will burst, and it may, I have high blood pressure and four years ago yesterday, my dad died of a stroke from blood pressure and stress. I have now been under severe stress for five years and more. This Diocese of Winchester mess will kill me, one way or another, I have no doubt.
Anyway, after managing to forage enough food and tea yesterday, it was the night I was worried about, no food or hot drinks left and a cold nigh coming up with not enough blankets or clothing.
I was lucky though, when I was passing the burger bar, my friend who runs it called me over and asked if I wanted tea and a burger, I was grateful for this, though I have to be careful because he wants to go out with me and that is not what I want.
So I stayed and chatted to him and he wanted to know what was on my mind, so I told him about Dame Steel and the stress I was under, and he told me that life is too short to worry and the real, Great and Just Judge is God and no matter what Dame Steel does, she will have to face the Great and Just Judge in the End.
Anyway, my burger bar friend wanted to go for a walk on the beach with me and I said no, and told him I was very tired and would go and sleep. He accepted that, poor man.
By the time I went to the new sleeping place it was 11.30pm, which is late night for me, I like a much earlier night as I can easily sleep 12 hours and more if I am left in peace, I need a lot of sleep, because being autistic in a neurotypical world is hard work.
Sleeping in a new place, bedding down in a new place, is nerve wracking, even for an experienced rough sleeper.
I was pleased to find that my remaining bedding was fairly dry and I had a cardboard box that would do as a partial groundsheet.
The ground was damp though, so I got a bit damp as I tried to bed down, and I was alert in case anyone, especially other rough sleepers, noticed me. But no-one did.
I was so tired that I was immediately asleep, my head on my backpack.
I woke an hour later, which is unsurprising, in a new sleeping place you tend to sleep in shifts, and also when you don’t have enough bedding on a cold night.
I got up and went to the loo and redid my blankets in the hope of warming up, it worked and I slept again and woke a few hours later, briefly, before sleeping until 4.20am, which is close to morning, I was shivering but the warm parts of the blankets were too comfortable and I was reluctant to move. Surviving the night in harsh circumstances is always an achievement to mark and to thank God for.
A great big fox was standing curiously nearby when I woke, he was reluctant to move when I spoke to him, he was conflicted between fear and curiosity, probably a young dog fox, like the one who used to come and sit by my camp fire years ago. I do not mind foxes but I do not want them vandalizing my stash packs. Foxes are not vicious as portrayed sometimes, but they are vandals 🙂 believe me they are.
Eventually I got up, stashed my bedding and headed to the cash point, where my benefit money was thankfully in, so I headed for the station for the first train down the line to the next town.
This is my life, I have enough to deal with without the Diocese of Winchester.
A song that we used as a tribute to my dad when he went into a coma and never woke four years ago while my life was being ripped apart by the church of england http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LjjSAV9HZ4U
Marking the fourth anniversary of his death, on a Wednesday two weeks after he went into a coma and three days before his Birthday, I remember sitting alone with him after his life support was switched off and as he continued to breathe, my brothers and sisters had left me alone with him as they went off to get drunk, and I told him I was sorry for the utter failure my life was, because the Diocese and Deanery were destroying me and I blamed myself, and a year later, on the first anniversary of my Dad’s death, I was a rough sleeper.