I used to love the early morning, I often woke at 4am, and would drink hot tea and go out, usually in Jersey I would go out for a drive in the early morning, and would go down to whatever bay or up to whatever cliff, and sit in my car and look at the sea.
I loved the sea in the dark, the quiet, the solitude, alone in all the world, it was awesome.
As time with the churchwarden progressed, his wife’s depression impacted on me, and as she used to be up early, clattering crockery around, which was noisy and a sensory overload for me, I began to associate early mornings with that, and the joy of the early morning faded and it instead became associated with depression and futility, a few more hours in a day not worth living.
But in 2010, very sick with depression and insomnia since my dad’s illness and death, I was usually up at 4am, and would drink my tea with no comfort or happiness, and would go out driving through the quiet island, down to St. Ouens and St. Clems, two of my favourite bays.
But the joy of that time of morning and the joy of life had gone, I had realised how worthless I was by then and could feel the condemnation of the Church, which impacted on, and affected, every single area of my life, I mean, when doctors at your surgery are part of the guilty churches and can access your records and change them, in an island where honesty is not so important, and that is just part of it, how can you escape?
That is not paranoia but a very real scenario, which will be discussed in another post, I have to admit, my posts during this early morning are showing the extremes because I feel extreme when I wake from such nightmares as I have, but this is actually a good outlet to get me back on an ‘even keel’ by morning.
Anyway, I can tell you, I was suffering in Jersey in 2010, the diocese (Jane Fisher) in denying what I was going through and implying I was paranoid, had vastly damaged me, and I was suffering, knowing for myself that in that little island, if you made the wrong enemies, life could be hell, this was further confirmed, despite Jane Fisher, by a member of the clergy, of all people, who said to me that ‘In Jersey, you have to keep your friends close and your enemies closer’, and also said that the Home Affairs Minister/former magistrate, was scared of him because he confronted him about ‘All those boys in LaMoye who shouldn’t be there’.
These horrifying statements validated me, and helped me to see that the diocese’s (Jane Fisher’s) denials of what I was going through were indeed just their covering opinion from the mainland, I mean, I knew my suffering was real, but Jane Fisher’s constant denials and insinuations of paranoia almost drove me both to despair and to believing her.
No, she undoubtedly wants me silenced again for at last being able to share some of this!