Casting My Bread

Casting my bread upon the waters, on this occasion, in expectancy that it shall return to me. For there most definitely are others albeit single and living alone, for it would not work in other households where there are more people, and it would not work where the subjects have a non-civilian background, such as military or ex-civil servant. Anyway, you will recall that I was made subject to a mental health act assessment which involved ten police dressed in riot gear breaking my door down. To take to a place of safety. My place of safety is my own house. Then there were incidents taking place so I can understand that the police wanted to do something. Apparently they could not arrest me or ask my question using the normal legal procedure. Breaking a door down is criminal damage, and a violent act. It was requested by a social worker who apparently has some kind of special authority.

Now it has been suggested by him again, but there are no incidents occurring. So I gave the fear to my God and left it with him, then assessed my thoughts concerning the matter, and left them with my God to deal with, saying to him that I cast it onto the waters.

But I have to follow up by doing something about this matter, notably because I am able to. So I have began to make some enquiries. However the police website no longer has email accounts, and their pages of contact forms were hard to find and required a telephone number. But I found one so have asked them the question as to which police unit is responsible when such requests are made. I have also made an appointment with my Gp to ask her some questions.

I feel pretty good about this.