Sarah Chilton - Mad as a march hare...

Sarah Chilton, alias Sandra Clinton in 'BETRAYAL'

On February 10, 2019, police arrested me...

Copies of this blog had been sent to Sarah Chilton's employers, ABL Health in Bolton.
And she pointed her finger at me.
No evidence produced mind, just her accusation.
She complained that her colleagues at ABL Health were giving her funny looks (quelle surprise) after reading the blog.
So, armed with this unsubstantiated allegation and no evidence, police forced their way into my home in broad daylight, pinned me against the wall, handcuffed me and threw me into the back of a police van.
No evidence against me, just an allegation from Sarah Chilton.

Dear Mr Chilton....

You won't read this. Just like your daughter.

But here goes.

Firstly, your daughter Sarah Chilton ended our relationship after almost two years, by simply posting my front door keys back to me.

Do you think this was the best way to end our relationship?

Why couldn't she speak to me after all that time we had spent together?

Do you think this was a mature, rational way for her to behave?

THE END....

Sarah Chilton Director of External Affairs for ABL Health ironically....

My emphasis (in bold).

"They are often voluble and verbally facile. They can be amusing and entertaining conversationalists, able to tell unlikely but convincing stories that cast themselves in a good light. They can be very effective in presenting themselves well and are often very likeable and charming.

They have a narcissistic and grossly inflated view of their own self-worth and importance, a truly astounding egocentricity and sense of entitlement, and see themselves as the centre of the universe, justified in living according to their own rules. One woman described these rules as "looking out for number one."

They show a stunning lack of concern for the effects their actions have on others, no matter how devastating these might be. They have no sense of guilt, are not sorry for the ensuing pain. Their lack of remorse or guilt is associated with a remarkable ability to rationalise their behaviour, to shrug off personal responsibility for actions that cause family, friends, and others to reel with shock and disappointment. They usually have handy excuses for their behaviour, and in some cases deny that it happened at all.

The Crash (Part 3)

Oh Jesus. An institution.

All I saw at the end of our 240 mile journey to the other end of the country, was a long anonymous grey block of concrete, low level buildings. The Priory, it certainly wasn't.

“This is not going to work,” I thought, as we waited in the reception area, too tired to speak. 

We listened mutely as a departing member of staff chatted away in pidgin English at a receptionist framed behind a glass panel.

We could have been extra-terrestrials for all the notice that was being taken.

A man in white overalls finally came to meet us, with a beaming smile. Even in my insanity, it struck me as incongruous in the extreme.

Not appropriate, mate. Nothing to grin about.

Sanctuary? Inside an NHS Mental Health Unit

The relief was palpable.

After three days in limbo at my daughter's flat in London, a place at a mental health unit had finally been found for me nearer home in Trafford.

Back up the motorway to Sanctuary.

First impressions were markedly different from 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.'

No dragooning, no strip search, more informal.

"This is much better, Dad", said my son.

I thought so too. It was now five Days since my suicide attempt.

At last, this was somewhere I would find help with the thoughts of Sarah and Angela still pounding through my head and heart.

I prayed that being here would soothe my very soul.

The coup de gras - sacked while recovering from suicide attempt

WOMAN No 2 (my employer) sacked me by email while I was recovering from my suicide attempt on the mental health unit. 

It was no real shock - it had been coming since April.

I had been signed off work in March with 'poorly controlled diabetes, stress and exhaustion'.

Picture the scene: a Saturday evening, I was cooking dinner for Sarah (Woman No 1) and me, in the first weekend off I had that year.

Texts start coming in from employer. Sarah paces the kitchen: "How dare she do this on your first weekend off?" she protested. Again and again.

I was under pressure, personally, professionally and with my uncontrolled diabetes.

Two weeks later my employer decided to bring disciplinary proceedings against me.

Woman No 1 - anatomy of The Break-Up

The Break-Up, when it came, was a relief. 

At least at first.

The back end of May. Late night. Sarah Chilton (Woman No 1) on the phone. I was just two months into the battle with my employer, Angela (Woman No 2) and fighting for my professional life. My diabetes was out of control. My depression worsening.

And then suddenly, Woman No 3 (Jo, an ex) lurches into view.

The awful power of the human mind - Epilogue

I could write a million words but it would make no difference. 

Whatever I do, I can never make Sarah understand - or as Dylan sang on Idiot Wind: "You'll never know the hurt I suffered nor the pain."

I could even push https://anonbreakdown.blogspot.co.uk/ through her letter box and it would make no difference. As I did, when I went to kill myself on the moors with a massive insulin overdose.

She said she never read it. Didn't even want to read it. Had no curiosity, couldn't care less.

Her mind is already made up. And I mean that literally.

There is nothing I could do, nothing I could say, to change it.

Which brings me to the power of the human mind.

Care-less > Sarah's reckless response

SO, what was Sarah's response to my anniversary letter?

No empathy, compassion or understanding, of course.

No, she was wilfully care-less.

I got a phone call out of the blue from a police officer late on the Sunday night and several text messages. I returned his call next morning - voicemail. Sent texts to him - no response.

Then six days letter, I got a letter from this police officer.

Sarah had made a complaint about me.