World of hurt

New jobs are tough. New jobs and saying goodbye to a lost love is double tough. The thought ‘I am gonna fucking drink this all away.’ popped up. So, time to write and sort stuff out. What is in the way, is The Way and whatever it takes is what it takes. 😦 Not enjoying this road down into the darkness of loss and loneliness. And then again: if I am not enjoying this? Why am I here, looking at it? Energy flows where attention goes. I mean, I might as well go do something nice which brings me pleasure, not? 🙂  Yeah, that would be a good idea. 🙂 Not there yet though. Guess I always need to go through the dark stuff in order to work in out. Here goes the rollercoaster on its way down. Not promising a way up but let’s see if I can get there. 🙂

So, what happened? I’m in a new job where I need to get the company ready for a certification and the general quality of the staff who actually needs to bring a certain quality of produce is lower than I had expected. So I consulted with my boss to get two of my former collegues in; the nice guy and his collegue friend. Both of them get on very well together, are good workforce, likeable and communicate well at the workfloor. And… more importantly: they had been talking about leaving and wanting to get away continuously for a year so I thought they were interested in a new function. The nice guy even asked me for a job when I told him where I worked. However, my boss’ firm also supplies the holding of my former employer so… we can not make it too obvious, that would be unpolite-ish. I sent a Facebook message to both ex-collegues to check out a vacancy site and to call me after. Can’t make it too obvious because of the damage my old boss could do to my new boss. The vacancy description was vague in order not to alert my former company. And then the guys never called. And they did not read my next message checking up on them. I phoned the nice guy on the number he had left me to be a reference and somebody with  another name picked up. In the conversation that followed I noticed that the person picking up was very drunk and possibly stoned too because way out there and very giggly and sluggish speach. I could not make out if it was the nice guy or not. I can not imagine him giving me the wrong number for a reference. I can imagine him being totally angry with me, specifically after what follows:

Last night I dreamed that the nice guy met. He and I have been in love with eachother on and off over the last year but it never connected because of my doubts, his doubts and the scary boss combined. Everybody tried to put us together, both male and female collegues and the boss. After a while he reacted with anger and despise to that, towards me, I felt that he was reacting to the confusion. But maybe he did indeed despise me. Dunno. And then he would turn around and be ultra nice again. Confusing and painfull but I had other things on my mind: surviving my boss sober. Well, last night I dreamed that we saw each other today and that we did not speak because he thought that I thought that he was not good enough for me blablablabla. And I was too flabbergasted to say something, felt unwanted and denied. It left me crying when waking up. Being dream-met with despise and doubt was hurtful.

Today I left work early. On my way home on my bike the nice guy was oncoming traffic on the bike path. I could not believe the strange world I was travelling in. I mean, Amsterdam is not big, it is a 1.000.000 people village but to meet somebody? On that stretch we have a 10 second window to actually meet eachtother. His workinghours are normally way later. The ‘nice’ guy saw me and turned even darker than his mood was / looks already were. Shit he looked bad; all bloated and at least 10 kilo’s heavier than I had last seen him. And dark, dark, dark, brooding, in psychological pain, haunted, angry. He did not say anything. He did not stop. I only looked at him in a sort of neutral face, not smiling, just being internally checking myself if I was still sane. This strange mix up of the dream world with the daily world was confusing. Seeing him and his face turning angry was very hurtful. When I came home I unfriended both ex-collegues on Facebook. And now I am sad. Having difficulty holding myself together. Falling apart here. The betrayal is big.

The above happen last Friday.

Useless inbetween story: The other day I had dreamed of the bookstoreman and he became oncomming traffic too. He ignored me too. It is a strange world in which I travel. You know, I have been wishing that things would become clear, would unfold. That I would get proof of the weirdness of my life, of the energetic connection between people. That it is indeed possible to communicate ‘through the air’ (yes this is getting even more weird ;-)) with people as I have suspected all my life. At the evening I met the bookstoreman I biked through Amsterdam deciding ‘on feel’ what route to take to the place where I need to go and then, like a sniffer dog, bike into the person I was looking for. I was so sure I would meet him I had taken the books I still ow him. I don’t know where he lives or works or, well. I do not know anything about him since a year. But it is possible. I know, that is why it is happening. And fuck they don’t give a shit. That is also possible unfortunately. 😦

I am guessing that this is a point where I could go insane or possibly move into a psychoses or so. Well, that’s how it feels. And sorry to be putting these vague experiences onto you. This is where I am logging my experiences on the strange road to clarity and through the dark fields that sobriety can bring. The weirdness of these happenings have a cross over quality of the dream state into the daily state. And I guess it is true that there is much more ‘out there’ and possible. Not sure how to incorperate it into my own life without having the feeling I am losing my sanity. Worrying about that makes turns up the pressure by the way. Better to sit back and see where it takes me without opinion, without wanting to pin it down. But that scares me. The tendency to judge, to have an opinion has the function to make life comprehendable but it also limits the experience, cuts it off, breaks it into pieces which can be judged and clung to instead of giving myself the ability to see the whole, overwhelming, picture. I wish I had somebody who could help me with this.

I am so sad. I feel despised and I have no clue as to why. Why ask me to put in a word with the boss and then not react to a vacancy? Why not contact me? Why pass me by while looking me right in the face. What the fuck did I do?! Or maybe; what the fuck did my boss tell him. There’s also a possiblity. Or maybe he is not really happy that I move on and make more money than he does now. He often told me that he feels like a loser who has done bad with his life and career. I don’t know and there is little use trying to work out why and what and try to think for him. Need to let go.

So, again, I have proven that I fall for guys who do not like me. Fuck this hurts. Fuckerthefuckfuckfuck. Well, no fuck, that’s the problem. :-/ Sigh. Funny thing; why, if I think to, at times, have the ability to open up to another experience world where things like biking through town and meeting the person you were looking for, do I not ‘imagine’ that to be somebody who likes me. 😀 Ghegheghe… funny, not? I don’t think it works that way; it is not me sending these guys to meet me. It is me opening up to the energy of these people and energetically sniffing them out in another plane. I do not think it is such a strange thing to do. Not sure if that means I am crazy or just have a different experience.

I dislike having to sort issues like this out in my probation time. In the 2 weeks I have been in this firm I have built up a 160 item to do list. The consultants guiding the company through the process doubt if we can make the certification in such a short period but my boss has committed himself to the shareholders and some important big new clients. I have been stepping up to meet the expectations of this job in these 2 weeks. I feel like I have only done a tiny percentage of what I have to do. Every day I grow in the way I conduct myself, the way I organise, in the 3 kilo procedures and legislations I read, the new software I study, the abbreviations. Every day I bike the 20-25 minutes home and try to relax and put it out of my head. I realise that I feel insufficient, always have. That I think I need to make up for some failing I have. That I am never good enough. That someday people will find out and hang me.

The other day I thought that with being sober for more than 2 years at a first try, I now belong the the 1% of people who actually did that. I am not proud because I know I had to otherwise I would be dead. So, I mean, that’s not really a choice is it? Then this 1% combined with another thought where I once did a nationwide schooltest and scored a 99% score. That meant that only 1% of the kids of that year in the Netherlands scored better than I did. I came home and at proudly telling this to my parents my fathers first reaction was; “Yeah, I always thought that you lacked something” – can’t remember the exact words. They cut deep. The other day I tried to think myself complete by adding the 1% to the 99%.

I don’t want this life anymore. I find it too difficult to be me. Not sure how other people do that; be them. It hurts. Things hurt and I have no clue as to find what I am looking for. I always feel incomplete. Broken. The book on the lost twins described that nicely how people who have lost a twin keep on treating every person they meet as their lost twin: trying to connect at hearts level. I do that. I get personel even before I know your name, well sort of but yeah, almost literally. I open up like we have know eachother for 20 years. All in the search for that what I feel I am missing. The rest of me.

Somehow the thought of being in a relation gives me the idea of being whole. But I know from experience that this is not so. It does not take long for me to feel locked up in a relation. So many things I do not understand about life. I see a lot of people who are in a relation and miserable. Sometimes I think I would prefer that. I know it takes me 5 minutes of that misery to realise that I don’t.

Loneliness, it is the longing version of being alone. We have needs and we have desires. Loneliness as I have the longing version after somebody who is obviously not into me is the desire version. It is like addiction. I had the need to relax, wind down and hurt less and I desired alcohol.

Ok, now to get out all the nastyness out of my system: it has taken me exactly 2 weeks to fall in love with my new boss. (yes, go ahead, unfriend this miserable moaning blog, I think I would… literally). Which is one of the reasons why I felt so much in need of the nice guy because that would be a good distraction. Not? Whoops, so much for ‘love’; “I am in love with somebody else which is unsuitable, yet again, but you can serve as a nice distraction.” Gosh. You! Yeah you reading this: when in a relation, stick with what you have. It is messy out here. 😀

Sigh. My god, how did I ever survive me? Ooh yeah, I did not. I drank. Ok, so currently I am ‘only’ sorting out what I should have learned as a teenager. Double sigh. Tripple sigh. {Insert harsh language of your liking} {Repeat}

Notice how my post get erratic and long now I did not meditate for a week? I find that interesting.

It is Monday today, spoke with my new boss. He had received a call from my former boss about not taking her staff on last Thursday. Guess that explains why the ‘nice’ guy did not speak with me. Somehow it came out somewhere. Not sure how. I guess I will never know because ‘nice’ guys is not going to tell me I guess. Lucky me I have a conversation online where he asks me for a job and yes I will show that to my new boss. Shit this hurts and it is no way I would like  to start a new job but I guess if one does something which is not 100% kosher the results will be as unsavery.

My boss informed me that he did not want to tell me my former boss had called. I was so shaken that I left it at that. He very much dislikes her, he used to work with her and actually finds her very unlikable. 😦 Boss gossip.

Back to Sunday. Yesterday I called my sister in law, we had video contact and her 12 year old son walks into the conversation saying something. I did not reply immediately at which he replied: “Are you traumatised now?! Dad says you are traumatised soooo easily.” At which my SIL sort of starts laughing in a ‘this is funny but you are not supposed to say that’ and (so?) he repeats; “Yes! That says that you are soooo easily traumatised, he does!” At which he started laughing. I unplugged Facebook and shut down both my phones immediately. I have deleted all messenges since without reading or listening and I have replied to them today that I do not want contact. To hear this demeaning comments about the man who in his earlier year egged on his friends to assault me, threaten me, rape me, who put a knife to my throat, who lied about everything to my parents, who did not object if anybody made untrue comments or statements about any of it. Who stood by chuckling at my powerlessness during all this. I had no response. Still do not. My SIL made the same ‘let’s not take this serious’ kind of noises which were so very, very familiar. I was afraid of this coming up. This remark about being traumatised has run through conversations earlier, the kids fence with it whenever I comment on them being insensitive about something. My brother has mentioned it earlier.

Not sure when there is an end to the pain.Guess there will be because there always is at some point.

I am happy that I quit. If I had not I am pretty sure I would have killed myself over this. This backstabbing from various directions all at the same time. 😦

I have learned by now that pain goes away after a while. That I need to take care of me. That no matter what I always have myself. It is a lonely disposition. Currently I prefer it to people. However I did call friends to speak with. And one of them even said: how good of you to call, this is different from where you came from. 🙂 So I guess that is progress. :-/

I find it difficult to concentrate at work. 😦 And my to do list has gotten up to 165 items in these 2 weeks that I work there. All items are tasks of at least 2 hours. One could call it job security. I feel insecure wether I can actually do this. Scared that my former boss spoke ill of me about this. Off to bed. Need to be sharp tomorrow. A woman who loves herself would love herself and not run for the pain, acknowledge it but possibly not make it my dayjob. I have another dayjob. Need to get through my probation time.

I am happy that I quit. 🙂 No spellcheck, off to bed.

xx, Feeling

2000 light years from home

I guess that about sums it up. Life has been tough. Reading another book on the vanishing twin syndrome has really confronted me with the issue and the sadness I have felt all my life. All the details, every point of it, everything falls into place; even the constant oversharing I do on this blog. Between twins this is not oversharing, it is normal. It is the norm. And in doing so I try to recreate what was. Everything falls into place apart from me. I fall apart.

This immense overwhelming feeling of not being whole, of living and constantly looking for something which in reality cannot be found. Ever. The inability to settle in a house, a life, a job, an occupation even, a relation, a family, always searching, never finding. Always on the road. They call it a hole in the soul and yes, there it is and now it finally has a name. At first I was happy of having found what uprooted me even before I was born and turned me into somebody who is ‘different’, not normal. Now the realisation of having been born this way, knowing that what makes me different has rendered me structurally unsound, unfit to actually find what I am looking for, longing for.

I have always thought that what I am looking for is, well, must be around the corner, where else? I just have not found it yet. But it is not. I now understand this palm reader who, while looking at my hand called out: “I don’t understand you are still alive?!” Like it was written in my palm that I had died, or should have. I did not, my other me did. I have a simian crease as a reminder. 😦

I am tired, lost, lonely. And I don’t understand. I have finally found what ‘ails’ me but shit it hurts. And yes, I understand it must be strange for people to understand this, or even believe the existence of something like a vanishing twin syndrome but I know this is geographically correct, and probably, most likely historically. My mother had blood loss while being pregnant with me, well, me and my twin brother so there is more than ‘only’ my experience of him dying.

This is a sonogram from a twin brother and sister. He is too tiny to survive, holding his big sisters hand.


Funny thing: do you, since you quit drinking, know pretty sure who drinks too much and who is a normy? Can you tell within seconds of seeing somebody? Same here with the VTS. This openness, the hole in the soul, this hole in the aura even. The ability to bond and as I put it ‘make an energetic coccoon’ around two people within seconds. That. Excluding the world and only living for eachother. Where ‘you are me and I am you’ is reality.

Currently I am living in the darkness of his death. So horrific, so overwhelming to witness death up so close and not be able to do something, nothing I could do could save him, nothing I could do to save me from taking it all in; death, destruction, the falling apart from the essence that kept together what I knew as my brother, the other me.

There is not even a path to walk on. I am just floating through the universe and everything is far away. I don’t want to have to search anymore. I am so tired.

This vid explains it ‘all’. Like with the Craig Nakken book on addiction, in this vid almost every sentence is true for me. Please also watch when you are bipolar, have eating disorder, sabotage yourself, have co-dependent relationships and/or addictions. The addictions are not mentioned in this vid but are in the books and website info of a lot of sites. Please not the half black and half white puppet in the presentation, that is my description of me in this dream where I had ‘born myself‘.


It is way past bed time and I am not doing what I should be doing but I am happy, well, happy in a very sad way I wrote this post and found the vid. I am also happy that I quit drinking. Life is tough right now but imagine being so sad AND drinking. Ieeehks, not good. 😦

Thank you for reading. I know it is not the most uplifting post I have written. 🙂

xx, Feeling

I don’t have a power issue, this world has a power issue.

Visited the therapist Friday. That was Good. Trying to get a inkling of how my power issues work. Loads of, I don’t know, I guess burping up old stuff, connecting stuff. Difficult. Did not come to the point of ‘dealing with’.

Went to my brothers afterwards, kids where there, playing computer games. Funny thing is that my brother out of the blue remarked that he had thrown of a game from his phone because he had gotten addicted to it. At which moment he returned to his computer to play a game. I don’t think he has any idea.

My sister in law, the youngest and I played a board game. That was good fun. Brother and sister drank wine. No problem for me. And it was no problem telling them that I did not drink beer because I have been telling everybody over the last few months that I was going into therapy to control my weight. Not drinking beer is part of that and I also told them that I feel like it makes me depressed. At which my brother says: Yes, I have that too, have not drank beer for 2 years because only 1 glass makes me depressed for 3 days. I drink wine now.

All in all, nobody is surprised if I adjust my intake of anything. Over the years I have shown strong, funny, ever changing likes and dislikes towards all kinds of food. I do have to endure listening to all the weight loss tips and hints now. 😀 But I am sure they beat getting tips and hints about not drinking. Ghegheghe. Note to self: do not give anybody tips on anything unless they ask.

There were a few nasty remarks from my brother that were below the belt. We got into a tricky conversation about the artwork of one of the dead brothers of my sister in law. He was in an art school but painted like a 10 year old and 80% of this art showed pictures of a young boy being raped while the parents where within sight but did not see anything or react. And the paintings also portrayed his dead brother, mostly buried. I questioned whether they had ever tried to find out what those pictures meant, saying ‘if it where my child I would be extremely worried’. This is the moment the shit hit the fan. I should have known better. Don’t even want to go there in explaining, she panicked and non of it was true. Ever. And if it was there is no use digging because he too is dead.

“I think differently about such issues.’’

‘Yeah, but you claim the right to finding a trauma anytime.’ – this was my brother.

Well, yeah, since you were standing laughing while I got beat up, undressed against my will and ‘searched’ by your friends I guess you will not find meaning in anything that I say. – but that was my thinking, I only said ‘Oh really? Is that what you think…’ At which the sister in law started flighty looks from him to me and back. No need to argue that I do have a power issue. I wanted to beat him to pulp at that moment. Still do. Don’t feel like getting over it. Feel like getting even.

Dunno what is worst, the betrayal then, the things that happened or the blaming that he does now. I guess I can conclude he’s not my friend.

Today I found the kids gaming and watching tv all at the same time. Daughter noticed it was her father’s birthday when she opened Facebook. He had been in the room for an hour already. Sister in law and I went out for a beautiful bike ride through the countryside. I miss my homeland, but apart from the countryside I don’t have a lot to turn back to.

Going home was difficult. Sitting in the train going away from my family to my house in the city has always been a ‘drink me senseless’ moment. Didn’t. Came home, cuddled with the cat, made a vegetable juice. Stuff hurts. Major trap and I didn’t even set it myself. And that’s another trap thought.

Not happy that I stopped drinking. Dangerous moment. Try different approach, thinking what drinking would add now. It would add that this what hurts gets hidden or buried, mixed with fake drunk feelings and that my heart would feel stiff and untouchable. It would not be able to breath. Now it hurts but it is alive. Wonder if I ever cried about the shit that happened before. Think not. Cried about my mother turning me away about it. Not protecting me when I asked her to help me.

‘Mam, they are doing it again!’

‘I am in a conversation.’

‘But mam, they are doing it AGAIN! You said that I should come to you if they are doing it again. You said you would help me, tell them not to.’

‘I am speaking with Mrs E, don’t interrupt and don’t go standing here, get away.’

A few weeks before she made me take my cloths of in front of them because they were dirty and I was not allowed in the house because she had just vacuumed. She already knew the boys had been chasing me, trying to undress me and ‘see how it looks.’ They had heard you could put things in it so they had sticks. That never got so far. I fought. I never screamed, that egged them on. Their father was an abusive alcoholic, everybody but my parents knew that. They boys often had broken bones. And my brother laughed because he thought I got what was coming to me for some reason.

It still hurts. Guess I have to choose my friends more carefully. I did not do that then, even though I knew they were up to something. I’ve always known, earlier, at that moment and later what men would come after me and try stuff. I had special shoes for going out with very stiff and pointy toes. Don’t try to hit, kick. No heels, can’t run. An elbow in the solar plexis when they were behind me, big dicks grinding in crowds, then turn and look innocent and worried and say: Oooh, I’m very, very sorry! A knee in the balls or a knee in the outside of the upper legs, both cripples them and it does get the message home. Prepare to fight back if they get irritated. Loads of do or die, or do and die decisions.

I once twisted a guys nuts with my hand, like 90 degrees or what. That felt so strange that I can actually still feel it. It is 20 years ago. He shouldn’t have been grinding up on me repeatedly. I had warned him. He doubled over. He looked green when he came back up. I had never seen anybody look green, so that was strange too. And then he left which was convenient. My brother was there too, he laughed his head off. I was already a little drunk, got way drunk after.

It should have been strange that he was grinding up on me. And it should have been convenient that my brother was there so he could have helped me. I should have been worried at seeing somebody turn green with pain and nausea. These are sentences where the words strange and convenient are at its right place. I can see power issues having a firm grip on me within the above sentences, weird detachment in the wordings. Feels like a serial killer in the making, apart from that I did not go there, got self destructive instead. Guess that is the female way out.

It was after the 7th or 8th time or so that I was involuntarily grabbed by my boobs, arse or crutch and/or pinned against a wall and French ‘kissed’ that I did not warn anymore. I felt a little weird about that but I reasoned it was fair because they never warned me either. War was on.

I was this overly cute tiny little 50 kg girl with beautiful, cute high round boobs, a firm round ass and a very shapely shape, extra small waist, small and straight shoulders, but very strong from the farmhouse living. I knew nothing of that than. I asked my brother why all these guys were touching me. He said: ‘You look like this cute little Guiney pig, they just want to touch it.’ Strangely objectifying. Specifically for a 17 year old kid who as it turned out, had to wait another 7 years to be kissed.

Me starting to drink and not handling that well did not improve my safety. I never told my parents anything about this. I wouldn’t have been able to go out anymore. And then I wouldn’t be able to get drunk anymore, living was already hurting enough for me to want to not be there anymore, and if I was, not wanting to notice that I was.

Here I am 30 years older. Fat, broke, cynical, have this ‘don’t touch me’ attitude. No kids, too dangerous, don’t want to have a chance that I got a girl because I knew I would never be able to protect her. And let’s not forget the drinking. :-/

This is where I am broken. When it comes to dangerous man I have started to rely on my intuition much more. But still if I see something odd I talk in my head to the guy: ‘If somebody is going down it is going to be you.’ Natascha Kampusch said about her abduction: I knew the man in the van wanted to do something very bad to me, but I felt I did not have the right to take care of me and walk away because my mother had just been very angry with me.

And that’s why I have to learn to put socks on my feet when they are cold. Even if I feel bad about myself.

Happy that I quit drinking. Not happy with the shit that shows up. Guess tomorrow is another day.