This is how I live my life then, without any sense of satisfaction. No, nothing satisfies me anymore. Because everyone in my life has gone against my needs so much, I have unfulfillable needs now. This manifests itself, for example, in eating: I don’t feel a limit anymore. So actually I can keep eating all the time. But it doesn’t fulfill me. Usually people think: that was tasty, that’s enough. I think: doesn’t do anything for me, but let me go on with it. Maybe it will come! Hence, of course, those hiccup attacks I wrote about. It’s just to escape the unsatisfied feeling I carry with me. And all has to do with my need to be heard, and to tell people the truth. That’s just been violently rejected in my past. In such a bad way that I’ve lost the satisfaction all together. My comfort zone is already so uncomfortable that it’s hard to take any steps in it at all. And now suddenly scary things start to happen…
People around me are getting weird now: I was at the blood draw, and a complete stranger sat down (I think he had just gone to the toilets). He was talking to me, and I was talking back. And then a moment later I asked him if he had come in before me, or if he had come in later? He didn’t say anything back to me. He only looked at me sternly, too long. I asked if he had lost his tongue? And then he pointed to the nurse’s door and did some sign language. Whereas earlier he had been talking. Totally bizarre. I told him to go before me then. People like that need it the most, I thought, but when he enthusiastically got up and walked to the nurse, who warmly welcomed all the people, I was slightly irritated. Then, when it was my turn, the nurse remained in her room sitting with her back towards me. No cordial cue for me to come in, as she did with the other people. I kept standing by the door because I thought she was still busy. And then after a minute she called out that I could come in. Yeah, tell me earlier, if you can. People start acting all bizarre it seems all of a sudden when they see me. They are all taken over people who can see your aura, and your weaknesses, and then they start testing you. Very annoying.
Here at home there was also something strange: toward nightfall, I got up from the couch and looked outside for a moment. There I saw the boyfriend of the neighbor across the street, sitting right with his chair in front of the window, looking right at me. And he kept doing that. I paid no attention to it and went off to do something else for a moment. And later when I looked back, he was already doing something else. But today, that neighbor across the street was doing exactly the same thing as night fell. She sat with her chair right in front of the window, looking right at me. It scares the hell out of me. I feel no defense at all for such things. And it feels almost supernatural, what they are trying to do to me. Then I feel like that little boy again, who feels unsafe in the world around him, because he suppresses his instincts so much. The world seems very strange, almost surreal, and it really scares me. I’m sure, the man at the blood drawing location was taken over. And I have no doubt, either, that the neighbor across the street and her boyfriend were already taken over as well. But it seems they are even coming closer to me now, with these strange actions.
My sister sent me a message that she was going on vacation for a few days with a friend, and then I chatted with her for a while. We reminisced a bit about how people back then (in the ‘80s-’90s) always acted like you should be ashamed of your feelings, which is currently a lot better in schools. For example, one time I was just sad for no reason. I remember it well. I couldn’t say exactly why. And when the teacher asked why I was crying, I made up that I had pain in my hand (it was a little blue), but that was not the real reason, but only then was it apparently legitimate. Whereas what I needed was someone to ask what had happened. But that didn’t happen. I also read some of the things I had written in my journal as a child for a few weeks. Had kept it for a few days. No more than that, just a few days. But there it is abundantly clear that I totally failed to tell what things did to me. I just said, “Then I did this! Then that! And then we went to eat! And then we went to sleep!” But what I thought and felt about all that was not made clear. Very strange. In clinical therapy in 2003, I really had to learn to describe what the things that happened did to my feelings, because there was just no connection between my feelings and my mind. And that was because of the trauma.
When I saw a video today where little kids had to find their mothers blindfolded from a line of mothers, by feeling with their hands on the mothers’ faces and hands, I broke down again. I thought back again to how I felt as a little boy with my mother. So safe on one hand. But she didn’t stand up for me when my father would get so riled up and beat me or my brother and sister. Which was also such a breach of trust towards her (and towards my father, of course). These memories often come back, as if I can’t let them go, and I always feel like the child who stood idly by and watched everything happen, unable to exert any influence over his surroundings. An absolute hell. And now I just feel weird. It feels scary! I’m anxious! People are acting scary! And I definitely don’t feel safe. My inner world is unsafe. When I still felt somewhat good, I could resist what was happening in the outside world. Then it was all not so unsafe, but I could also make my voice heard. But those paths are not carved out in my personality. I’m already automatically not listened to, so I don’t even try. My inner world is unsafe, not the outer world. And well, that’s really all you have anyway. You carry that with you everywhere you go. That colors all my opinions of the outside world!
It reminds me of the times I used to have a fever when I was very little. And sat with my mother. I was in a kind of dark reality where I was counting, so to speak, and seeing numbers go by, but sometimes the wrong numbers came, and then it had to be all over again. And I couldn’t get out of this. Fortunately, back then I had the warmth and safety of my parents taking care of me, but that surreal feeling is the same as what I have now. Also the times when I was sleepwalking, and was suddenly downstairs with my parents, gave that same indefinable feeling. The feeling that you’re in all kinds of scary spiritual worlds, where you can’t stand what’s happening, and you’ve lost control, so to speak. These are scary realities. To stand your ground in the spiritual worlds (which we visit during dreams, or during fevers, or during out of body experiences) you also need the experience of your aggression. Pushing it away actually causes you to also discover this spiritual side of reality, because it is the death of the spiritual world if you fully embrace your aggression and let it rise to your head. But suppressing your aggression too soon under coercion causes you to be afraid in these spiritual worlds. People often say that heaven is spiritual and hell is material. But for me it was always the other way around. I was always afraid in the spiritual worlds and compensated for that after my clinical therapy with a lot of aggression. Then I was as materialistic as it could be, taking the attitude of, say, Richard Dawkins at all spiritual phenomena: “Bollocks!” “Nonsense!” and more of those dismissive terms. Actually, you then deny half of reality. A balance is always what you have to strive for. But for me that did feel pleasant, because I finally had the extra space I so needed in my head. And how I feel now regularly feels like hell. Because it’s such a repressed state. But it doesn’t have to be! Because that step that I made as a small child, pushing away my aggression, when made at a slightly older age, is perfectly in place. You then get an eye for the spiritual world, and your ego is intact enough for you to be able to handle that reality without feeling fear. That is quite how I would have liked to exper ience it, because in that case, it is perfectly in place. But as I have experienced it now, it is really terrible. It’s very difficult to remain grateful for the things I do have, because I still have a few things I can be content with. Even though, gradually, all the people who have been taken over try to take everything away from me….
