This :-)

‘I was homeless. Now I’m one of the most senior female firefighters in the UK’

With a PhD in psychology.

Because the fire service saw her potential.

(That is an inspiring lack of “class views”.)

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p0766thh

We need lots more of this.

What can YOU do to support women more and spread the news that women are not “defective human beings”?

WTF?

I have an outgoing call listed on my mobile phone that I know that I have not made – with 100% certainty, as it was literally impossible at the time (because the call was international and I had zero call credit at the time).

I do know that my mobile has been cloned.

Has someone made a call pretending to be me, perhaps using recordings for my online course?

The number looks familiar.

Let’s find out whose it is supposed to have been.

Has the cloning criminal’s cloning accidentally backfired and left a record on my phone?

I sometimes get my texts in duplicate, too.

 

 

The UK and women – setting it straight

Most Brits despise women – and I am correcting that view, that women deserve nothing but contempt. (I can dream!)

The past few days, I have been going around telling women that they should be proud of themselves, that they’re human beings, not punching bags or trash, as most have been told most of their lives.

I have also reminded a few men of the fact that Britain is officially the world’s most (openly) hostile place for women and asked a few to teach their sons not to beat up on women. (Figuratively and/or literally.)

Some observations follow.

    • A very impressive young woman along Kingston Road took out her earbuds to listen, told me that she works in the military, locally. Her male colleagues treat her like she’s a 5-year-old. Her digital skills are likely a thousand times better than theirs – in view of what she does – but they have dicks and, hey, that is all that matters, in Britain. She also said that nobody here talks with anybody. That was the first thing she said, actually. (True! People here mainly communicate through violence, deception and threats.) She told me to keep fighting. She does not let any of it get to her – she meant it, I could see that and she impressed the hell out of me. Hats off to her! – but she fully agreed that Britain is horrible in this respect, that women are seen as less than men and as having to be subservient to men. Her I wanted to hug and give a protective yet also very impressive superwoman cloak that she can wear all her life. (It does not need to be visible, such a cloak.)She made my day, but I also felt very sad for the abuse she has to take while at work. I should add that when I addressed her, I was mainly still fuming over the relentless and immensely destructive abuse I have experienced myself, as a female professional and business owner in Britain.
    • One guy along Fratton Road who came out of a model shop and had two sons with him actually LISTENED to me – thank you; you too made my day, but I failed to convey it because I was still too angry – and replied “it’s the Middle East” and I said “no, it’s not the Middle East”. “Britain is worse than the Middle East, worse than African countries, worse than Afghanistan. Brits like beating up on women and for them to stop beating up on women, they first have to admit that Britain is worse than the Middle East.”
    • The next guy, who was walking along Arundel Street and possibly on his way to Asda, dismissed me after wanting to look at my tits. I had deliberately zipped up my coat and when he could not see my tits, I became non-existent to him. Typical Brit? Unfortunately, he will go on to teach the little toddler he had with him that women are no more than tits. His friends will tell the kid that women are mere cunts. Or baby-making machines.

After that, though, after seeing the positive responses I was getting from women, my anger started to dissipate.

    • I walked up to a young couple who were about to cross into Cambridge Road, totally ignored the guy, and the woman smiled and said “thank you!”. It probably came as a great shock to the guy that his dick made him invisible for a change. (Note that I did not walk up to couples if I thought it might make the man angry and take it out on the woman. When one woman responded positively and the guy next to her then chimed in too, I said “No, not you. She!” But his response had indicated that he was not going to take it out on the woman, by the way, otherwise I would have kept my mouth shut. What I did is the reverse of the existing situation in which women are routinely marginalized. Did it make me feel a bit sorry for some of the men? Yes, of course! I mostly addressed women on their own or in groups, without men, to avoid that clash.)
    • I told lots of women to smile, be proud etc, but I didn’t want to confirm the view of women as mere decorations, as smiling puppets. I could see, though, that telling women “you’re a beautiful human being” seemed to work much better than to tell them “you’re a wonderful human being”. One woman said I had made her day. Some women looked at me with a very puzzled look on their faces. Perplexed. I am sure that some of them had never before been told that they are human beings, or to be proud of themselves.

From now on, I want to walk into shops increasingly often and ask for the boss when I see only guys because of course, the boss is a female. I will ask the woman for advice, address women instead of men, whenever I have a choice.

(Fucking hell. I thought I was done with this kind of shit in the 1980s! And it wasn’t this bad back then in the Netherlands. This is more like the Netherlands in the 1950s and 1960s.)

I am going to set the record straight a tiny little bit by reversing the situation/attitude on the days that I am not overcome with fear, anger or anything else negative myself. Here in Britain, a woman’s life is usually a life of fear, one way or another.

I want to do something about Britain’s viciousness and its downright medieval attitude toward women, but the issues are much broader than that. I think that empowering women will do the most good in this respect, but also, my heart bleeds for all the women here who truly believe that they are worth so much less than men. They’ve been hearing that crap all their lives, over and over and over again.

A few days ago, I wrote that they send death threats and rape threats to educated women here. They do. But they do something else too, and that is even more revealing. If, as a woman, you stand up for your rights, Brits are quick to say things like “she was probably sexually abused as a child” (which I was not). After all, a “real woman” happily allows herself to be used as punching bag and mentally stamped into the ground without even the slightest frown? (Fuck that! Pun intended.)

    • Unfortunately, a few hours after my most recent demonstrative walk around the town, I spotted a baby in a car in the blazing sun, to my utter horror. At first, I literally could not believe it so I walked around the car to see if I was imagining things. Nope. When I looked into the car, I spotted a toddler as well, next to the baby. The toddler was lower in the car, and that is why I had missed him, when I looked at the car from the other side. I had no idea whose car it was, but I had just seen a woman walk toward a house, so I knocked on that door. No response. I stood next to the car, making myself deliberately highly visible, raising attention for the situation, not knowing what else to do as I didn’t have my phone with me. Then I spotted another mother with two tiny kids asked her if she could phone, perhaps. She was not too eager. I decided to knock on the door again, then the door did open, and I asked her if the kids were hers. Yes, she said. I told her that that was irresponsible, that those kids were about to die. (Temperature in a car in the blazing sun goes up very rapidly, even with the windows at a crack. You can’t even do this to a dog without going to prison.) I got a shitload of insults from the mother of the kids. “Go away you cow” was the only thing I could make out; the rest was just a soup of vowels to me, as usual. When I later went back with my mobile to take a photo of the number plate – as I stupidly had not had a phone with me – I got more yelling, this time from another woman. But at least the doors were wide open now and, hopefully, the kids were out of the car. That’s all I wanted. That those kids were safe.That mother is not fit to be a mother. Anyone who has ever been in a car in the blazing sun knows that, and should also know that children are likely to be much more vulnerable than adults. (This is in favour of the idea that maybe in the future, parents will require a licence before they are allowed to have kids.) But knowing how Britain works in practice – knowing that both of these women are victims of a system that abuses them – I probably have more understanding for them than they realize.Anyway, I think I put the fear of god into the mother in question, and that that made her shower me with insults. Good. She should never pull such an irresponsible stunt again, then, endangering the lives of her children. And she should cut back on the booze. She was probably 25 or so and her skin looked older than mine. And I am close to 60. I looked much healthier than she did. But this is what the British system does to lots of men and women. It makes them escape into alcohol because there is nothing else, and no hope.

 

Manjoo was right

UN inspector Rashida Manjoo’s analysis a few years ago was spot on.

In my nearly 15 years in Britain, this is my own experience and impression:

Women should be seen, not heard. Be decorative, keep their mouths shut.  They are assessed for their what the Brits call fuckability and their willingness to obey men.

Women who are not docile enough get bullied into submission in Britain. They terrorize them relentlessly, to try and break them, make them pliable and obedient. Scared and timid. The way a proper Englishwoman should behave.

They’re fuckable disposable punching bags in Britain. Also when Brits compare them to flowers. Especially when they do. It declares them useable, disposable. It is something to stamp on, something of which you can chop the heads off, like you see in the parks, sometimes.

And how they detest educated women! Because they can’t stamp them into the ground as easily. So they send those death threats and rape threats. For example, if they suggest putting a woman’s face on a new pound note. Sometimes, they actually do kill them, too. Because they are considered “women who do not know their place”.

While they point the finger at other nations and people from those nations, and at Muslims!

Most Brits are members of the Mu Mux Man – the misogynist version of the KKK – and proud of it.

I am NOT a fuckable disposable punching bag who should keep her mouth shut and adopt an attitude of subservient submission to men! I am a human being!

I am sick of needing permission in triplicate from three British males to just be allowed to BE. I effectively died on 20 December 2004. From then on, my life’s been that of a lab primate, more or less. It sucks! It’s so messed up!

I am sick of constantly being threatened for being female and “not knowing my place as a female”. I am sick of having to live in fear all the time. I’ve said it many times before: It’s better to be dead than in Britain (certainly if you’re an emancipated educated woman).

And me standing up for myself as a human being does NOT mean that I should be put into a straightjacket to accomplish my docility! (That too is still pretty common in Britain, I bet, but I haven’t actually looked into it.)

But, is Holland going the same way? Going back a bazillion years in time instead of evolving further? I hope not! Krijgen we nou ook Britse toestanden in Nederland, godverdegodver?

 

 

 

Portsmouth Police breaking the law again

They don’t have the time and resources to solve crimes against individuals, unless those individuals have been killed, but they do still have the time and resources to send two or three cars to follow me and hunt me through the city to play PacMan.

They love playing PacMan with migrants and with women.

They first did this to me in 2009. February it was.

Of course, when you call them out on it, they always say that they don’t have the time and resources for that kind of crap.

So on my way back, I walked up to the central police station in Portsmouth, and addressed its CCTV camera:

You. Need. To. Observe. The. Law.

The law!

 

That’s the kind of police we have in Britain – barbaric, lawless and abusive – for which we pay through our council tax. They’re straight out of a film of police brutality and incompetence of the wild-west US in the past.

Two or three police cars were following me all over town again yesterday evening, slowing down when they passed me, backing up and returning when I took a left or right, etc.

It’s happened many times before.

And this kind of crap takes up most of their time. Hunting down citizens who dare report crimes and who dare stand up against the utterly lawless British police. They don’t seem to do anything else but this.

I have on occasion stood by on purpose myself to serve as possible witness in police brutality cases when I saw them hunt other people. But they are too clever to attack people in plain public view, I am sure.

We pay for this harassment through our council tax. We pay for it ourselves!

Portsmouth has the highest CCTV density of the UK, so yes, police can hunt anyone through the city, in retaliation or just for fun.

I also got a creep on a bicycle after me, along Albert Road, to tell me that women deserve to go hungry, should not be allowed to own any property of any kind, should not be allowed to work and should not be allowed to earn a living, or even be healthy and happy and that they should generally keep their mouths shut.

I told him it was the 21st century, that the middle ages were a long time ago and I crossed the road. The kid was not even half my age. He should apologize to all the women he owes his existence to, starting with his mother, but he won’t see it that way, clearly. In his eyes, women are lower than cattle. Usable and disposable. Not worth shit.

In case you wonder what the hell I am still doing in this shitty hell hole, well, I’ve tried to escape four times already, and managed to make it to Amsterdam twice, but each time this was cunningly sabotaged by my stalkers (see home page). I also sometimes foolishly think that I can help make things better here, simply through my presence (as someone from a more developed, more civilized country, more modern country, more relaxed country; even though that country is not my favourite, I am not blind to its advantages).

Also, I had formally raised the issue about the problems with local police this week. Some retaliation was to be expected.

There is a French woman in Devon that British police also used to hunt and demonize. I don’t know how she is doing these days. I’ve read about her in the newspapers.

This photo below shows you what my door looks like when I am not in, these days. Three locks on the inside, warning note on the outside and a barricade in front of it, to stop, eh, anonymous elements, that is, apparently currently my immediate downstairs neighbour – who came flying out of his flat again when he heard me come up the stairs last night – from shimmying the locks and carrying out nasty crap in my flat – which has been going on since 2011, with the approval of Portsmouth Police.

He had threatened me on the stair case a few days ago – which scared me, and made me retreat, which he liked.

His dog bit me so badly months ago that my arm/wrist sometimes still hurts as a result (and I had the vague impression that the incident was not entirely accidental, that the dog had actually been sent, released or directed somehow, to charge me) and who damaged the coat I was wearing next time I saw the dog, when it came flying out of his flat when I went down the stairs.

The only reason why I haven’t pressed the problem with the dog – I could have, successfully, as my arm had swollen up grotesquely and the bite had broken skin – is that the dog would get blamed whereas the neighbour is the real problem. He is really nasty, mean, vicious and maybe half my age and a really big guy. The kind of guy who would easily let the dog take the fall for his own nastiness.

And who could I have pressed it with? I would have needed to make it a civil case. Time-consuming and costly.

 

 

 

Be gentle with yourself

Life is about growing and learning and never stopping.

And about looking after yourself. Be gentle with yourself and forgive yourself for what you don’t like about yourself or for what you could have done better.

For myself, I could have done some things better last Tuesday, when I was talking to a group of 14/15-year-olds, but as I can’t change that, there is no point on dwelling on it.

I was struck by how each of the youngsters representing their groups during debates (public speaking while being recorded on video!) had something else to give. Each had a different quality that was uniquely theirs and which they contributed to the whole.

Some were very passionate, others uniquely authentic, truly believing in what they said. Some sought to connect with individual members in the audience and turn what they were saying more into a dialogue than a speech. Some were looking inward for strength, others outward, and all of them had guts.

Some had some more practising to do than others, but they all at least had a little seed in them from which a beautiful plant can grow in the future if it has not already started yet.

They also all had made posters. I told them “Less is more” which I need to remind myself of all the time too, when I am writing.

A poster is a visual tool. One image says more than a thousand words, and five well-chosen words can convey more than a thousand all jammed together. Step into someone else’s shoes, a stranger’s and walk into the room, looking at your own poster.

It made me remember when I made my first poster. About the world’s first measurements of REE profiles in Antarctic seawater.

I was 30 or 31 at the time, preparing to go to a conference in Germany. I worked through the night, printing off the various images etc that I needed at the university, went home, ate my delicious cold cheeseburger with relish (figuratively speaking), slept for an hour, showered, then went to the train station.

Upon arrival in Germany, we were greeted with champagne! I had to be very careful to limit that to one glass only, and drink that very carefully! I was too tired to handle more than one glass as I’d had to stand most of the way to Germany, in a packed train. Heck, I had trouble handling that one glass. I remember hunting for some German rye bread that they were serving with it, to give the champagne some support.

I guess it was a little bit like that for these youngsters too. An adventure, not knowing what exactly to expect, taking it all in stride.

The brain has a natural negativity bias. Don’t let that get to you.

My hacker(s) and I

It appears that we may slowly be (16 March:) still are not developing an understanding.

As the constant freezing of my PC and his unexpected butting in was very disruptive, a week ago or so, I suggested setting a schedule or some general rules. Not rigid rules, more like a guideline.

He seems to like it, but when I am late in the morning, he lets me know that he is very angry by messing up my screen incredibly (controlling the monitor) and rebooting the PC non-stop for about 15 minutes. He can also tell my PC’s fan to gear up. He hacks hardware too, yes.

This morning, he arrived at 8:30, causing my PC to freeze, requiring me to flip the UK-style socket’s power switch, and he appeared to leave my PC at around 9:50. At around 11:15, he seemed to be back, but it is more likely that he’s been logged into my system since 8:30. He can be present without me noticing it, and sometimes believes that he’s tricked me into believing that he’s gone, lol. After 10+ years of this, I have more or less gotten used to it, though on some days, it becomes too much and I yell at the computer and/or at one of the other people involved in this circus.

(He doesn’t want me to post the little video I made. Keeps deleting it.)

My PC sometimes also freezes for other reasons, however, and I am aware of that. The site of The Independent almost always makes my PC freeze.

The more I think about it, after having skimmed a few papers on the topic, the more convinced I am becoming that yes, he has a form of Asperger’s. (16 March: But how would I know? NPD apparently can look exactly the same, and I doubt that Asperger’s goes with taunting.) (19 March: No, apparently, it’s got nothing to do with autism.)

People with Asperger’s too have a problem with theory of mind. This can make them appear to be devoid of empathy, hence make them appear to have NPD and/or psycho/sociopathy. It is hard for him to assess how some of his actions and behaviours affect other people. He seems to see those as independent of himself, the way one would look at a computer problem when a computer is malfunctioning.

He does not think of the “cups of coffee” he throws “into other people’s keyboards”, so to speak. He has a tendency to take over my entire life (also in terms of getting into my head, of course, just like it is hard not to think of water when you just fell into a pond).

As some of you know, the story is a lot more complicated than this, but figuring out individual components is certainly helpful.

I am the one who has to live with this, after all, so I have to do the best I can to make my life as liveable as possible regardless of whatever the hacker’s doing, or any of his associates.

It’s taught me that we don’t all speak the same language. Some of us use music as language, others visual art, and his language is, well, coding, I guess. Or the general way he interacts with software and hardware.

I think I can often tell whether he is in my PC or not by things like how quickly some or all web pages load and refresh (the ones he wants access to, either to control what I get to see or do or to add messages from him), and whether they load once, or two times.

In 2011, I took a photo of the hacker, by the way. I know who he is, what he looks like, roughly where he lives and what is name appears to be.

I also know that he is not doing all of this on his own. There is someone else involved, with a different condition, who sometimes does terrible things, partly to support and perpetuate his own hero role, obscuring what is really going on – like someone who pushes you into the canal so that he can pretend he is rescuing you and who quickly pushes you back when nobody’s looking, and should someone notice, then he’ll use it as proof of how clumsy you are – and partly to try and drive me crazy, to frustrate me and hurt me. At least, that is how it often comes across on the receiving end. Not always.

Someone – mostly the hacker, usually on behalf of the other person, I suspect, or my immediate downstairs neighbour on behalf of them – has also been going into my flat when I am out, for years, until I managed to stop it – AS, 16 April 2019: temporarily, as it turned out later – by installing an extra lock. Sometimes he took something, or he returned something he took earlier. At other times, he moved something, left a note, destroyed something, or hurt an animal. He – or his brother – has also killed animals. His theme is decapitated pigeons, though I also suspect him of having killed all the stray cats here where I live in the past year or so.

The first time I knew for sure that someone had been in my flat was on Good Friday, I think it was in 2015 (I can check), when something had been moved, something relatively heavy. Up to that point, I only sometimes had had a strange feeling, but it had never occurred to me that someone could actually be shimmying the locks and going into my flat.

Neither of them can help doing this. I understand that.

This is part of the story of how I got into bioethics and inclusivity.

I’ve learned a lot from it.

Portsmouth women

Are you a woman in Portsmouth (England) and a target of sadistic stalking?

“Eh, of what ?”

If you follow this link: https://www.le.ac.uk/press/ebulletin/archive/speaker_sheridan.html, you can find out more about the phenomenon “sadistic stalking” (forensic psychologist Lorraine Sheridan’s British work). At the bottom of this web page, you can find the main points.

It concerns a highly manipulative pattern of positive and negative behaviours (which can lead to trauma-bonding, better known as the Stockholm syndrome) and the gradual but steady loss of the victim’s control over almost all areas of her life. It is usually carried out by someone the stalker barely knows or may not even know at all.

Victims of sadistic stalking are generally slowly but very deliberately isolated by their stalkers, their lives often torn to shreds in the course of years.

What does this mean in real life?

That you’re not alone! There are up to 45 women in Portsmouth right now – maybe more – who are in the same kind of nightmare as you are!

According to National Stalking Advocacy Service Paladin (see this page: https://paladinservice.co.uk/key-facts-and-figures/ ), “data from the Crime Survey of England and Wales shows up to 700, 000 women are stalked each year (2009-12)”. That could include 90,300 victims of sadistic stalking, then, if 12.9% of those cases concern sadistic stalking, as in Sheridan’s study.

The size of the combined populations of England (53.01 million in 2011) and Wales (approximately 3,063,456 in 2011) was 56,063,456. 700,000 stalked women represent a little over 1% of that total population, but that population also contains minors and men. So let’s say that about 0.5% of women is stalked.

(This excludes stalking that is 100% cyberstalking.)

There is almost no help for these women. The digital age has made it much more expensive and complicated for police to investigate stalking. As sadistic stalking tends to involve one or more unknown stalkers (and is often very subtle and skilled as well as engineered to make the victim sound crazy), police officers particularly cannot afford to allocate resources to investigating such cases.

If I assume that stalking is evenly distributed geographically, which it won’t be as some stalkers are more likely to operate in surroundings that make stalking easier, then I arrive at the following estimate for Portsmouth, where I live.

Portsmouth’s population in 2010 was 207,100. The working age population was 145,000. If I take 50% of that as the number of women, I end up with up to about 360 stalked women in Portsmouth alone. If 12.9% of those cases concern sadistic stalking, as in Sheridan’s study, then about 45 women in Portsmouth were targeted by sadistic stalkers in 2010/2011.

Sadistic stalking can go on for decades, and nobody can help you put a stop to it. There is a lot of fancy talk out there, but in reality, when you are being stalked like this, you are largely on your own.

You may even run into the bullshit opinion that there are no stalked women, only psychotic and hysteric women and attention-seeking women.

It’s not true that only young and attractive women get stalked. You can get stalked because you remind a man of his mother of because you are having a bad hair day.

So in real life, you may find yourself being forced to live a nightmare, on your own, your health likely to decline under the prolonged stress. You can develop things such as skin infections (fungal or bacterial).

You may even suffer a heart attack as you may often be confronted with acts of cruelty. This can be shocking.

I am no longer often angry with stalkers because I’ve come to realize that they can’t help what they are doing. It’s complicated. We provide medical care to people with kidney problems, but not to people with brain differences that can for example be caused by severe childhood abuse. Apparently, such differences in the brain can result in stalking behaviours like these.

But here is the thing.

If 45 or so women in Portsmouth alone are being targeted by sadistic stalkers, we should be able to make a fist – or rather, a circle of connected hands – and support each other. That way, we could instantly put a stop to one of the key objectives of sadistic stalking – isolating the victim.

You may have been hiding the fact that you are being stalked because when you talk about it, you usually sound like a complete lunatic yet when people believe you, they become scared.

Friends and acquaintances disappear and those who don’t disappear by themselves will be pushed away by the stalkers. They may call friends, relatives and acquaintances, pretend to be someone else and give them a reason to stay away from you.

You may feel guilty about being stalked, even though you know that you did nothing to deserve it.

You may feel like you should have been able to prevent it, somehow, even though on a rational level, you know that there is nothing you could have done differently that would have made a difference.

You may be experiencing disbelief. “This can’t possibly be happening. So it must be me. Am I merely imaging things? Am I going crazy?” This may be more common at the start of being stalked, when you notice things that make no sense, things that – so you think – can’t really be true. Such as people taking photos of you, (some of) your postal mail disappearing or the feeling that someone has been in your home, or just a vague indescribable feeling of uneasiness that you can have when someone has been in your home but you don’t realize it.

And if you are a foreigner, you may not even be sure if what is happening could be “British humour” or not. British humour is often slightly sadistic, too, after all. Designed to trigger “Schadenfreude”. Are anonymous people around playing pranks on you, perhaps? You may also find yourself tripped up by British slang that you didn’t recognize as such.

You are bound to feel alone and powerless and you may often walk around with a frown on your face, looking and feeling angry or scared or frustrated or bewildered. You may have become a bit zombie-like – because that is what prolonged powerlessness can do, for various reasons. Some people may think that you’re really odd, for instance, people at supermarket tills.

But you are not alone.

Earlier today, before I started writing this page, I passed a woman on my way to the Aldi and I wondered “Is she one of them?” I looked at her, deliberately, and she looked back and smiled. She was about my age.

A few years ago, the Portsmouth News reported the suicide of a 54-year-old women in Southsea. I was 55 at the time. I am still wondering if she too was a victim of sadistic stalking. Stalkers may target several people simultaneously. Perhaps it helps obscure what they are doing, makes them look less fixated on one person.

So let’s find each other and start supporting each other. All 45 of us or whatever the number for Portsmouth is in reality, and many of the others too, for instance those who have delusional fixation stalkers or stalkers who are a mix of these two stalking types, and others as well.

The other two stalking behaviours in Sheridan’s taxonomy (ex-partner stalking/harassment and infatuation harassment) appear to be a bit different, often less secretive, and more clearly to see for others.

With some stalkers, telling them off in a stern tone works, but it can encourage other stalkers.

By the way, the advice to have no contact with a stalker has become meaningless in the digital age. There is no way of knowing that “Carl Patterson” who you don’t know is really, say, “Pete Jefferson” who you do know and if you suspect it, you will sound paranoid as this example is so obvious. If the example is less obvious, you will still sound paranoid.

Apart from that, you will be trying to make your life work in spite of being stalked and you can’t do that without trying to find out who and what you are dealing with, and finding out whether it might be possible to negotiate.

Let’s connect. We could meet every Saturday at 11:00 or 14:00 in the HIVE at the public library in Guildhall Square. I don’t know yet if I will get around to starting this myself in Portsmouth, but if I do, I will post details on this page later.

Women and men in other locations can do this too, of course. Track each other down and start supporting each other.

I am aware of the risk that meeting like this might also attract stalkers or, say, people with narcissistic personality disorder who feel better about themselves when they hear about other people’s misery, but I think those of us who are being stalked and certainly those who have been stalked for many years have learned enough about stalking behaviours to recognize any wolves in our midst. And we could set up a safety net for ourselves, too. Plus, there can be safety in being visible to the public.

Stalkers don’t necessarily mean harm, but it’s impossible to know what is going through the mind of anyone who is stalking you. That creates a big chunk of the problem, of the life-stealing in stalking in general.

Once we join hands, however, we can say “We’ve got this.” and feel strong and in control again, instead of “possibly crazy”, powerless and vulnerable.

I mean, heck, isn’t this an obvious solution?!

That said, please read the disclaimer at the bottom of this web page. I cannot protect anyone from anything, nor guarantee anything, and cannot be held liable for the results of any decisions you make or don’t make or steps you take or don’t take.

I wish everyone well, and I wish nobody any harm of any kind.

Some general advice follows, however.

  1. The first thing to do if you have any type of stalker? Secure your home. Change locks, add extra locks, make shimmying the locks take up so much time that it becomes very unattractive.
  2. Second thing to do? Stop posting anything online. Do not share any wishes, hopes and frustrations etc online. No photos of your home etc either. No remarks about friends or relatives.
    • Impossible if you are your own boss. A solution is to hire someone to handle social media for you. Keep that away from your own computers and e-mail addresses. Outsource it. Do not postpone this if you can afford it. It may safeguard your income. Once you’ve lost your income, it’s too late.
    • Another complication is not being able to ignore e-mails etc from strangers if you are your own boss. Here too, outsourcing may help and it is worth the expense. Use one general e-mail address for enquiries and outsource the handling of e-mails to that address.
    • Do the same thing for phone calls. Engage a company that can answer your phone for you. Use one number for general inquiries, and then redirect your calls to that secretarial service.
  3. The third thing to do is to make it hard for your stalker to isolate you. As soon as you know or suspect that you are being stalked, tell friends, colleagues, relatives and acquaintances about it, calmly. (Don’t explain in detail what is going on. Merely say that you have an anonymous stalker. That’s right, even if you have a suspicion of who it might be or know who it is.) Tell them not to pay any attention to anyone contacting them and for example claiming to be a good friend who wants to help you with something behind your back. That way, they don’t end up gaslighting you too, without knowing it, which would be likely to make you distance yourself from them. Tell them to call you – they know your voice – if they receive strange e-mails from you and tell them not to give up if they find it hard to reach you by phone or e-mail. Dead/disconnected line, weird message on phone line, no response to e-mails. Also, if you don’t do this now, the isolation you’ll eventually experience can make you want to share things online, or even vent online, which makes you more vulnerable and gives the stalker more of what he or she wants. If you do slip up, delete it as soon as you can.)

 

PS
(19 March 2019)
If you are looking for legal recourse, you have three options, namely public prosecution, private prosecution or civil proceedings.

You can forget about public prosecution. You need to cooperation of police and CPS for that and you are never going to get that unless you’ve been physically attacked (and/or killed) and by then, it’s too late. Your chances of successful private prosecution are slim as well, as you need permission for that and it’s rarely granted. Civil recovery is your best option. The point? Spare yourself the effort of doing what is usually recommended and the ensuing immense frustration. British police are not going to help you, and a 2017 report by two British watchdogs agrees. Police had failed all the victims in all the cases that the report had looked at.

Please see the disclaimer. I wrote the above on the basis of my personal experiences in Britain. I am not a lawyer.

More later. I am writing a paper on the topic.

I love coffee

Note: This is an upcycled older post. Aldi later upgraded the packaging. See thumbnail on the right.

This post is about coffee in Britain.

Many people in my home country have a hard time accepting that Britain really is the way it is (when you live here, which isn’t the same as it is for tourists). It is not “just like the Netherlands except that the people in England (as the Dutch usually call Britain) speak English, drink tea, are reserved and prim and proper and walk around swinging walking sticks and bowler hats” or some version of that.

Most Dutch people blindly assume that everything in Britain works the exact same way as things work in the Netherlands. I can’t blame them. I too had no idea how vastly different Britain is relative to my home country, or the United States.

The people in my home country are also often convinced that the coffee here is bad, however. True, but that applies only to the cheap instant stuff.

Ground coffee – real coffee – is actually very good and, in my opinion, even much better in Britain than in the Netherlands.

I haven’t had an electric coffee maker in many years. After another one had broken down, I started making coffee with a separate filter and a large thermos. I ended up with much better-tasting coffee and it landed me absolutely perfect coffee once, so good it was stunning. The amount of coffee, the way I poured the water and its temperature must have been just right for my coffee to turn out so exceptional that morning.

Nowadays, I make my coffee in a French press, inspired by a remark made by a Spanish professor at the National Oceanography Centre in Southampton in 2005. If I accidentally drop a French press and the glass breaks, I can order a replacement glass.

I have several favourites. Taylors of Harrogate makes great coffee, which sells at roughly £3.75 a bag these days, I think, but it is often on offer. I think that one bag contains 227 grams. It comes in many varieties, but not every supermarket has all varieties, and I have my favourites. The varieties occasionally change, too. Places like Asda, Tesco and Sainsbury sell Taylors.

Aldi – which is a much more luxurious supermarket in Britain than in the Netherlands – sells really great coffee too. People actually started going to Aldi for no other reason than its coffee. When coffee prices started to rise a few years back, Aldi tried to compromise on the quality of the coffee. I wrote to them about it. Others must have done too because Aldi later compromised again, but this time by making the bags smaller. They now contain 200 grams of great-tasting coffee instead of 227 grams.

Its “Rich Java” is so popular it is often sold out. 100% arabica coffee. “Deep, rich, syrupy flavour with subtle notes of chocolate”. Rainforest alliance certified. Strength: 5.

I tried one of the other ones, but Rich Java was much better and kept selling out.

Aldi must have noticed, because it replaced one of the other varieties (I think it was “Ethiopian”, which I didn’t like) and introduced “Peruvian”. 100% arabica coffee. “Bold bodied with red fruit notes and a caramel finish”. Rainforest alliance certified (sustainable livelihoods, protecting the environment). Strength: 4.

I love them both! At times I prefer the Java and at other times the Peruvian. The Peruvian is a bit more refined, more subtle. The Java could be Brazilian. (It isn’t. Java is part of Indonesia and that is where this coffee comes from.) It plants its feet firmly on the ground and says “Here I am!”.

£1.99 for 200 grams for each of them.

Did you know that coffee has tremendous health benefits, too, for most people? It can do wonders for the liver, for example.

Calling people with NPD

Narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) is a problematic neurological condition. It shows up on brain scans.

You are not deliberately creating it, you have it, and you are not deliberately refusing to cure yourself. I know that.

In your anonymous comments, please leave notes about how society might be able to help you be your best selves and hurt less inside.

Your comments will not be published instantly. That is the standard setting on this site.

(I will likely remove comments from people who do not have NPD, and who need to vent.)

I genuinely want to hear from all of you, that is, read your comments, added from your computer, tablet, or phone, not just from the people who believe that they own me or used to own me in the past).

Have any of you tried medications to do with oxytocin, or Prozac, or something else? Did that work for you? Do you have any other conditions that are related to this?

Have you pretended to be, for example, merely deeply depressed (which you probably often are), in order to receive any support? How did that work out?

Because for you, talking openly about what you need is usually a no no, so you need to do it anonymously.

Because the world is mostly obsessed with the negative aspects of your condition (understandably).

And because to my knowledge, shrinks don’t really know what to do with you, how to support you, either.

Because all of this makes me curious about what we might be able to do that might really make a difference.

Because if you hurt less inside, that will make the world a better place for all of us. Because a lot of what you do says “THIS MUCH is how I hurt inside, but I can’t let myself feel that, so I am making you feel it instead”.

By the way, it is my understanding that reading “The Little Prince” by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry can help. Because it can help you learn how adults are supposed to behave, I think. But also because it may comfort you.

 

 

 
It is my personal impression that if you have NPD, having friends in your life with a strong zen attitude and a thorough awareness of the condition, and perhaps also particularly someone who can serve as your business manager, depending on your situation, can make a big difference.

If you want to know what Britain is like under the shiny layer of gloss

In many other countries, Britain’s shiny layer of gloss or deceptive image of the “prim, proper and demure” or soft and gentle is accepted as WYSIWYG. But Britain is not WYSISYG. The great Brexit entertainment show surely has made many people abroad cotton on by now. This is Britain as usual, well, most of the time.

Want another example?

People who do not have the British nationality can be grabbed anywhere and at any time, to be locked up indefinitely, for no good reason at all, often making them lose their jobs and homes, even those who’ve been here for fifty years or longer, and sometimes leaving them without documentation/passports (if the Home Office keeps it).

People – Brits – are locked up because they protested peacefully, against fracking or against deportation. And for many years it has already been the case that if Britons show up at a demonstration anywhere, their mere presence can get them into a police file and often tracked and hassled wherever they go in Britain after that. (There’ve been court cases related to the latter. That’s how I know.)

Here is a film about that part of Britain.

You can see what a farce this is because if they really had been considered terrorists, they would have been held on remand, not been left free to roam the country.

They wouldn’t have been allowed to leave the court after the verdict either.

This is about nipping protest in the bud, just like the food bank organizations and the BBC have gotten whistled back to heel so often.

For me, it is heart-warming and so encouraging to see that people like the Stansted 15 exist in Britain.

You see how gutted they are after the verdict. That, that alone, was the aim of this farce. To whip the souls of British citizens back into obedience to the state.

Creepy.

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Asperger’s in practice

I have no experience with autistic people – as far as I know – and have been trying to develop some understanding, very slowly. I just ran into a top artist with Asperger’s and this documentary seems to show a lot of how it works in practice.

People thought she had brain damage. People thought “she couldn’t do much”. People kept telling her that.

The funny thing is that the Asperger’s makes her a “better” or talented artist. It is why she makes audiences cry. That and her musical professionalism.

(I did not know much about her, no, had never watched anything before, other than one short video clip once. I watched another one this evening in which someone talked about her emotional connection to the songs.)

Human diversity occurs along a very broad spectrum, with lots of overlap and variation, and there is still so much we don’t know about that. And all the minuses seem to come with their own pluses, one way or another.

A bit of inspiration

Some things can’t ever be fixed or changed, but some can be made better or at least less bad, and even in cases when most people think it is not possible, like in this video below.

You can see the utterly amazed look in the animal’s eyes, before the vets put the cone on, with the gently wagging tail on the background. The “holy shit, I can’t believe it, they solved this for me?” realization. Also with the cone on. Suddenly, in the dog’s mind, she has a life again, a future. And she forgets all about the past…

Am I paranoid?

Many people are still incredibly naive when it comes to using modern technology. Their awareness is literally decades behind.

Last year, someone accused me, in a rather vicious manner, of being paranoid because of the disclaimers I use in e-mails. As a result, I decided to include in my disclaimers that I follow the example and advice of the UK’s Information Commissioner’s Office (ICO), which uses a similar disclaimer.

When I try to talk about issues like these, some people mistakenly believe that I am accusing them of being hackers and spoofers, because they don’t understand the concepts. Once, when I tried to improve my security by adding encryption to my e-mail, someone wrote back to me that the person’s boyfriend had said that PGP encryption was a virus so thanks but no thanks. This, however, concerns people who aren’t running businesses.

If you have a business that provides services, and you use e-mail, computers and a phone, you have a professional obligation to be somewhat aware of the risks associated with digital or electronic equipment, in my opinion, if only to acknowledge that you may not be able to protect your business sufficiently. It’s not just your own interests, but also your clients’ interests that are at stake here.

Businesses all over the world lose lots of money because of spoofed e-mails, tricking them into for example paying bills into accounts that belong to scammers. News sites such as the BBC’s and the Guardian’s feature this from time to time.

It is a myth that only huge businesses like Sony get tricked or hacked. It is a myth that only people in their 80s and 90s get scammed or hacked. It is also a myth that most women barely know where to find their computer’s off/on switch.

I invite all the disbelievers out there to take a look at Ivan Liljeqvist’s LinkedIn profile. Ivan is a programmer, a developer, a cryptocurrency analyst. This is what it says today (screen shot):

The irony

Many years ago, I was one the very few people who used e-mail. Some of my friends were extremely resistant to the idea of e-mail.

Years later, it was those initially so reluctant people who could not stop using e-mail. No matter how many times I begged them to call me instead of e-mail me, I could no longer get them to call me.

Oh, the irony.

That is how you learn who your friends are and who aren’t.

If you turn yourself into a bunch of words on my screen, you could be anybody – or nobody.

Humans are more than just a bunch of words on a screen.

Talking to each other is so much more efficient. You can instantly catch and clear up any misunderstandings that may not even become evident until much later when all you choose to be is a bunch of words on a screen. And you can smile together. A trouble shared is a trouble halved – or so they say – but a shared smile definitely becomes amplified.

 

A story about a concentration camp or two

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Britain has a bunch of them too. And people can be in them indefinitely. Kinda like at Guantánamo Bay. An American concentration camp on an island in the Caribbean.

Shit.

The Netherlands used to have them too. (No longer, I think.) When I was still living in Amsterdam, a fire tore through one of them.

Why I sometimes call British culture “paranoid” or “narcissistic”

If someone writes to you “with the greatest respect”, isn’t it paranoid or an indication of extremely low self-esteem, hence possibly narcissistic, to believe that it means “I think you’re an idiot”?

That’s not “sarcasm”, folks.  That’s bonkers. Nuts.

YouGov survey: 
British sarcasm 'lost on Americans':

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-46846467

So when a local shop owner suddenly started repeating “Don’t worry about it” a few years ago, I had no idea that it meant “Piss off!”, and I still have no idea why he suddenly wanted me to piss off either. I must have said something that he thought was intended as the exact opposite of what I said and meant?

Interesting is that before I moved from Amsterdam to the USA, I received some warnings/advice about Americans that turned out not to apply at all – for instance about the dinner invitations as mentioned in the BBC article – but I did later discover that some of it applies with regard to southern England.

For people in countries that don’t have English as their main language, the fact that British English is so vastly different from other forms of English can be really confusing.

There is also a thing in British English that we foreigners sometimes call hinting, and that people from other countries don’t get either.

I am not so sure that what the BBC writes about the British use of sarcasm applies to Scotland, by the way.

I do remember one occasion when I did catch the sarcasm. A year or so ago, I walked into a store to ask something and addressed someone whose last words to me before I left the store again were “and we’ll sort you out”.

What she meant was that they would teach me a lesson.

I suspect that I know what it was about and if I am right about that, then she considered the items she was selling “old junk”, felt that I had been comparing her to old junk by something I said (perhaps indicating that she was not very happy with what she was doing, even though I think she was an owner, not an employee).

This is typically British. Anywhere else, you’d be considered paranoid or otherwise not well in the head to have thoughts like these. Here, however, you are considered not well in the head – slow on the uptake – if you don’t get this stuff.

See how upside down the world can be and how tricky cultural differences are?

 

Criminalization of brain-based health conditions

Here we see how a young woman’s mental health crisis got her into handcuffs and in front of a judge for having inconvenienced the public.

Police criminalized this woman. That’s how stigmas work.

Now compare that situation with that of, say, a pregnant woman whose waters break in the middle of a supermarket? Or hey, who cramps while driving a car on the way to the hospital, skids, spins and ends up blocking traffic?

If police did not discriminate, the latter woman should be handcuffed and dragged in front of a judge as well.

Would police do that?

And what would police do with a woman who ends up in a diabetic crisis while travelling on public transport?

Or with anyone daring to have a heart attack in public?