Change of tack

On the one hand, I want to document the weirdness that is going on in my life so that there may be people “out there” who know that this is going on and, also, to protect myself against any potential negative side effects on my life of other people’s neurodiversity.

By the latter, I mean that while I accept people with NPD and do not blame them for having NPD, I also know – have learned – that having NPD can make a person feel very vulnerable and also very vengeful.

Locally, I have been through a large number of increasingly high-impact “set-up days”. Abroad, I know someone else who’s admitted to “always scheming”.

On the other hand, I don’t want to whine and whine and whine and whine and worry and worry. I want my life back – or at least have A life again (and that statement is totally unrelated to the lockdowns) and whining and whining and worrying is not going to accomplish that.

So I will do both. I don’t want to be dismissed locally as “a foreign older woman who gets delusional under stress” and/or “who merely imagines that she went to university but obviously never did”.

The logical thing to do with all of this is admit and accept that I am now an inclusivity, (neuro)diversity and equality maven.

Dear Lee / Charles / Charlie / Charley

I sometimes get the impression that you think that if you make it impossible for me to make a living, I will move in with you.

This is not how it works.

If you continue to make it impossible for me to support myself, the last thing I would do is move in with ANYONE, with the possible exception of my Dutch siblings, who you do not want me to be in contact with because you think they are evil or otherwise flawed.*

This just isn’t how it works as seen from my side.

It may look totally logical from your side – I get that – but the main thing you often do, sadly, is make me fearful and angry and this is why I would not at all move in with you or with anyone else.

I often feel that you are keeping me prisoner. I do not feel “loved” by you. 

Am I willing to talk with you about this? Yes, of course, but I would like to have someone present who can serve as an intermediary because… you very often scare me (but also make me angry). And I often seem to make you angry and frustrated. So I need a translator. And you need a translator. Can you understand that?

I am sorry that I undoubtedly often gave you the wrong impression. (That is why I need a “translator” to talk with you. Know what I mean?)



*(Yes, my siblings are much more materialistic – always have been – and they concern themselves more with appearances, but that does not make them evil. You also have to keep in mind that they continued to interact with my dad for a long time – decades – and may still have some healing to do because of that (and that had not occurred to me until recently as I already cut off all contact around 40 years ago) and that is not the only thing that affected my siblings that they may still have to do some healing about. They’re humans, not robots.) 

 

 


(Another attempt to find out what else I may be dealing with besides Portsmouth’s regular community bullying. Because the many hints for so many years about who this was supposed to be simply have never added up for logistic reasons. That person is part of it but whatever is going on extends beyond him and does not even seem to be primarily coming from that person – though that is hard to know for sure, under the circumstances.)

 

Here we go again

It is 7:30 – in the morning – and I already have almost an hour of computer interference behind me. I am so sick of this crap!

Does this concern someone who has DID and are his “darker” alters messing with my life or am I being pestered by a dangerous psychopath? Well, how the hell would I know?

I just want my goddamn life back! I have had enough of all that extreme craziness that is considered completely normal in England, such as people stealing a stranger’s postal mail, picking the locks to a stranger’s home all the time and carrying out crap in the person’s flat while she is out and all the goddamn nonstop digital interference.

(Not to mention crap like pastors sending you on a two-hour wild-goose chase through the pouring rain in search of food that turns out not to exist. Just messing with you. Just teaching you your proper place. Just in case you had any ideas about being worth your salt. Yes, Portsmouth has a few pastors that engage in truly disgusting behaviours, in case you didn’t know that yet. You go on a course and presto, you’re a pastor, with a good salary. And everyone automatically believes that you are a good man because “He’s a pastor!”)

I want to believe that it is harmless. But it is not harmless. It’s extremely destructive and often very mean. And it is manipulative. Period.

A delivery suddenly being split into two with one item being delivered on the same day and another package of the same remaining part of a larger delivery with someone showing up on my doorstep who I can’t see because there is no light at our front door and sounding very very different when the person hands me the package than when he rang the doorbell – which is suddenly working again, after so many years of having been broken – and the person’s mutterings sounding like the mutterings left on my voice mail about a week ago and mutterings uttered to me on the phone a few times over the years, that does not constitute evidence of DID.

I would like to believe that it is DID that is going on, instead of psychopathy, because DID is a lot less worrisome to deal with, but my wishful thinking is irrelevant.

I have no idea who was at my door. Let’s face it. I have no idea. I have no idea whether it was that particular person everyone in Portsmouth claims never to have heard of. (Just like nobody in Portsmouth has ever heard of the person who lives in Winchester Road, eh.)

I continue to be manipulated from here to Tokyo and back, it looks like, doesn’t it?

Why the extreme isolation? Why isolating me so rigidly and consistently and progressively? That is not something that goes with DID.

There was a time – long ago now – when I thought that I might be dealing with someone who had DID and who was convinced that everyone else has DID too or whatever and was doing his best to bring out my non-existing alters so as to be able to “heal” me. Sigh.

But most of the time, it’s actually looked like I am dealing with an extremely manipulative and often deliberately mean person who occasionally does kind things merely to mess with my head. Let’s face it.

Because the kind things wouldn’t even be possible as such if it weren’t for the mean things that created the occasion for the kind things. 

Let’s face it. I have no idea what is going on. I have no idea why I am being messed with.

But it has to stop. Period.

 

Message for “Lisa” of the poisonous Christmas cookies

Stop freezing my computer!

(Feed the kids some regular cookies or take them for a walk.)

Yep, half the morning’s already been taken up by my poltergeist and his kids or whatever. And the only thing to stop it is to shut down your equipment, which is equally productive but often less stressful provided it does not last too long. Stops my brain from going into that unproductive high stress mode that comes from getting disrupted a lot.

First thing I got this morning was a message about poisoning and “My life has been completely destroyed by stalkers. I need help.” from “Lisa”. I’ve heard from Lisa before. (The name “Ashley” is very popular as well.)

I also had some e-mails from “Julie” about poisonous Christmas cookies yesterday. (And when I got those e-mails, some stuff on my computer froze and I couldn’t save the file I had been working in and had to reboot, but I didn’t lose too much stuff because I wisely opted for the “recovered” file version.)

(I later realized that I didn’t actually do a lot after that.)

Then something I did got interfered with. And again, and again, and again and again. This morning, I mean. One of the disruptions forced me to check into something else, just in case.

It completely takes over your focus and train of thought and at the end of two or three hours of this, you may no longer have any idea of what you had planned to do or what you felt like when you woke up and had not switched on your computer yet. And you often feel like not doing another thing for the rest of the day and drinking another bottle of wine and eating two or three pizzas – neither of which you can afford, but hey, it no longer matters anyway – and watching some more YouTube videos. It’s 10:46 and I feel STRESSED and worn out and I haven’t done a thing yet. (Okay, I wrote that bit about Brexit and I sorted a 50-page paper that I should have printed in reverse order.) 

I wrote the above in the course of 60 minutes, starting at 9:57. It’s 10:59 now and I have a mild tension headache and feel stressed. It will pass. As long as I take a few deep breaths and relax and go do something else now, away from the computer.

Btw, he no longer deletes entire files, but just the last bits of work I did in one file at the moment. That is much more doable than finding entire directories or files disappeared. He’s trying to do his best.

Yay!

I just managed to get access to this website again (to which I lost access on the 19th).

After lots of hiccups and other stuff. In a nutshell, my new computer kinda collapsed on me and my mobile continues to do some weird things as well.

I also continue to get jerked around, regardless of who exactly is doing it to me and why. Ha. What else is new?

What happened on 21 May

I got a message out of the blue from someone in Florida that day. It appeared to be a response to an e-mail from me, but I had not written to him and I had not tried to call him either. Last year, he let me know that he no longer has a landline. In a later e-mail, at the start of this year, however, he wrote something that indicated that he does still have a landline. Strange. I don’t think I have his mobile number. Nobody rang me, according to my mobile. (I have no land line, haven’t had one for several years.)

Yesterday, I finally decided to mention it (in an e-mail, granted, but I am currently unable to call him and Zoom/Skype calls often don’t work out with this person; he usually ends up wanting to connect when I am not at my desk). Apparently, his landline had indicated, back in May, that I had called him but left no message. Again, I didn’t call him.

Apparently, he then called me. Again, my phone did not receive any calls.

Also, at the end of last year, one of his e-mails said that he no longer had a landline, but a few months later, he referred to his landline. Has now confirmed that he still has a landline. Okay, let’s assume that his e-mail last year only said that he was contemplating ditching his landline and that I’ve simply remembered it wrong. Still does not explain the call he claims he received and the call he claims he made.

I am not entirely sure what the nature of the issue is in this case.

I also received direct messages on Twitter since the start of March from someone claiming to be a friend of this person. The account no longer exists and on LinkedIn, that person mentions a different Twitter handle as a way of contacting her. The account that contacted me on Twitter at the time had the look and feel of her LinkedIn account and I had been told by e-mail that she was going to contact me.

What I found odd at the time was that when I asked her about her work, she gave me an excuse for not answering and said she would get back to me. (The reason why she contacted me was supposedly for professional reasons! Well, if I don’t know what someone does…)

Excuses for not answering questions about one’s professional activities and excuses for not wanting to make an appointment for a video call are often good indicators for an account being fake.

Here is the second contact attempt made from that Twitter account.

Very weird, certainly in view of the fact that she had previously “disappeared”. This is not a person I’ve ever met or talked with. She did not reply when I responded to this. 

And then there is the issue of me not being able to reach certain sites in the Netherlands from time to time (such as pension-related) and possibly the issue of my missing driving licence, not to mention the rest.

However, I certainly can’t rule out that the real issue is the person in Florida, with regard to that side of the strange things that continue to happen in my life. He’s done a few really weird things over the years off and on, granted. And after all, his Facebook account is also in the name of his friend. Okay, let’s assume that, for clarity’s sake. Okay, this does have the right feel to it. It’s also the application of Occam’s razor with regard to this. So I am dealing with more than one issue, one local and one Florida-based. Okay. Knowing that really helps.

(He may have gotten stuck a bit, to do with very specific high-level professional training he received in the past. That alone might explain it. It happens sometimes, when you are in that kind of profession. If not, then it is who he is.)

Now I still need to solve the rest. (Unless he’s flown over in the past and is paying local people to complicate my life, lol, which is a little too far-fetched, I think that the rest really is genuinely locally driven stuff, “as usual” for the locals.)

 

Astonishing

 

I just received a welcoming e-mail from a bank where I opened an account some years ago.

Eh?

I also seem to have missed a lot of postal mail again. This has happened ever since I moved into this address. On one occasion, a package of mail items for me covering several months was apparently found in the mud somewhere and handed in at Royal Mail who packaged it in plastic and handed it over one day. I’ve also had local postal mail arrive about a year after it was sent etc.

Message for Joanne Snowdon (cc to Gerald Vernon-Jackson) – Civic Offices Portsmouth

Dear Joanne,

On the basis of correspondence received from your offices about midway during the present lock-down, which has meanwhile been extended, I must conclude it appears that I may be experiencing a repeat of what happened two years ago at around the same time. (An announcement of full cancellation followed by an announcement of increase.)

Because of the lock-down, I can’t stop by and there is little or nothing else I can do with regards to this other than post this message here.

Can you check and keep an eye on this, please? Thanks. I appreciate it.

Stay well.

 

One last post before the holidays

I don’t know if you are making one of those lists with good intentions for the new year or are entertaining wishes for your Christmas presents, but I hope they’ll all come true.

This morning, I reminded myself that I’ve picked up all sorts of habits over the years, while I moved through various cultures. Mine, for example, does not have a Christmas presents tradition, but you know what? I’d completely forgotten.

[The Dutch do celebrate Christmas, but they give each other presents on St Nicholas Day –  Sinterklaas – at the beginning of December. As Dutch mobile phone provider Telfort gave me free calls at Sinterklaas, I know that the tradition is still going strong in the Netherlands, complete with the soot-faced chimney sweeps, and their hand-held short natural-materials brush called “roe” and their chimney sweep’s beret.

The chimney sweeps descend down the chimney to deliver the gifts while Santa (Sinterklaas) and horse wait on the roof, moon overhead. In the days running up to Sinterklaas, Dutch children place one of their shoes near the chimney so that one of the chimney sweep can leave some candy, if he happens to pass by their house, in exchange for a carrot or some sugar for the horse. Apparently, chimney sweeps bring good luck.]

Today, I received a Christmas parcel from the States. I’ll open it on the evening of the 24th, because I think that’s what I am supposed to do.

It’s gonna be my 15th Christmas in Britain and my 10th in Portsmouth. Same for New Year’s Eve. For the coming year, I have lots of wishes for myself, but I am keeping them to myself.

For the world, I have lots of wishes too, but it feels grandiose to say that. It is not my place to dictate for other people what they should wish (though I can fantasize!). I guess that in reality, those wishes represent what I want for myself to some degree.

The above collage contains a photo of a Christmas wreath I decorated while I was living in Florida in the mid 1990s, with dough-based ornaments and sea shells that I painted and Spanish moss, crops of photos of some of the other ornaments I made back then, and a 2009 Christmas card that I scanned and pasted into the image. Then I added a red mist focus.

Oh, by the way, I saw lots of pale salmon-coloured starfish washing up at Southsea, two or three days ago. Amazing! Brought back memories from my high-school biology class. There was a fierce storm with high waves, and lots of seagulls riding them, feasting on various goodies.