Why my YouTube channel is the way it is (with appeal in this blog post)

See also description and comments. I want this anonymous person loser to stop sabotaging every aspect of my life.

I want my goddamn Udemy payment and my goddamn VAT repayment for July-September!

You did the same shit with payments from the University of Twente for six months and openly taunted me with it.

And a year earlier, at the end of 2019, you wiped out my work for Pactera. 3000 bucks’ worth that was gonna be, I reckoned.

(8 Jan: Should I add that this work for Pactera disappeared in the same manner as work I did for an EDX course disappeared, earlier, in 2016/17? Work that I did at the public library?)

And then on my birthday, you wiped out that grant proposal. Different computer.

Then you sabotaged the local wildlife work.

You’re a vile sadist.

I’ve had it with this your sadistic shit, whoever you are.

8 January:

And that goes for both the orchestrators and the performers.

And the vile silly but damaging lies you’ve been telling all sorts of people about me are despicable not good too either.

Doesn’t know how to tell time and what a calendar is, is afraid of men in business suits and all that shit.

What was the latest, I wonder… Been getting some really strange responses lately about something perfectly normal; I thought people were just being a little odd, a little dramatic, about something ordinary. But it would fit the pattern, of you attempting to keep me under your thumb, unfortunately.

The Udemy payment -$3.95- has meanwhile arrived. Much later in the day than usual, forcing me to beg someone for money, which I hate, but it’s good that it’s come in.

And nobody, not one person on Portsea Island, knows anything about what’s been going on? Yeah right.

To the people behind this: Get yourself a shrink and then I’m willing to talk with you, in cooperation with that shrink, to see if we can do something constructive with all of this. The shrink can get papers and professional kudos out of it. You’re resourceful enough to be able to find yourself a shrink who truly understands your needs – and mine – and respects you and looks out for everyone’s interests (not just yours but mine and the shrink’s too).

As far as I have been able to tell, the one thing that you really want is advocacy.

Then stop fucking around with me and start focusing towards that.

I’m willing to listen – and you know that. (But I am done with getting abused, let alone getting abused anonymously and without even knowing what is going on, what your situation is, and having to try to communicate with you like this and in other odd ways. My slavery situation is OVER.)

No, it’s not too late in your lives for that.

And you need more than to be able to talk with me. You need someone who can hand you practical “management tools”, someone who can see which techniques would really help you. I don’t have the professional background for that.

But I’m determined.

The status quo is not tenable.

So let’s do this.

A long time ago, one of you wrote to me that you weren’t necessarily after being understood, that merely being accepted the way you are is the main thing for you. I don’t know who (in reality) wrote that and what it was about. But I remember it.

That’s advocacy, isn’t it?

Then let’s do that.

Man up.

Life is not about being perfect or even about appearing to be perfect. Life is about accepting and embracing yourself the way you are. THAT seems to be your biggest challenge. As far as I can tell, you can’t do that without being accepted by others first, because of what’s going on in your brains, whatever exactly that is. So you want to beat people, force them, into doing that, into accepting you? That’s not how this works.

You’re a lot like wildlife. Wildlife also doesn’t consider things like people’s “boundaries” for example.

There’s often a lot of blaming people, about not setting boundaries, but that’s not always appropriate. Some people, just like wildlife, simply don’t understand boundaries, are baffled by them or are not interested in them, and in those cases, it does not matter whether others have strong boundaries or not. As the other party’s focus is solely on their own boundaries and wishes.

Think simply of a pet pigeon landing on a human’s head, oblivious to the fact that the bird’s sharp toenails may be painful to the human. It’s not that the pigeon does not respect the human’s boundaries; it simply does not see them. It wishes to be close to the human or to perch on something that’s convenient.

To some degree that has to do with signalling, a difference in “language”.

Think a cat’s hissing versus a dog’s bark or snarl or a magpie’s or pigeon’s warning call. Cats and dogs pay no attention to the warning calls of birds, but other birds do, even across species.

It’s not true that all humans communicate the same way either.

Just think of English people interpreting “with the greatest respect” as “I think you’re an idiot” (which is a narcissistic interpretation), “don’t worry about it” as “fuck off” and so on.

But it goes beyond that.

PS
You’ve already made my entire life revolve around you anyway… and I have done enough “waiting for this to go away”.

But I want to know what you have done with the driving licence and bank cards that you took from me. That worries me.

PPS Advocacy and secrecy don’t go together.

10 January 2022:

Also, I remind you that on 17 October 2011, I wrote the following to you after you contacted me on Skype:

“Listen, can I be very frank? I think you need (some) help. Your view of reality appears to be quite distorted, certainly your view of my reality. Won’t you at least please tell me what is going on with you, what your story is? I’d like to know.”

12 January 2022:

And, no, the fact that Ms X once sent me those towels that had been drenched in bacteria from her lab – though somewhat questionable, you can see that as scientists’ humour – does not mean that she is behind everything that’s been going on. As far back as the summer of 2017, she managed to make quite clear to me, in her own way, that she wanted these bizarre troubles to be over for me.

That bag with all the bears etc, it may have contained a message, sure – and I do think that something about this adds up – but the “message” may also have been a mere attempt at manipulation. I cannot assess that from a distance, can I? And again, I find it very peculiar that not one single person on Portsea Island would know anything about this.

Also… where have those animal intelligence videos gone?

13 January:

All I’ve left is lemons now. Just about everything and everyone I cared about is gone.

Let’s make lemonade, then.

My situation (i.e. sadistic stalking)

It’s like this.

If I put up with everything these (anonymous) dudes want to do – which gives them a family feel – I get to eat and be warm. But I don’t really get to have a life.

They very deliberately isolate me as much as possible. They want optimal control over me and if people don’t know me, and I still don’t know anyone locally, they are much more likely to assume that I’m batshit crazy.

Boundaries? What are those?

They walk all over me.

And then when I get fed up and try to claw control over my life back, they throw hissyfits, I have little food and so on and can do perhaps even less.

But you can’t keep another human being in a cage just because it gives you the feeling that this person is now your family!

They can’t help themselves. They don’t get this.

There’s a big empathy gap there.

Sigh.

They do try, btw.

That’s why I think it’s more likely to be Asperger’s than NPD that is behind this.

This ain’t nearly as often funny and sweet as some people who know more about the story have been assuming.

That’s for sure.

Sometimes it is.

It’s often been agony for me. Not being able to do much. The isolation.

And society conveniently looks away.

Or tells itself a convenient story.

Where does this come from? The Priklopils and the Burstows. How do they come about? Does anyone care? Has anyone ever looked at this?

Update on previous post

24 November 2021, 16:08
Have meanwhile contacted the party who issued the item that was taken from my flat, on Monday, but have not heard back yet.

I had had the item in my hands a few days previously and am angry with myself for not having kept it with me. But I cannot go around having everything with me that I do not want anyone who keeps picking the locks to take from within my flat. It is impossible!

I think it’s part of him having been busy thwarting something that I was trying to do, a professional activity, that is. I had received a survey about this item, which I completed and which revealed that I planned to use the item. I have meanwhile realised later that that too may have been spoofed – asking me about my use of the item.

To be specific, he has cut off a very important form of transport for me.

I have asked for a replacement of the item, but so many access methods are app-only these days so I don’t know whether I will be able to get a replacement. I cannot do anything app-based, in this case, for all sorts of reasons. The previous time that I used this transport, he messed with that too. (It cost me money, while I didn’t get to use the transport, but I can blame mainly my own stupidity for that little silly incident.)

This time, it’s really mean what he’s done. Unless the replacement for the item is in the mail or my poltergeist returns the item. He does often return items, sometimes after a few months, sometimes after years. But I have a feeling that he is really out to damage me now.

He probably has no idea how much his actions often scare me, regarding the things that he does and also regarding how angry he sometimes gets when I protest. Because there is nobody there. It’s all anonymous, from a distance. It is so creepy. Unhealthy, too. I can’t keep bottling this up because there is not anyone to talk with about this, nobody to go to and say “stop this shit!” to (even though I have a pretty good idea of who did this, in practice, this time).

How to stimulate small business in Portsmouth?

  1. Provide an automatic income top-up for starters, for up to five years. For a lower max amount by year.
  2. Couple it to support by teaming them up with mentors with active successful businesses, preferably people who have been through lows, too, and may perhaps even have needed to declare bankruptcy, before. People who had to shoe-strap their business and made it. Not people with wealthy aunts who loaned them the money to get started (like Branson). Not so-called business advisors because those are usually people without good insights but who fantasise(d) about being big entrepreneurs. They neither have the savvy, nor the attitude. But they like yackyacking. So none of the usual Pompey this and that folks with or without awards. (Also because these Pompey this and that folks tend to have tunnel vision.) Although some of them may make good accountants, that doesn’t make them allround business advisors. No real estate developers either. Because they tend to teach bad business practices.

It’s not true that “success” means making millions. Success is what YOU want it to be. Not what someone else tells you it is

And it’s not true either that “stiffing others” equals “success”.

Shows like The Apprentice should come with information such as that in order to sell inside a shopping centre, you need to apply to be allowed to, usually have to pay to be allowed to and must have insurance in place, regardless of whether you have staff or not.

Typical of local culture?

Yesterday, as I was walking back from Lidl, a guy in front of me was vomiting every few steps with no consideration for those around him.

I had seen the puddles of vomit, but I had not realised that it had been deposited less than a minute earlier until I was about the pass the guy and he vomited, mostly liquid now, and then vomited again.

When I tried to avoid him by going around parked cars, onto the tarmac, he suddenly decided to cross the road and almost collided with me.

Have I just spoiled your appetite? Welcome to daily life in England.

It was not that different in Southampton. More vomit over there, actually.

Prices are going up, by the way. I found myself buying a packet with two items for £1.25 while I used to get a packet of 6 for £1.09 and better tasting. I am still annoyed. Not very zen-like, fretting over things that cannot be helped.

Continue reading

Suicides in Portsmouth (and what the hell is going on in this town?!!)

Rattled by what I discovered yesterday and remembering that the idea of eugenics did not begin in Nazi Germany but in England. I decided to do an internet search on “suicides in Portsmouth” and I found that in the three years before the pandemic, the suicide rate in Portsmouth has been higher than for its surroundings.

“Portsmouth suicide rate has been higher than regional average in last three years”

“Portsmouth’s suicide rate over the last three years has been higher than across the south east, figures have shown.”

This woman at Portsmouth City Council who tried to get me to commit suicide, she has access to many so-called vulnerable people…

But in England, the outward display of poverty is often mistaken for mental instability, also often called “vulnerability”. Was that what made her decide to target me?

Yesterday’s conversation – see previous post – has really rattled me because I had assumed that she had somehow been fooled into doing what she did, by the person who has been exposing me to sadistic stalking for over a decade and had not quite been aware of what she was doing. But it now looks like she was acting on her own and acted very deliberately.

(This is starting to shed a very different light on my situation. What the hell is really going on in this town?)

I also looked into “chav” culture. Chav stands for “council-housed and violent”. What I came away with is the reminder that the “chav” idea of rejecting everyone who is slightly different is not exclusive to chavs at all. Chavs are merely an out-group, in which people have little power and they do what they can to counter that.

I also saw that in Leigh Park (which is Havant, however), groups of yobs were making the life of a 76-year-old man (and his wife) hell last year, and then – thankfully – 30 people stood up for him to defend him (his home). That they had to, that’s… BONKERS! So was I, perhaps the target of a chilling form of gerontophobia???

I am shaking my head. What on earth did I land in when I left Amsterdam and moved to Hampshire, England?

To add a more positive note, another woman who works at the same facility as the woman who tried to get me to commit suicide, well, I had misjudged her as being very much into the class thing, in a negative way. But I’ve recently discovered that she’s not and that she is not only very good at her job, she enjoys it. She has no idea how precious that is and how glad I was to make that discovery. I love being wrong about negative things.

22 October: my old computer is now also suddenly out of order, but this post may not be up to date on my phone. I had contacted the local authorities (Dr. H.A.) and she has replied. I have meanwhile explained what happened. The local authorities can look into what is going on, if needed, while there’s absolutely nothing that I can do.

To H.A.: “straight down to” was what she said and in combination with something else that she said, you can end up at the culmination of a bridge.

I also wrote to The Guardian this morning, not about this, but about my experiences since I moved to Portsmouth.