Russian Roulette or Travelling the Black Holes of my Soulexistence

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Curious. It is only at the end of this writing, trying to find an acompanying picture, i sense this association with Black Holes, in which there is matter, an invisible core, which is not empty space without information. My mind spinning around in Outer Reality, trying to find its own sense of the matter.Knowing i am not how others perceive of me, or how socalled therapists, writers online, diagnose, label, broken people like me. Noone has so much information, onone even has sufficient adequate information of all that has made me into who i am, as i have myself. I know and am full aware that I am never my symptoms, my disorders, my traumas. And although i feel utterly alone right now, i also know i am not the only on in this world or in other worlds knowing that is true.

With social media and the internet, so many brilliant people share their scientific findings online, easy to find for any broken person, trying to find some truths for the symptoms she suffers.

In reality it is luck or Russian Roulette or possibly the Soul knows best, whether one can find another person, a therapist, who has any inkling to the suffering one suffers daily or who even knows to apply the method another brilliant so eloquently worded in an onlline seminar, in which she highlighted her successes. To speak the truth, i mostly met inadequate, dysfunctional therapists, clinging to their own learning and expertise, while missing out on newly found expertise. And always costing a bundle for often nothing delivered.

Just did a scan for Neurofeedback. Doing silly exercises to find in any Brain Gym, while nothing regarding relationships, attachment, all that i am incapable of doing, is even put on the plate. And how brilliant i became at dissociating, seemingly a better then normal personality in many areas. I even enjoy that mode myself and know others do too. The problem arises when that mode dysfunctions and i fall into the abyss of the traumastate slope, where the avalanche of unstoppable symptoms just keep coming. Even knowing i am never my symptoms, others, all previous relationships judged and judge me on those for them inconvenient symptoms. In truth i am only TEARS, preverbal, dffuse emotions of FREEZE, my hands in a ball next to my face as if still inutero. Unbearable sadness, tears never cried, noone ever asking how i was doing or why i tried to run away when just a todler. How would a child like that feel. Already having survived her mother´s abortionattempt, her little brother´s smothering with a cushion to the point of being all blue and her mother´s 3 suicideattempts when i was just 1 year old. A mother so enraged she rather ditched 5 children on my father, that assuming her responsibility as a mother, with children she never wanted in the first place. All because my father had sought love and touching elsewhere in a mistress. Afterwards she claimed she would have preferred a divorce and that the protestant minister made her stay in the marriage. However i could never envision this mother??? who gave me the feeling of only being a burden to her, a child she could not love, with a longing for her premarriage times, working in an office, with colleagues she kept as friends the rest of her or their lives, living a life as a single divorced parent with 5 children.

I find myself again in those moments of wanting to give it all up, to stop trying. Wanting to return to the other world since the age of 2, maybe it is time. Only death does not come easily or by itself for a supersurvivor and suicide is no longer an option.

Having been guilttripped by my adult sons, even to the point of blaming me for one having an ability to know how to relate to women, after she fell in love with a colleague, was the final drop. I will no longer wear this cloak of negativity of being blamed for my disorders, inability to live, as i never learned those early modalities every baby should learn to have a chance at LIFE. Alone with my tears, accepting that indeed noone is able to love me, as my father hypnotized my at 4, telling me i was the child of the devil, born to be unlucky/unhappy and noone would ever be able to love me. With the later add on of noone would be capable of loving me. Results are the same. All these people passing me by, using my DID/high soulfunctoning self as a car needs a petrol station, ditching me at the first moment i got eventually triggered into a fullblown traumastate.

Alone with my Selves is most times a rather tranquil, peaceful state. Where i make do with what i can and what i cannot. It is as it is my favorite mantra.

Why do patients like me have to pay for a therapist who is not delivering, who in fact has no clue, for never having studied the matter i perfectly worded i came for. Should he not have the level of insight, introspection to know about himself that he had nothing to offer. That the socalled scan of my brain would not reveal the state of my brain when in turmoil, triggered in a full blown traumastate, or as Bessel van der Kolk calls it Goes totally offline. With any bought product we can say as customers it is faulty, does not satisfy our needs.

But these individuals, having qualified for diploms, studying outmoded writings, hypthesis about a brain dysfunctioning, are so high on a pedestal, that they are beyond approach. The failing always blamed again on the patients or the responsibility to handle our issues put back on our plates.

Just read yesterday about a therapist telling her patient on the telephone she should just care herself about her Inner Child. Guessed they missed the recent findings of Babette Rothchild that people broken like me, are incapable of mothering, have the brains of an 11 year old child. If there even is a child still in this earthreality. Those who know about lost Soulparts, are aware that part may be far away in the Universe, floating around in limbo. I succeeded in doing Soulretrieval for that part, which took then again decades of hard, intensive therapeutic work to help her enter into this earthreality.

To find NOONE cares or has a clue. Not even the children i birthed in this reality.

Deep soulwork, therapeutic healing is apparently only done by those for who no other option is left, who find themselves in the deep trenches, with bombs constantly targetting and/or hitting every fiber of her being. From memory i know that it is also in those times, that help seems to arrive from unexpected sources.

But i am tired, exhausted, possibly even Burned Out and up.

But on the positive side, this time i stopped the therapeutic approach by a therapist, i diagnosed as lacking expertise on my disorders. While the previous one i did 8 sessions before wording those inklings i had felt at the first introduction.

My mistake to think that when a traumaexpert i trust, who makes sense, like Bessel van der Kolk, sees a certain method as very helpfull, in this case, Neurofeedback for Developmental Disorder, a Neurofeedback specialist has an idea how to treat me and train the correct points in my brain to heal my disorders. He has not. In fact he might downtrain the very point in my brain that has helped me survive, and become stronger then all the atrophied functions in my brain, which is always geared for survival. In fact he had no clue and i sensed that. I could not speak those words at the moment in time it happened. Only afterwards it all escalates in my brain and falls apart like a house of cards.


eXtinction — the most pressing environmental issues are not happening 1000s of years from now, they’re happening now

Beautiful video. Until i heard her say we would need at least 3 planets to sustain 9 billion people. Then i new this is promotion material for those propagandizing 95 % of worldpopulationreduction. As far as those glaciers disappearing, again a scientist spoke out we are cooling down, possibly even up for a new iceage. Several scientists have been saying that for years.

Everything Matters: Beyond Meds

No other “cause” matters unless we take care of our environment first. We have to survive first.

eXtinction is an environmental art short that brings together powerful storytelling and stirring imagery.

exIt reveals that the most pressing environmental issues are not happening thousands of years from now, but are in fact happening within our lifetime — and specifically, on the timeline of one young woman’s life, from birth to death. eXtinction highlights ten of the most pressing environmental issues in the world and it’s up to all of us to take action. Visit the website to find out how you can make a difference.

More on topic from Beyond Meds:

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A therapist, any therapist can never be a substitute for the mother you never had. I resent the fact she is earning good money, while my whole life was and has always been in ruins. New therapies, new scientific findings are often not reimbursed by our dutch healtinsurance and the consults limited in time also do not work for me. Doing a Journey once with a belgian woman who let it last as long as it took for the same price, it took 6 hours, i felt perfect balance. Then during the trip back to the Netherlands, to much distubance felt from the outside world, made it already gone before reaching home. Maybe i always sufferered cptsd, did and rad, but those terms were not known then overhere in the Netherlands. My symptoms surfaced when i got pregnant, and got worse with each pregnancy without me having any idea about belated ptsd, pregnancies triggerering my own inuteroexperiences. Ageregressions, feeling a raw foetus, wanting to hide behing curtains, brought up memories how as a child i hid under the table, in closets and just anywhere. Even under my blankets at night. I suffered severe catatony and had fullbreathingstops, inability to speak and possibly many other symptoms. All the while having to parent 4 young children as a single parent.  Which i did from my DID highfuntioning soulpart, never having incarnated. I gave internal child work a chance and hated it. It felt as if it brought a definite separation between what or who i was and this childpart. I did not pursue that further. My ex husband gave me a horsyride on his knee once, making me feel like a child, which i enjoyed but there was no constancy in it. Like the therapists, adults even loved ones are incapable of parenting this childpart like a mother parents her child 24/7. Yet RAD constantly surfacing, being triggered ruins all relationships. even the one with my children, now adult. I have come to accept that,am mild, not angry, never bitter or in  hate. I know the only thing that works is total, full retreat within, which my adult children resent and get furious about.  For them it triggers the trauma´s of abandonment, uncontrolled rages, suicidal depressions etc. they grew up in. The worst and never understood symptom being i literally put people outside of my house, break all bonds. Yes, including my exhusband and my own children. And yes it is the primitive brain, taking over, no control possible. I wanted to return to the world where i came from at 2, first conscious memories.  In a recent session chosen by me, i sat there while being in the womb. A split body. Half of it paralyzed, in cramp, while the other half was holding myself. An attempt to try  the Pat Ogden therapy with someone who had done a weekend workshop with Pat. Then i heard Pat say in a lecture that if a patient did not respond, to tell the patient to move. Worst advise ever. So i did not go further then the one session, my confidence blown. Many years ago i participated in the divingtherapy invented by a belgian psychiatrist by the name Karel Ringoet, book dance with the white clowns. Not developed for my kind of trauma, but he had treated another woman with similar issues. I was blessed that the present female psychologist went with me diving into an underwater wombresembing construction, totally immersed in water. She held me, but not as a mother holding me, but to enable me to feel the floating inuteroexperience of a foetus. She was a mother herself and i could sort of make contact with those neurons in her brain. I am an extreme empath, according to Peter Levine resulting from prenatal trauma, i feel what others feel. This gave me a first sense of the experience of bonding, Which again i did not do with her, but sort of took the experience of her. I have never bonded with mother either father. My mirrorneurons stored that and that supported me for years. Having parented, i was a great mother for babies from my soulperspective, i parented the childparts within. Even retrieved lost soulparts from space. This childpart stayed inutero, a foetus. For over a decade i woke up in unbearable sadness, in a foetalposition, cramped wrists, trying to push the vein in my neck so hard i would die from it. Was this how i was inutero? Never knowing whether it would ever shift. During the day i invested half a day, building resources, tools and in time that build resilience. To give me some hours a day of functional adult experience, save intimate relationships and to better maintain consciously DID when my grandchildren were present. My tools that worked were Mindfulness, Heartmath, Brainwavetherapy, Qi Gong and meditation and eating extremely healthy and many,  many supplements. During one course of brainwavetherapy i discovered theta brought me into contact with this inutero child. I started using that consciously. Envisioning the womb as a cave the child was hiding in, taking a sort of lifeline with me, when i the parent descended to be with her giving her the lifeline with flickering colours of lifeenergy to hold to feel the contact with the outsideworld. Over weeks, maybe months, in total retreat from all my loved ones, it felt she slowly crept out of that cave. Still the waking up inutero continued. Then one morning, day that shifted too. It is only on rare occasions a remnant, cramped wrists come up. That  is me alone with myself. Life always wants homeostasis. So now the worst symptom RAD. I hear, read all these women on FB having given up, saying never again etc etc. I am not like that for i know my trauma and hopefully my healing are passed on in the DNA of my futuregenerations. Right now i find myself in the middle of this. Who could have thought it would happen with a man on the other side of the world. I observe myself, know the man has good loveskills, but also know i do not, have not travelled for years, let alone 8000 km to confront myself if RAD could be moved by real life love, What if being 62 years of age, those mirrorneurons would still work and pick up the fully functional neurons regarding attachment  of this person? Could i then establish a new healthy attachment pattern, know bonding and would i and my descendants benefit from that. I can´t even move there, nor he here, we are both parents of families. He a widow, i a single parent. Often i walk my dog now, aware of that it is all of me walking, i experience my surroundings in a totally different way then i used to. Neglect, however slightly still trigger my cptsd and RAD to the point of wanting instant death. Mindfulness helps me to hold that, although with great difficulty. I am a survivor of an abortionattempt, was present at 1 year with my mother´s three times suicideattempts, survived my father´s attempt to murder me at 12 and in between abuse and later spousal abuse. Was forced to abort my first child, then got beaten full force on my pregnant belly, then all my clothes ripped of with a next chosen pregnancy, at which point he, who loved me deeply, felt such deep shame he left me, which felt like abandonement. Had i not been pregnant i would have taken my life then. Any suggestions on healing RAD would be most welcome. And as far as the divingtherapy, it takes quite a therapist to undertake that. Most invited were most likely too embarrassed to do therapy in a bathingsuit or swimmingtrunks. At a conference in London they ridiculed the man.

Having drowned so many times, i know to go deep, and come up again. Survival has become second nature.

Noone exampled living through RAD for me yet. Can it be done? Can that brain with certain mirrorneurons never having be activated, still be activated at 62.


The moment i was traumatized i became the perpetrator.

untitled at home within



A hard truth to swallow, yet one i never needed to go into denial for. When complex ptsd, caught up with me, through 4 consciously chosen pregnancies, i had no clue. PTSD was hardly a term used in the Netherlands in those days, let alone a term to describe how people, having suffered childabuse, suffered similar symptoms. Having been an au pair in the UK, english had become as easy as my maternal language. I could read it effortlessly, sometimes missing a word, and understand what was meant. I had taken to reading english books more and more. But also when studying Politicology in Amsterdam, many of our studymaterial/articles was in english.

It proved to be a lifesaver for me. Coming upon a book about trauma by Judith Herman opened my eyes to myself. Here she was describing my symptoms one by one. Even though i had never recognized myself in descriptions of Borderline patients, sometimes i came upon the suggestion, by therapists who lacked knowledge. But that was later, when i was already assertive enough to counter the conclusion and diagnosis. I was blessed to frequent a very openminded therapist, called Angels with her surname, in that time. We discussed the symptoms mentioned in the book and decided it was an adequate description. Moreover she enlightened me i never fit the symptomdescription for Borderline. She was a well educated, Psychiatrist/Psychotherapist. For my assurance and private physician she wrote up some reports. And thus she gave me the first safetynet i had ever experienced in my life. She paved the way to qualify for an income on benefits, freed me from forever being pushed to seek work and legitimized my dysfunctionality. In a way, it also caused i was not allowed to enter certain programms, to better oneself, upgrade oneself to find work again. Then i thought there was an opening. Social services started a new programm, and my previous councellor was the coordinator. They wanted to inspire people, who were just getting more isolated, sitting at home. In those days i had become more and more suicidal and exhausted. Strangely when one has ptsd, physicians negate all other physical suffering, excluding BurnOut and other physical diseases, even if they could very well be expression because of the chronic stress caused by trauma, complex ptsd.  The coordinator asked me what i wanted to do in the outside world and they would pay for it. The only thing i wanted was to return to finish my study Politicology at the university of Amsterdam. I was granted my wish and then again came head to head with the untrustworthiness of social systems, when a year later, while i was doing well in my studies, i was told i had to stop, for university level studies were not supported. From the moment i conceived my eldest son, in an already abusive, but very loving, relationship, it was clear to me that is was a dysfunctional person. I had no trouble owning that truth. I chose the direction of healing myself and have been at this for 34 years now. Many therapysessions, often again detrimental and traumatizing, many workshops, many books read and later many teleseminars followed.  Having insight is a blessing and also a stick to be beaten up with again. For while i can make the choice for healing, i cannot make that choice to invest in that, for the children i consciously, lovingly created and scarred and damaged through my dysfunctional behaviour. Neither could i make that choice for the siblings, all older then i am, most likely less damaged, who never invested therapeutically in healing their own negative dysfunctional thinking and patterns of behaviour. It necessitated me to dissociate in direct contact with my children, grandchildren as well as my siblings. Dissociating became harder and harder on my physical body. But as long as it was me, who willingly made that choice, acknowledging my for me normal behaviour was too toxic for babies and small children, i paid the high price. Until the day came, 2 of my sons put ultimatums to me  of how i should be, behave and what i should be capable of. Having insight is a blessing and sometimes it is not. Knowing a certain situation was beyond my capacity to handle, or death would most certainly be the consequence, was for me a truth and for others an inconvenience they were unwilling to live. Thus i deprived my children from having their mother in their lives, in the lives of their children. I own being a perpetrator. I own i hurt people, who have no clue, no insight or level of understanding to have any idea as to why i make certain choices. I was super mom, super human being, close to perfect, in my dissociated, non human soulstate. Why would i no longer give to them, what they were used to, while i was parenting/mothering/raising them? I know the answer. And i understand i am conceived of as being again the abusive perpetrator, possibly even reminding them, triggering in them, the days i suffered uncontrollable rage and continuous suicidal depressions, BurnOut and CFS. I own having been a perpetrator. I neither justify that, or excuse myself for my dysfunctional behaviour by sharing the traumatic core issues that caused that behaviour. I own it and deeply regret it. And have always apologized afterwards. Not good enough, i know and agree. But it was as it was and is as it is.

Guilt never brings healing i believe. Truth can bring healing, when accompanied by the willingness to heal and the investment in many therapeutic methods to do so. I can see/feel progress, but others, often too busy with their own lives, to even invest time in listening, seeing me, cannot. Every moment of triggering into a traumastate is being perceived of as yet a failure to behave as if normal. Blame, guilttripping and nasty ultimatums, put to me by adult children, serving as yet more traumatizing abuse for me. Reaffirming again it might be better to abort me, to murder me. Confirming my feelings of experiencing myself as being a monster.

It is as it is. And life has shifted me. The Universe decided it was time. A choice i could never have made myself. I could only observe my unwillingness to comply with ultimatums, to dissociate as to convenience adult people, to act ‘normal’. I found myself unwilling to go back into my cage. I who had been living my life for others, always unable to feel/experience a Self, until something so overstepped my boundaries, i could not tolerate it, i, who never knew what she wanted, knew with deep certainty, i was unprepared to go back into my cage. I chose to be willing to heal, for the sake of my children and then again for the sake of my grandchildren. And finally there is this sense of me. The dissociated parts existing simultaneously at every moment. Fully acknowledged and accepted by me. I feel my allegiance to this unborn foetus, inprisoned in an eternal Freeze modus and refuse to disown her right to my protection. Refuse to be her perpetrator. Refuse to join all others, in replaying that inutero abortionattempt on me, over and over again. Life taught me to be gratefull for all my experiences, positive or negative. Taught me there are greater realities, greater interests, that extend far beyond my limited existence, my understanding of my own history.

In choosing healing, i not only heal myself, and thus benefit future generations, i also heal the morphogenetic field, thus making it easier for all those coming after me, attemtpting the same courageous feat of choosing healing.

Yet the same world, in whose interest i chose my actions, will continue to see me as the perpetrator, the dysfunctional, harming, devouring mother. They will interprete me with their own false, negative projections. See things in me, that were never there and are alien to my character.

I am one of the most experienced in bearing pain, deep grief and have grown to trust my resilience in doing so. Shifting from the hope of my family healing to accepting the possibility that is now forever impossible, has been hard. Triggering again my strong deathwish.

But my death would be neither in the interest of my future generations, nor in the interest of the morphogenetic field.

So i chose Life. Now, being into this new situation for almost 2 months, i am getting better at holding the two realities. My choice to be willing to heal, my being perceived as the yet again perpetrator by my children. And in find, i need neither justification, nor defense.

It is as it is. I am an adult now, capable of parenting this foetus, who wakes up every morning in the Freeze state. Capable of accepting not everybody likes me and some even hate me. And among those some, can very well be my own children. And possibly i deserved that hatred. Does it matter? In my worldview, all people are entitled to their feelings/emotions, but never entitled to abuse/violate others.

I found myself strongly against the position of NLP, to avoid people functioning on a lower level then you, living a life undesired by you. To me it sounded/felt like avoiding, denying suffering. Which is unacceptable to me. Yet i have come to find, there can be danger in connections with others, suffering similar symptoms as i do. In the initial encounter, to meet someone, who fully understands you and your many symptoms, because of a similar personal experience, feels like a refreshing breath of air. A hope, that finally someone will understand you, will be able to stand you. Could even love you unconditionally. Give me the nurture, i lacked as a foetus, a baby, a toddler, a child. Could in fact be trusted, when therapists, scientists, assured you, you would forever be incapable to trust people, to trust anyone. How many memes did i buy into? Easy found truths, that have no real basis. Life taught me in no uncertain terms, that having suffered, lived trauma oneself, does in no way breed empathy and compassion for those who suffer likewise, as it has in me. Peter Levine taught me over a decade ago, that kind of empathy, clear feeling, is related to prenatal trauma. I even came to find, that some survivors of abuse, also suffer from autistic symptoms, that fit right into the autist spectrum. They are dangerous to me, abuse me all over and deny me the right to safety. In a way a gift, a treasure in disguise. For yet again, with some painful effort, i can hold that pain, anger triggered in me.  It also clarifies, how i do not want to wallow in the mud, like a pig. I have chosen the path of healing.

I would have welcomed to understand and know more of my parents issues, that caused them to abuse/traumatize me. Yet understand, it was not the time in those days. I am blessed with the many insights, options for therapy, healing. They never had those options and chose denial, roles of eternal victimhood, negative thinking, blaming others for their own dysfunctionality. They also denied me. Denied my dysfunction, traumatic disorders, my efforts to heal. A healing that started prior to the times of understanding, that telling one’s story over and over again was not necessary, could in fact be retraumatizing.

Yesterday i experienced a sensation of landing. Am i possibly experiencing, what is called incarnation in one’s body, something that is impossible to children traumatized before the age of 1.

There is curious, childlike wonder about what this shift may possibly shift in the kind of life i live. Understanding life as a functional person, will be completely different from life as a dysfunctional person. Understanding there may even come a time,  i lay down the many labels of my traumatized disorders. A time, when i will just accept i am I, just like all others, i have strong points and weak points, just like all else i am not perfect, i experience failures. Just like others, i need no passport, to earn the right of existence. That right was always inherently mine. My parents denying me that right, and me inprinting that belief as a hypnotic command in my subconscious mind, were just people suffering their own dysfunctionality. And i have no need to fight them, or ask them for permission of whatever.

I am adult now, my own parent, friend, partner. And i would not want to be other then that. What a fabulous, adventurous, journey/path my soul destined for me.

Thank you!






Only recently i was graced with the experience of being overwhelmed by the toxic out of control raging by my sister. It was even targeted at me and she did not intend my any harm. The simple fact was, that we both grew up in the same dysfunctional family, often exposed to the raging abusive agression and hatred of my father. When she started her studies, she found her escape in building friendships with costudents.
She also always had some further away familymembers, then our family of origin, where she could go for support. Both options were no available for me, when born 12 years after her. The further away familymembers were dead or had grown to old, to fulfill that role and i was much more seriously damaged and incapable of forming the kind of friendship she managed to maintain through life. She and my even older sister were of another generation. Even more so, because of the Second World War in between our conceptions. Almost as if life took a break, a pause in that family. I, the fifth child, another daughter, the 4th, a calendaraccident, extremely unwanted, cursed at when my father found out about my mother failure and never becoming a boy inutero to make up the fact of my conception in granting him a second son, never had any of the options my second oldest sister had. Moreover, in those days little was known about PTSD in the Netherlands. Shellshock was discussed for veterans of the second world war, in professional circles, but not among the general public. Thus all my traumasymptoms went by, without ever being recognized as such. They served to add another accusation by my mother and older siblings. I was spoiled! Grinding teeth, bedwetting, sleepwalking, thumbsucking, hiding under the diningtable, when things overwhelmed me, hiding in cupboards, excessive clinging to my mother’s skirts and inability to form any lasting friendships with peers, i can know in retrospect what they are. Sometimes having the knowledge now, helps me in being stronger in my dissociation when an older sister again denies my trauma’s, again tries to sell me the: You were spoiled, being the youngest. I have come to find, when others do not share similar insight or knowledge about things, discussions rarely work or are of any real interest. Almost as if one vibrates at different frequencies where connection or communication is simply not possible. Recently i learned this is a reality for many people having lived extreme circumstances. A father having spend many years in prison for murdering his wife, while innocent or veterans returning home. It has become clear that the isolation and desperation caused by this, added on top of prior traumatic experience proves to be to much to live for many. Thus the many suicides.

My eldest sister called me a whore, when she saw me in a worksituation dressed in workclothes that were rather tight and short. My second oldest sister, the favorite of my mother, scared me to death. I who could never trust anyone, feared her more then anything. Having been unable to conceive of any children of her own, she being this extremely dominant Leo personality, i feared she would target mine and confiscate them like i had witnessed her doing to the children of my oldest sister. Silenced into nonexistence, inablity to have and respect my own boundaries, my limitations, i was also unable to talk to her about all of this, I was unable to talk to her period. The fact that she did not have children, freeing her from the many obligations that gives, left her with available time to be her mother’s ever loyal, ever available, caretaking daughter. She did everything with my mother, drove her everywhere etc. I had already suffered abuse by my first husband and increasingly felt suicidally depressed. In retrospect i can say that this is my main inheritance of my mother. It is curious though, that people having gone through similar experiences, she tried actively to commit suicide 3 times, when i was around 1 year old, are the last ones to be empathic or sympathetic when meeting someone suffering similar feelings. Possibly it is because the chose the path of denial, where i chose the path of transition. Determined to either heal this pattern in the bloodline, in the interest of future generations or to also pass on methods, or the simple convictions these kind of patterns can be healed, transcended, overcome. It became clear my mother only want these kind of loyal children and resented my honest sharing about being depressed. Even when not verbalizing it, she sensed it in my voice and told me she would prefer it if i did not call her again, for i sounded always so depressed. Going to many spiritual workshops, learning new therapeutic methods, i was directed back to my mother several times to heal the relationships. The tutors claiming doing that would in turn heal me. It never did. It cost me much, i got verbally abused again and in the end had to conclude that my mother preferred not having me in her life. To be honest i have to say that my own being triggered into a traumastate, was toxic and overwhelming, yet for me uncontrollable, until i had gained much more knowledge, insight and had practiced many, many hours of therapeutic methods to build resilience. Learning Mindfulness equiped me to better stand my uncontrollable overwhelming emotions. By then i had build a safetynet, that were therapeutic methods installed on my laptop. I had instructed my immediate familymembers, my children and their partners, that triggering could happen and that the instructions on my laptop, would help me recuperate fast and effectively. It almost worked. As a dysfunctional family we almost made it, we almost got it. But that gain meant, i had to accept the being silenced into nonexistence. Now by my own adult children. Only this time, i was the adult, the mother, who could decide it to be in their interest if i stayed in the family, steering me the path of rebuilding myself, overcoming all the ways, the pain of them often neglecting me, either because of having no time or because of lack of interest, or because of simply lacking empathy in their own genetic makeup. Life taught me even in this resilience could be build. It became easier, the more resilience i built. And everyone agreed, our family was healing, was becoming more healthy, more functional.

Then my past caught up with me. The man who had sired my youngest son, had not wanted to be his father at that time, now all of a sudden initiated contact with him through social media. All behind my back. I felt devastated of this totally disrepectful of me action. My son took his next step and say the man and his family behind my back. Then wanted my maternal support afterwards. In total shock, i instantly landed into a triggered traumastate, wanting to commit suicide instantly. I managed to regain some stability and made several appointments with this man, to motivate him in being a responsible adult, who had yet to learn to father and parent, this already adult son of mine. Each appointment i felt this man had a hidden agenda. He spoke of his illusion, that his son, would get to know him and how he wanted to add this son to his existing family with wife and 3 children. An illusion he had apparently been building for years, without ever reaching out to me to initiate renewed contact how we could find an adult responsible solution that would be healthy for my son, and safe, not harming anyone concerned. Knowing my symptoms intimately by now, i knew what this man had dreamed up, was thinking with his hidden agenda, was a situation i would be unable to live. Being highly sensitive, i felt it would kill me. Moreover it would be ongoing, never end, like the conflict between Israel and Palestine feels to be neverending. No renewed safety, equilibrium to be found. For this man and his family, simply did not care about consequences. Not for my son, let alone for me. Having RAD, Complex PTSD, makes no impression and instigates in none of them a desire to be empathic, careful, to not want to cause my demise, my death. Having free will is a sacred human right to me. It took 7 years, that my son could not choose. Then he put an ultimatum to me. I had to accept all of his choices and even support them. And i could not, i would not. Ultimatums are for enemies and not for loved ones, for families. Families need to be safe. Members need to be there for each other, because they want to be there for each other, not out of some feeling of obligation. I recognize at the same time, my son’s inherent right to get to know this man who sired him. I can make judgements, even give them labels, but in the end i choose to honor it is as it is. And it is again a situation i either learn to live through, or it will kill me. Knowing i have learned to build resilience, although in the beginning and for many months afterwards i felt as if my very soul broke into many fragmented pieces.

I trusted spirit, the universe, knowing i could never loose what was mine, what belonged in my life. Also knowing from the moment of conception, these children were mine to raise to adult, but never mine by ownership. They too, as am i, are free souls.

Attempting to keep at healing our family, appeared too much for my oldest son and daughter. I was given another ultimatum. Again i could not comply with this ultimatum, as i will never comply with any ultimatum. I am too much a courageous spiritual warrior for that. Having lived being silenced into nonexistence for decades, having struggled fiercely to retrieve all of my lost soulparts, having come so far in transcending my previous trauma’s, sometimes believing i have almost made it, other times feeling the experts are right and healing is impossible for RAD, complex PTSD, i refuse to consciously and willingly another silencing into nonexistence, to keep the sweet peace of keeping my family together.

Only after all of this happened, i read somewhere that you can say to others you need a rest. You want some time for yourself. Never before had i even contemplated such an action. Always feeling i needed to get out of a triggered traumastate immediately and find an instant solution for any kind of conflict in a relationship. I wish i had known that option, it might have prevented this total collaps of my family, which may never be possible to repair, and which will damage all those involved.

After the death of my mother as by accident or synchronicity i met with my second oldest sister. We decided to make an appointment to have a coffee together. During that appointment we found we were in fact very much alike in many of our personalitycharacteristics. Having email made a huge difference. For where i was silenced, too scared to speak, i could now find te courage to write down in an email. Knowing that the moment i would send it, i would feel terrified, but also realizing trying to build sisterhood, where we had never bonded as such, in our dysfunctional family of origin, would take either total honesty or would be of no value for me. In my life no sweet, hypocritic peace. I was clear to her from the beginning, that it might not work. It could prove to difficult and that then i would retreat again from it. Being clear meant, that could have been done in respect and not in another blow up/conflict. We are 3 1/2 years into that process now. Everytime i was surprised after having been honest in an email, that she did not threaten, murder me, throw me out. Often she said i cannot help you with it. And i could tell her, i never asked you to, but can you please stop saying that, for it hurts me when you do. And she did try not to say it anymore. Sometimes when she gets extremely stressed it returns and i have to tell her again, can you please stop saying that. I knew, had learned, the startingpoint for change, always had to be within me. Never could i, would i steep to attempting to change someone else. It took some learning for me too, to stand her uncontrollable rages, her ways of talking to people that to me sounded sometimes close to verbal abuse. I learned to let her be, who she is. I had already learned to give myself that right to be who i am, although not always managing to uphold that in practice. It may never resemble the close bond siblings have, when growing up in a healthy functional family. But i take great pride in developing this sisterbond. Accepting her as a friend on Facebook, so that she could see, all i was engaged in, all my critical comments, was a bridge too far. Luckily i discovered there was an option, i could limit her access to be an acquaintance, limiting her access to what she could see/read, but still leaving the option open for contact. In the end she herself found Facebook to complicated and i must say that feels somewhat as a relief.

It is a fragile relationship. The strength strong familybonds are supposed to have, the ability to withstand conflicts, fallouts, are simply not there. Nor is the trust, they will have my back, they will take care of me, when i fall, when i cannot anylonger. When possibly i get Alzheimer. As a brainspecialist stated in his research all sufferers of early childhood abuse do. I am still alone in my life, isolated, although no longer silenced in nonexistence. I stand my ground, even when meeting someone, who i feel, does not like me. I feel my reactive emotions, yet haveb learned to refrain from expressing those. Knowing, trusting i have build resilience, i will rebuild myself in time, even when that takes a while.

Quantummechanics teaches that when two particles, cells once shared the same space, once originated in the same parentcell, they will forever be connected through space and influence eachother, even when there is no longer any physical contact./

So it is, i have come to find, between a child and her mother, father, siblings. So it will always be even after death do us part. And i am at peace with that.

The only boundaries i need to honor and respect are my own. The boundaries i have learned to accept is the fact that other people cannot stand to be around me, with all my limitations, toxicity, symptoms. And again that is as it is.

I read the other day, if i could have changed all that, i would have done that yesterday.

In my heart i do not accept the prognoses of total inability to heal RAD, early childhoodtrauma. Even posing that question or answering it, is of no use to me. What would it achieve. I have already made my decision to continue living for now. So i would rather explore it as an adventure, which also holds many treasurefinds along the way.

In a way, i feel my personal life, suffering, to be very similar to the suffering of the downtrodden, of many oppressed peoples in the world.

Watching movies about human rights, Amnesty International etc. gives me the recognition in what terrorizing/extreme fear can do to people. How it silences them into powerlessness, nonexistence. This makes me realize, that suffering from many trauma’s, having lived intimately how it feels to be silenced into nonexistence, i not only have the courage, but also a divine, sacred duty, to learn to speak out, to refuse to stay silent any longer. To find ways to express myself in nonoffensive ways, that may reach the empathy, the humanness in other people’s hearts. I know, that having always survived through dissociation, there is this part of me, that is much stronger then others are. I have learned tools, others simply do not  have, never having needed them. I have also learned to parent and take care of myself, to transcend extreme, terrifying, overwhelming fear, that always lurks hidden inside me. I know others lack the necessary experiences, to even recognize, sense, feel this part of me. I have grown more compassionate.

I have always grown more determined to keep my eyes on the ball. To keep in mind, where i want to grow towards, what my interests are.

It is, nor ever was, in my interest to change others, so they could accommodate my symptoms or limitations.

No it is my determination, my full intention, to fully incarnate in this life, that holds my sacred destiny. This courageous spiritual warrioress, determined to speak out assertively wherever. To make a difference, to be a bridgebuilder to a humanity living according a different paradigm, then we live currently.

A paradigm, where greed, oppression, male domination, female manipulation have all become traits, morals, that are of no value to humanity.

A paradigm where we have learned to live in cohesion, cooperation. Where we are able to have debates, conflicts, discussions, without the world coming to an end. Where we will not let ourselves be divided, so that those only out for greed can play us all and we cannot stand together in our determination to protect our families, our future generations. Where we all become accomplices to other peoples, other children’s abuse, even to a level, of living in total denial of what happens in our name to people living in a different town/village/country, who like us, try to protect their families and future generations.

Abuse is not a personal trauma, it is an issue of our whole humanity. Possibly those courageous ones, seeking healing for their abuse/trauma’s, can also be the pathfinders for the rest of humantiy, changing the morphogenetic field, with every victory they have on their own limitations/symptoms. Possibly learning to be able to live and speak truth, even when all of their boundaries have been trampled by others. For in the end, those doing that, are in my opinion, very limited, ignorant humans, lacking all the traits and morals, all the spirituality and love, heartvalues, that i value about being human.

Even were they to kill me, to abort me, to murder me, i am not impressed. They do not have what it takes to destroy my soul. The only thing of real value to me, of real importance.

I am a woman now. Fear of all the above, are just  experiences, that are past, but not (yet) integrated in my nervous system. Shadows! And also real threats, when looking at the current state of affairs or our present human paradigm.

Yet the woman i have become, refuses to fear these threats, She will speak out, always choose to break the SILENCE.

In my case, BEAUTY, RESILIENCENESS and STRENGTH were build as a result from my suffering. And that gives me GRATITUDE.



Smoking and other elusive addictions

My oldest son tried stopping with smoking, reading the book by Alan Carr. He then makes the mistake of smoking this one cigarette, and is soon back into full addiction. But all 3 attempts to stop, were successfull for him. Do not take Zyban, a drug to quit smoking. Apparently it is Welbutrin with a different name. Welbutrin is or used to be a common antidepressant. Peter Levine says one should not take drugs with ptsd. When one does, one cannot engage in transforming the trauma. Endprognosis is that all organs will come to a full stop/stop working. I was in contact many years ago, thinking to do his therapy with her, who herself suffered from early childhood trauma. Her kidneys just stopped working altogether, which made me think.

I tried the therapy with a different therapist, and became more and more dangerously suicidal, so i quit. I guess 3/4 hours per session, then to be sent home in anguish, many triggered trauma’s, without transcending them, is not the way to go with complex ptsd, RAD.

I am now going to have a talk about SP/Pat Ogden. Saw a teleseminar by her, and the way she talked about transforming extreme feelings of unsafety touched me. As usual i do not know, how many consult that would take. THus i might simply not be able to afford it. As insurances cover about 5 sessions at most a year.

I once did therapy with a belgian psychiatrist called Karel Ringoet. He wrote a book Dancing with the clowns, i think the title was.

He mainly worked with schizophrenics and disabled people. His idea was to bring people in contact with their experiences in the womb, where they felt safe and attached, so that in their current reality they would improve on having more healthy social contacts. His therapy worked with the schizophrenics and handicapped and had worked with a dutch woman with similar experiences, he thought, like mine. After a telephonecall, he invited me to try out his therapy, free of charge, as to put in a claim with my insurancecompany would most likely end up negative, while costing a lot of expensive time to put in the claim.

He built a sort of artificial womb, painted red and blue veins, of cloth, attached to a large iron ring, hanging in the deep end of a swimming pool. The part of a pool they use to practice with people who learn to dive. We then learned to dive with a airbottle into that artificial womb. I was blessed that a female psychologist took an interest in my case. She dived in with me together and succeeded in making me feel what bonding in the womb would have felt like. As she was a mother herself, being clearfeeling my self and an extreme empath, i could connect with that part of her.

In his book the psychiatrist introduced his new therapy to a congress of peers. He was ridiculed and experienced how it felt to be in a borderline state, while flying back home. The female psychologist later explained to me, how all these professionals, they had invited to be present and watch the therapy, were too scared to show up, only dressed in a bathing suit. Those supposed to know the ways, the paths of our healing, are often very damaged, vulnerable, prone to secondary traumatisation, themselves.

Many years later i went to a congress for professionals about early childhood trauma. Qualified as a complimentary healthadviser was my ticket in. I never saw so many arrogant, hypocrite, contactdisturbed people together. Feeding their egostates, while only talking to peers they were already familiar with.  Talking about transference between client and therapist, telling how a client was always responsible for their own healing, guilttripping clients allover again, while charging exuberant fees to support their celebrations of their own lives. The only one i felt any report with was the waiter. Looking at the faces of all these professionals, being the extreme empath i am, i saw noone i felt safe enough with, to enter into any kind of therapy with. No wonder all or most,  this professional group now work with, is chemical pills. Chemical pills that can have devastating sideeffects and cure nothing. For Reactive Attachment Disorder, they have not yet? managed to make a pill. Possibly the Universe itself protects me in this. Leaving me this window of opportunity to collaps, get up again, and have another attempt at full transition of all my traumastates.

I guess the sessions in the womb, the minor transitions,  helped me to construct a part within me, with which i could learn many modalities to be my own therapist. That has been walking  on tiptoe. And little is needed to be triggered and to have all collapse like a house of cards. Extreme stress polluting my whole bodysystem, making my health detoriate, my pain in muscles increase, blood coming out of my nose when i blow it, possibly from inflamed brains. I go into an eatingfrenzy, even eating gluten, which my digestion cannot handle, possibly due to leaky gut syndrom, to most probably calm my nerves, resembling the sucking a baby does at the breast of its mother. I have learned to just allow for it, fighting it does not work. Like a surfer i will have to accept i have fallen of the board, almost drown, and have to get up on the board again, to try to find another wave, which holds another promise to carry me ashore.

Building stability with new neural brainpaths takes 10.000 hours of practice. But when one gets triggered, feeling like being run over by a truck, does one then have to start all over? Or dose some of the former practice still have some influence? I think the latter. But it is 3 steps forward, 2,5 backwards. And my supported loved ones, take it for granted, have no clue what it took, and just blame me for the moments i totally collaps, inconvenience them. Noone pats my shoulder, noone is fiercely proud of me.

There are some supplements that  help me with the extreme stress, irritability. Rhodiola works instantly. Ashgawanda. And i use Niacine, the flushkind, B3, to deal with suicidal depressions. When taking high doses, it is said to be even able to prevent a suicideattempt. Since i take it, i no longer had ongoing suicidaldepression lasting for weeks, sometimes months.

I do not know, but most likely it is an inherited inprint, from my mothers suicidal depressions/attempts, in the days inutero, or when she tried to kill herself when i was 1 year old and she found out about my father’s adultery.

I have noticed different brands of cigarettes have different effects on the brain.  My exhusband smoked Marlboro. If he did not smoke for more then half an hour, he went crazy. Many additives are added to tobacco, among them marihuana, and ammonia. Sauce they call it. Some or all tobacco is now GMO, the paper is full of chlorine, mixing those together, seems to cause a very unhealthy exposurerisk.

My exhusband took my advice to try out rolling his own cigarettes with what we call shag. Samson or Drum. There was a significant effect. It made him a lot calmer and better to stand not smoking for a while longer then half an hour.

I cannot stand passive smoking. Get terribly ill when someone smokes in front of me. Possibly my body cannot eliminate any toxins.

I stopped when pregnant, some 39 years ago. My first husband abandoned me when almost 4 months pregnant, after severely abusing me. I often stayed with his parents, who felt terribly guilty.   My father in law was a chainsmoker and he kept telling me to take a cigarette. After my son was born, he succeeded. Then my body started detoriating. I got trouble in walking. I was told my kneecaps were gone, had lost the cartilege on the inside and i would probably end up in a wheelchair within a year. I had also trouble breathing. So i decided to do a fullstop smoking.  Drank 7 big glasses of water a day for one week and it was effortlessly. As i was a shagsmoker, i missed rolling my cigarettes when in a pub, as that always gave me some space, some safety to observe my surroundings. Check for danger or  relative safety in others. That lasted for a decade. In the beginning to handle that i smoked 1 havanna cigar, when in the pub. I knew i would not get addicted to those. After a while i stopped that too. Having trouble while others were smoking in front of me lasted for a decade. Being susceptible to falling ill, loosing all brainfunctions has been ongoing. Even when forbidden by law, to smoke in a workrelated invironment, smokers, who can get away, avoid being seen, will do it anyway, no matter the debilitating effect on others. Even when told previously, how i pay for each exposure, even when outside in nature, they do not change their actions or possibly cannot. They will expose me even without any warning. On railwayplatforms they now risk € 90,00 for doing so. But recently i saw a worker give a warning laughingly, saying his colleagues might react differently.

The consequence of my quitting smoking,  was my inability to stand passive smoking returned. It took a long time, before i myself, made that link. For many years doctors told me it was chronic sinusitis, and i was given many antibiotic cures. In time the connection became clear to me. Now when exposed i can stay sick for many weeks. my brainfunctions go instantly, causing Alzheimer like symptoms. Taking many brainsupplements helped me to reverse that. But today i have again blood in my handkerchief when blowing my nose, feeling as if coming out of my brain. So i suspect my braininflammation has returned due to all the stress over the total recent collapse.

Every time i wonder, death feeling very close, if i will again manage to reverse things back in some kind of survivalstability.

Today i will try to get back into some of my therapeutic methods.

If my second son, got some clarity, on how severe, lifeendangering my symptoms become, when he started pushing me to act, talk in a certain way, so others will not feel so inconvenienced by what i am, symptoms included, it was worth it. Communicating to him how extremely afraind, terrorized/terrified i become was possibly a breakthrough in taking my place as i am in this reality, regardless of the consequences. Regardless of whether i have parental permission or not. My angellobes know, i do not need that kind of permission. The very fact, that i was born, is all the universal permission  i need, to have the right of existence. People who deny someone to have that right, like my mother, my father did, are fools in those aspects of themselves. And of course, they are also not/never their symptoms. Blame, hate never works and i was, again due to those angellobes, only forgiveness and never blame. Writing deepfelt emotions, was just an effort in sharing, hoping they would understand and thus become a less toxic presence in my life.

My letters did not. The blame against me got even more and everlasting, never to be forgiven.

When called one day to visit my mother, i found her not to be at home. So i asked her neighbour, knowing she was in contact with her, whether she knew where my mother was. I was told she was with my sister. I had taken my 2 cool, not easily  triggered, sons along  to provide some  safety. When arriving at my sister, it appeared they had found my mother almost dead, black and blue bruised, lying after the frontdoor. The visit went ok.

But i got put in a spot, when my very dominant, estranged sister, asked me whether i was a grandmother. I cannot lie, so yes, i am of 2 grandchildren.

Grandchildren i never mentioned, wanting to protect them from my toxic family.

Then my internal struggle began, whether i had a right to not introduce them to their greatgrandmother.

In the end i decided i had not, made an appointment.

When i came with my son, his wife, toddler and baby, it felt so toxic, i wanted to leave, protect my grandchildren, immediately. My mother was not even out of bed. Later my sister told me she had not want to get up and meet me. Then why did i make an appointment?

Apparently they had expected me to come alone with the children. Not bring along the breastfeeding mother and my son. My son having stayed for a while, when addicted to drugs, with that sister, without my knowledge or permission. Institutions helping young people to correct their lives, had promised me they could deal with my son, who had become more and more threatening and disruptive to his siblings. Some fool, a former heroinaddict himself, with a very bad relationship with his own mother, had taken an instant dislike to my assertive being. He broke all communication with me, and instead approached my sister, telling her she was the only one who could give my son a roof above his head. She had no knowledge about drugaddicts and i was complying with advice from youthpolice and childprotectionservices, to put my son out on the street, with the expectation he would discover soon enough how hard that life was, so that he would return home, with insight in his dysfunctional behaviour. All of this almost cost my son his life.

I do not do blame, always forgive.

But apparently my sister and her husband, had not, could not. So my visit to my mother, with my grandchildren. exploded into abusive shouting by my brother in law to my son. All i could do was to get the children out as soon as possible, to get my son and daughter in law out.

I tried to soothe my brother in law, saying trauma is trauma, pain is pain. I wanted noone to suffer. Then my sister started raging, misinterpreting our entering without kissing her in denying her the right to be present in her own house. While the real truth was i almost feel, baby in my arms, over the standing in the way stroller/walker of my mother. None of us wanted or intended anyone to get hurt, nor did we want to allow my dominant, controlling sister to take over our lives.

In the end i got triggered. Her mistaken efforts with my son had almost cost him his life. She had not called or written me in those days, about his whereabouts, telling me he was safe. There were times i believed my son to be dead in some gutter. Later she even told me how she and others had read a personal letter from me to my son. Not being on my level of thinking lacking all capacity to even to that letter justice, or to understand it correctly.

I had stayed silent, but i broke. I started screaming how she had almost caused my son’s death, by her unprofessional interventionattempts. Only much later i learned that my interpretation of those had been false too. I always believed her to want to steal my children, having none of her own. Instead it was the former heroinaddict, who put her on the spot, telling her there was noone else. Which was a lie. There were several adults in my personal surroundings, who were involved as caretakers, legal guardians in my children’s lives at that time.

What sister does not call a nephew’s mother, her babysister,  when things go wrong. Things she knew nothing about. I felt she wanted to steal my child/children. She had been unable to have any of her own.

I was informed my mother no longer wanted me or allowed me to visit her. I was banned from her deathbed, her dead body in her coffin and her funeral. I cannot interprete that decision. Lacking too much information on what it was based on.

That whole year of her dying, i kept my heart open for my mother. Not in hope that she would change  her mind, ask for forgiveness, tell me she really did love me, but in case she wanted me/needed me to be there at her deathbed, to be there again as her mother, her confidante, the only one she could really talk to. I had no expectations. Was aware it might never happen. I felt responsible for her until the moment i was informed by an anonimous notary, that she had died a week previously, and was buried a day previously. I called my children, and we went to her grave immediately. Cold iron slabs covering a grave. My youngest son saw a tiny space between the slabs, through which we could see her white coffin. I put flowers in her favorite colours, white and blue, gentian among them, in a vase at the grave. The Bachremedy for devastating sadness. Standing there i was not a daughter, nor were my children grandchildren burying their grandmother. I felt more, while standing at a grave in Cielle, The Ardennes in Belgium, where a 18 year old had died in the first worldwar, his mother expressing her deep grief on the stone, for me to read. Emptiness of never having bonded with this woman who had birthed me. It felt as if she had not lingered close to earth, like i felt my father had done for weeks. It felt she had travelled straight into the lightrealms and i could let go, trusting from then on angels would take care of her.

When visiting my mother, staying/living with my sister, the greatgrandmother of my grandchildren, for which i had made a special appointment with that sister to do so, I put my little granddaughter, in my mother’s arms, whilst supporting all the weight myself. My mother afflicted with arthritis, overcome daily/nightly by extreme pain, haven shrunken 20 cm in 2 years. Afterward her death,  i was told, she had complained to my sister, how that child was much too heavy for her. I intended to let her have the most precious experience i thought a human could have, to hold your great granddaughter in your arms, and she just dumped it again as burdensome garbage. Just the way she had made me feel, when a toddler, when needing an operation in the hospital when 3, or when my siblings were very ill, or even when i lay sick in my bed myself.

Apparently even for greatgrandchildren she could neither feel, nor fake any love.

Some people are prone to gossip. And i believe that was the wavelength, the frequency she was on with that sister.

Now making an attempt to become sisters, belatedly, she is of another generation, 12 years my senior, i observe that sister’s own traumatized responses. Exploding into uncontrollable raging, mostly seeing the negative in situations, meeting conflicts whereever she goes. And a different side of hers. Having friends everywhere. Being a caretaker of everyone’s needs.

For me she is a force too dominant, too strong. I drift into a timeless zone while with her. But this time i have a defense, of having built myself into this very assertive woman. Even when i cannot say things in reallife contact, directly or by phone, i can email her later.

This week twice though, she has taken over my life. I was ordered to directly come and collect some items from my mother’s home at her house, which is one hour’s drive away, costing me too much on petrol alone. And now i am ordered to go and visit my eldest sister in hospital on sunday, tomorrow. Who has had a kneereplacement and is almost 80.

A new challenge which terrifies me. How am i going to find a new balance in accepting she takes over my life, and sticking to my own therapeutic methods to gain back some form of stability?

It is hard to be the youngest and the only one dealing with the consequences of having lived in such a dysfunctional/abusive family of origin. Saying i am mild, one only starts doing something about the trauma’s when all other options are not open, but living that facing it directly is a different thing.

For future generations though, i want to continue this next step in healing my bloodline. And i guess my siblings, although they never were that during my childhood, banning me, upholding the denial of my right of existence by my parents, or having fled the abusive home themselves, are part of that bloodline.

How strong, how adult do i need to be? And how then am i going to protect/take care of this foetus, this child calling for care, nurture, attention, for being given the right of existence, permission to live/be alive. She who remains invisible to others, unperceived.

Yet for me she comes first. She has to come first, or the combination of all my different fragmented states, will cease to exist alltogether.  My mothering is no longer needed by my adult children. I now need to mother her. Accept my adult children are getting hurt by this. My grandchildren are possibly getting hurt by this. Hoping they are equiped to handle this, worrying attachment disorders are, have been passed on to next generations.

My son, does not take as much precaution as to which video’s or books to expose his children. I worry about the way their brains are inprinted.

And i know my grandchildren cannot help, that adults in  this world do not assume responsibility and expose their little brains to false illusions, paving the path for future disappointments, future failure.

In some children’s dvd there is even pornography hidden, stripteaseclubs. Unrecognizable for their young minds, but inprinting the patterns for when they get to be adults.

My son, have not learned from me, to check all books, all children’s dvd’s/movies on their contents.

My daughter in law worries about her children wearing a cap when bicycling at a low speed, but she has no clue there are much more important things she has to protect her children’s brains against. I guess for some women, becoming pregnant, pregnancy, breastfeeding is just another kind of addiction. Just the other week it was on teletext how pregnancy of a first child causes this ultimate high in both parents, prior to giving birth. Apparently it only works with the first child. Possibly another thing comes into play, mothers projecting their own unlivable issues into their children, or mothers living life through their children, as the only option they got.

I was blessed, reading books, that making one’s children into emotional partners was the worst kind of abuse one could inflict on one’s children. But possibly i was so good at that, i did not teach my children, that respecting, loving , taking care of one’s mother was just another duty in life one had to assume willingly. She who had carried you for 9 or 10 months, in my case, in her body, fed you even when malnourishing you, even when her womb felt like Guantanomo bay.

I created my children to be a counterbalance, for the rightwing politicians. For a long time now, i understood, how i raised/educated my children from a soulperspective, one of my fragmented states. Only now i learned, all this time a researcher was aware of what he called angellobes. Paul Maclean.

And i wonder, if any professional had kept up, had taken the trouble to learn from and of his work, what damage could have been prevented.

When i learned about PTSD, through reading a book by Judith Herman, the Netherlands still did not speak about ptsd. The knowledge was 25 years behind the US it was stated. Some therapists had just started treating some patients suffering a one time traumaevent. Like policemen or veterans. Until having a random look at Amazon, under the catagory of attachment, had i ever heard of reactive attachment disorder. Yet i had been screaming all the symptoms, to several therapists for decades.

Possibly they were still addicted to the memes of Freud. Memes he all recanted on his deathbed. A man himself addicted to cocaine, an adulterer to the wife he married.


imagesCA0V6MTS silence

I have gone into the silencemode. Cannot find the words to express myself.

Yesterday my brain misfired commands of walk, movement to my body, resulting into the familiar slowmotion, spastic movements i was familiar with many years ago. Sometimes shifting into total immobility, that could last for hours. The first time it took me by surprise. On a cold stone floor in a belgian monastery, where i was attending a workshop Rebirthing by Leonard Orr. Leonard was often absent in his own workshop, apparently rebirting himself for hours in a bathtub in the hotel he stayed in. Not much of a responsibility, starstruck more likely. I thought i was struck by acute MS, might die there and then. People around me panicked, yet i did not want them to call paramedics or an ambulance, which felt even more terrifying. It lasted for 3 hours. Many years those kind of symptoms happened on a regular basis, scaring my then young children, until they too became familiar with a mother, who all of a sudden collapsed, loosing all ability to walk. Sometimes i could still crawl, at other times only my head would move. I learned to trust that my brains would find the way back. Sometimes the feeling started back in my little finger, and from there, i could sort of allow it to flow into all other parts of mybody.

Walking like a spastic, slowmotion, in the middle of anonymous Ikea is almost funny, when observing myself in a detached way. For emotions are not in play, when my body reacts this way. Even when i, the observer, knows i am so severely triggered into a traumastate, that my brain cannot related commands to my nervoussystem/muscles etc. There have been times i needed help, i needed to tell someone i could no longer move, while standing  behind my shoppingcart, or how i was not able to stand in line, too frightened of any other person standing close to me.

I am used to people not understanding me.

But reading the other day some small article about a researcher called Paul Maclean, describing the state of angellobes, sort of infuriates me. A different kind of abuse all over. A professional describing, what i have been describing for decades to professionals i consulted for therapy. Noone knew of him and noone got me. How much damage could have been prevented to those i caused suffering, because of my many uncontrollable traumastates.

It is not that i did not try, to find help, knowledge in those supposed to have it. They did not. Possibly were still educated in University with the theories of Freud. Theories he all came back on, on his deathbed, refuting their validity. Freud who was hooked on cocain. Who would even want a therapist who cannot deal with his own addiction. I would not.

Today is deep sadness, like a ball, a bowlingball, hard, uncomfortable in the space of my third chakra. Yet i am calmer, awaiting FLOW trusting, my brain knows how to selfregulate. Accepting if there ever comes a time, my brain no longer knows, death will gently welcome me in a tranquil, ever lasting, motherly embrace.