Despite 2 rain showers, we had good fun at the Bollekesfeesten in Antwerp tonight. Good food, good company, a nice glass of Prosecco and a smile from that cute girl behind the ice cream bar… What else do you need?
Is it me, or do most people have more rights than I have?
For years I have put other people’s needs and wants before my own. Said “YES” way more often than “NO”. Actually, I tried to help where I could, often even volunteering to help. And often at the expense of my own projects and things to do. I must admit, I get great pleasure out of doing things for others. A dinner table full of people enjoying a meal that I just cooked, is the greatest joy to me. And if you’d give me a compliment about the food, I would be smiling for a week.
I said “NO” to a Photoshop request the other day and got a few people upset. And I didn’t say “NO” bluntly: I apologized and said I didn’t want to do it because of many personal reasons. I even said I was no longer accepting these sort of request from anyone. Still that wasn’t enough, and what followed was a 30 minute discussion on way I didn’t want to do it. All the cliche arguments were there: “it only takes you 5 minutes to do it”, “you are good a Photoshop, so just do it”, “you’ve done these things before, so why not do it now?”, and many more.
I have to deal with a lot of negative replies to things I ask: colleagues that don’t have time to help me, friends not wanting to go out to a movie with me, people not replying to mails or text messages or phone calls, contractors not wanting to come and do a job even when they know they will get paid, holiday requests that are ignored. And I say “NO” to 1 little request and people get mad with me? Am I only allowed to say “YES”?
Don’t you get it? There are limits to this little boy. I can only do so much. I only wanna do so much.
Is has been a while since I last heard from my unwanted friend: no calls, no mails, no text messages for more than 7 weeks now. I feel slightly relieved. I slept quite well these last few weeks, and I didn’t think about the situation until tonight when I realized it had been awhile since I heard from him/her.
Still, I am asking myself if this ordeal is really over, or will it start over again in a while? I’m afraid that that question is gonna stick to my mind for a long time. It is something I will have to learn to live with. Honestly, I struggle with the fact that I still don’t have a clue of who was/is harassing me. I would have like to see him/her be brought to justice. Not for revenge, but to find closure for myself.
Don’t take the psychological effects of stalking lightly. I am experiencing them first hand. And even though I try not to pay too much attention to the problem, I find myself thinking about it a lot more than I want. It pops up in my dreams, I lay awake tryin’ to find answers to so many questions I get asked. There is the occasional anxiety when I receive a text message or when answering a call from an unknown number.
And then of course, I am still uncertain if this will ever stop. I mean, even if it would stop now, it could start all over again in a couple of months or years.l
Filing a complaint with the police surely was a big step forward. I should have done that a lot sooner. I must say that local police has been very helpful. They took my complaint very serious. I was actually a bit surprised about that. But of course, all of it takes time and still the outcome of their investigation is uncertain. And to be honest, I have run out of patience. I want the matter resolved today!
I am just tired of answering the same questions over and over again. I really don’t know who is bugging me. I don’t even have a clue. I don’t even wanna try and take a wild guess. I’ve asked myself the same questions too and I have not found any answers. I don’t wanna try to get in somebody else’s head and guess what they are thinking. All I can do, is ask some of the same questions and hope there is someone out there that can provide answers. And other than that: I’m trying keep my head clear of those questions. I am fighting a loosing battle…
My parents imposed a curfew on me when I was a teenager. Even up until I left for college, I had to be home at 1 AM on a Saturday night. And just as any other teenager, I was not happy about it. I got into many arguments with my parents about my curfew. But despite those arguments, I respected their decision and always made sure I got home in time.
Except that one time… As usual, I left the party just in time to get home in time. But I ran into problems with my bike. I had to stop several time to fix my bike. I got home 10 minutes after my curfew: my hands all greasy and dirty, sweat dripping down my chin from pedaling has hard as I could. My parents were upset because I was late. And they were worried. I can understand and respect that. I got grounded for a couple of weeks after this little incident. I guess that is understandable. I guess I would ground my children too if they were late.
But I didn’t understand that they didn’t believe me when I explained what happened. And I still don’t understand. And to make matters worse, this story kept haunting me for many years. Every once in while, my parents told that story to friends and family. Mostly to tease me I guess. But what they didn’t see was that it hurt me every time they told it. It was and still is pretty humiliating to have to sit and listen to that story. Did they not have more respect for me?
You know, a lot of people are talking about respect these days. Many people complain about others not having enough respect for them. People ask me to show a bit of respect and do or not do stuff for them. But if, 15 minutes later, I ask that same person to do something for me, they slam the door in my face. I listen and learn when colleagues critique my photos. And yet, those same folks get very upset when I try to help them improve their photos. I have learned to shut up and let other people talk in meetings. But I still get brutally interrupted when I want to express my opinion. And of course there is that little matter of promises and appointments bein’ broken just as easy as they are made. Hey, some are even try to buy my respect and loyalty!
Where is the respect in all of that? But I guess I’m not perfect. And I could show a little more respect too. I start with that… Can all you all do the same?
I am getting very offensive text messages and phone calls from some anonymous guy. I’ve been getting them for over a year now. They come off and on. At first, it didn’t bother me too much. I thought that it was just gonna go away. But the messages kept coming. And so did the calls.
So, I filed a complaint. At first with the BIPT, which resulted in nothing. And a couple of months ago, I filed a complaint with the local police. Fortunately, they take my complaint serious. But I don’t have high hopes. The wheels of justice grind at very slow pace.
And a couple of days ago, I got an e-mail from people I don’t know who claimed I contacted them on a community website. I had never heard of that website. I have never heard of those people. So I wonder if it is just another way of trying to harass me. And if so, I am afraid of what’s gonna happen next.
Apparently, I am not his only victim. But the bad thing is: I should not have anything to do with all of it. These messages aren’t even about me. He’s just trying to hurt someone else.
Some of my friends describe me as sweet and patient. Well, I’ve run out of patience! I want it to stop! I have nothing to do with that shit! Leave me be! Go bug someone else! YES!!! I AM PISSED OFF!!!
Some people seem to believe I don’t have my priorities straight. But I guess I have never made it clear what my priority list is. So to be on the safe side… My priority list:
If you believe this list is wrong, you could try to convince me to change it. Bribing me is not the way to go. And lying isn’t either.
I come across a lot of dead animals on the side of the road the last couple of weeks: foxes, martens, squirels, a badger too. And cats. A lot of cats. Too many cats.
Tonight as I drove home, I came across a little kitten laying in the middle of the road. Severly wounded, but still alive. I guess it was hit by a car not long before. Maybe like 10 or 15 minutes before. There was nothing I could do for the poor little animal. I only could put it out of it’s misery. And as I put my car in reverse to do so, I could feel my heart break. I hate having to do something like that so much.
So floks, please be extra careful and watch out for animals crossing the road. Especially at night.
I have this ringing in my ears for more than 3 years. Maybe even more than 5 years. The kinda thing you have after goin’ to a concert: a high pitch tone and the sensation of slight pressure on your ears. Now, I’m not the kinda of guy that believes that ignorance is bliss, so I thought it was about time to see a doctor about this.
I didn’t have high hopes. My ears had to endure a lot of loud noise over the years: way too many concerts, many hours in large computer rooms, etc. I’ve done some reading on the matter and I am afraid that my hearing suffered permanent damage from all of that noise. I was even expecting my hearing to be less than average.
Much to my surprise, the hearing test showed that my hearing is just fine. That was sort of a relief. But even though I hear the test tones just fine, the ringing was often 10 times louder than the test tones. The bad news is that the doctor confirmed my fears: the ringing is probably due to damage to my inner ear and it is never gonna go away. There is no medication that will solve the problem. The ringing can be suppressed with anti-depressive medication.
Conclusion: my hearing is OK, the problem resides between my ears. I guess that makes me a little insane, or doesn’t it?
As I was flipping through the channels tonight, I stumbled on a scene from a police series: a whole classroom was pickin’ on 1 person until he was just desperate enough to do horrible stuff. In an instant, my mind blanked, I completely froze and had flashbacks of a school trip to Italy in my last year of high school. I got reminded of that horrible feeling I had every time I got on the bus and the whole bus started calling me names and chanting the same song over and over again. And everyone joined: people who didn’t know me, some hadn’t even ever engaged in a conversation with me, but even some of my friends. And I guess no one ever cared that bullying really hurts.
I wonder why people do this. Even today, I wonder why some people called me their friend back then, but never bothered to defend me. But I guess that in this dog-eat-dog world, it is safer to join the masses. What is everyone so afraid off? That someone might actually like for all that you are if you show yourself just the way you are?