Journal of a Dutch Uncle (possible triggers on just about anything)

[Dutch Uncle]

Well, quite some stuff has happened since my last post here, and much has been said on that elsewhere on the forum.

points 514) 515) and 516) in my (updated) OP refer to that.
They are all related to X-mas-time.

I also made a post in the "Religious abuse" section on my 'God-fearing' dad, where I wrote:

NB: My dad is (what I think is  ) a Calvinist, which is exemplified by the fact that he corrects himself (or me) if he tells a story about something "nice" he has experienced.
"Ehrm no, it wasn't "nice", I don't like "nice". It was "Good". This is not a one off now and then, nope: it's a reiterated matter of principle.

Well, yesterday I got a "Happy New Year"-card of him.
Off-course it didn't say "Happy New Year" but, in the true spirit of my dad:
"I wish you a good and useful/meaningful/purportful* 2016."
Sure, I suppose it's meant nice, but after a night of sleeping over it, it (unconsciously) dawned on me: I have to achieve! I have been given a task! I better not look back, 365 days from now, and realize "Nah, didn't achieve a thing. I just had a nice/happy 2016."
Bad Uncle. Bad bad bad Uncle.

Well, he can stuff it. I'm going to party like it's 2016, every day I can in 2016. That'll be good enough for me.
I'll probably have a few parties that suck. Oh well. It's the parties that are a ball that matter.


*) hard to translate the Dutch word he used, but there is a connotation with 2016 actually having to 'make sense'. I don't know if in English there is a word for the opposite of 'senseless', but in Dutch we have, and it is that word he used.

[woodsgnome]

Not to barge in on a journal entry, but I think an English word that might describe the opposite of "senseless" is "relevant". I just used it in another context so it was floating around the brain matter and it matched what you seemed to be reaching for.

As long as I'm here, I'll just add that your struggles with all the hoovering, etc. seem at least to be allowing you some clarity for where you feel you need to be in this process. The rest of the road probably won't be any easier, but you have a better handle on it, too. Congratulations   

[Dutch Uncle]

First off, thank you woodsgnome. Your post has not gone unnoticed, and has been and still is much appreciated.


Secondly, and the main reason I make another entry in this recovery journal is that I found this article here (thanks, Behea1ty !) an inspiration, and an anchor for the progress I've made in the last year(s):
http://mindfulconstruct.com/2010/07/09/end-a-codependent-relationship-the-healthy-way/

The conclusion of the article...:

Avoid codependency relapse by staying with your pain

Because you're trying to control the situation. You're trying to end your pain with force.

The whole point of healing from codependency is to finally feel your pain! To finally listen not only to your anger, but the deep wounds that lurk beneath it.

So don't get rid of the other person just to avoid being reminded of how much they have hurt you, how vulnerable you are, and how horribly you can be hurt — for the rest of your entire life. Just work on yourself instead. Keep your relationship with you strong, and your other relationships will naturally fall into place

End a codependent relationship not by focusing on separating from the other person, but by reconnecting with who you are.

When you really heal from codependency, you see the frailty of humanity. You see how delicate you are, and how chaotic and dangerous that means life can be.

...resonates strongly with me, and I do feel that this is mostly what I have done with my codependency with regard to my abusive FOO.

I've reconnected, set boundaries, ended dysfunction, followed up with action on boundary-violations and witnessed that without dysfunction and codependency there is no other relationship (to continue).

As the article also says:

How to end a codependent relationship the healthy way

You end a codependent relationship, the healthy way, by transforming your behavior.

A relationship requires two people.

A codependent relationship automatically ends when you stop relating to the other person in codependent ways — regardless of whether you actually "end" the relationship, or if it naturally falls apart.

A codependent relationship automatically ends when you develop a healthy, working relationship with your anger (in other words, yourself) and use that relationship as a springboard for creating and maintaining sound personal boundaries that protect you.

When I've read the article a second, a third time I did see my ending of my codependent relationships with my FOO-members could probably have been a bit better. But it's been thoroughly "good enough" the way I handled it.
For a first go at it, it was pretty brilliant all things considered.
And any copy I'll make now or in the future will still be a "good enough" way. It doesn't have to be brilliant, let alone perfect. Ending codependency is a tough job. An emotional job and a mentally challenging one.

I can do this.
And I may draw confidence from that.

When you reread this in time, Dutch Uncle, let me have reminded you of that.
Peace.
Keep going strong.
Your younger Self. 

[V]

DU you

[V]

    sorry, DU you journaled so much, I think that is/was a good way to help work yourself through this. I am not sure that would have helped me but I do find myself writing alot down when I am troubled with keeping track of things for whatever reason ...

    my "awareness" started at age 7 so if I had journaled my entire life - I am now 57 - ha, I may have surely beaten the number of your stack of journals. Someday I hope that you are able to finally and happily take them all out to the burning pit and light them up! well, that is a nice thought but so much work ... one might not want to even think about that ... but if you can come to the point that you have absolutely no doubt anymore then maybe it is time to just stop and get on with your life of freedom and believe me it's super duper peaceful !

    me for instance, just eliminated those family members from my life that truly were out to cause me pain - mainly my mother - and the rest of the siblings, well I tolerate them once a year at the family picnic where they oogle and google me to see what I am up too - ha, now who are they to say anything to me but I would cut them short like butter

   I love the wolf quotes by the native american indians ... "throw me out to the wolves and I will return leader of the pack"

keep the faith DU and god bless you and all of us ... Peace, V ! 

[Dutch Uncle]

Someday I hope that you are able to finally and happily take them all out to the burning pit and light them up! well, that is a nice thought but so much work ...

My TherapistMom once suggested to burn my journals. Which I then did.
It didn't help a damned thing. It only has led to erasing part of my recorded memory.
It may have taken a long while, but in the end my journalling has led me out of the FOG, when I started to write down some suspicions (I might even say: predictions on fake promises that were made to me) and they turned out to be accurate.
That started the ball rolling on Gaslighting. There might be much more of that in my journals. Trashing them is not an option.

And I would appreciate if god can be kept out of this thread. There is no such thing.
Which makes me remind myself of another great article I read on the very same site:
http://mindfulconstruct.com/2010/05/28/how-the-new-age-is-the-new-religion/
that sums up so much of my experience in/with TherapistMom's belief system.

For laughs I should remind myself to this YouTube clip: "Oh God, It's Mom" - Mother Calls to Scold Sons During Political Debate on LIVE TV  The    both sons make... I can relate.

edit: changed the link to the youTube vid, as the original has disappeared.

[Dutch Uncle]

I posted part of this elsewhere on the board, yet my mind is running off with it. In a good manner, but I realize that what my mind is running off with is a private matter. And that belongs here.

I tried this the other day, and it worked pretty well I think. Didn't feel unauthentic at all.
Weird, yes. (as in: unfamiliar) (There's probably some 'pun' hidden in the unfamiliar there. Now my thoughts are racing. )
I pictured myself in my parents-house, way back. Picked up the small boy that got so molested there, sat down, inside that house, way in the open in the living room*, and hugged and held 'him'. It felt quite physical even.
I'll try to do that more. Thanks.

You mentioned elsewhere (I think. Can't find it anymore. So perhaps it was somebody else who said this) that you spoke to the Inner Child as "you (me) are safe now" (or words to that effect). The "you (me)" struck a chord, as I earlier this month I 'spoke' to my Inner Child, and also referred to us as "We". That also allowed an 'opening up' to the "me" of now, as well as the "me" of then.
We'll be making a great team.    "Me, myself and I." 

added here for the purpose of personal journalling:
I only now realized that the physical abuse that my brother inflicted on me most often (always?) was done in plain sight, in the middle of the living room! Not somewhere hidden and secret, like in the back of the house or in my room or some such... Nope, right in front of everybody. Like he needed the stage... I made a post once about my brother blowing the horn (which was about him actually playing a horn) and suddenly I see a connection. I may read more in it than warranted, but probably not.
But the fact I sat down with my "Dutch Boy" in the living room is because that's where I picked him up, where he was left after his beatings. Central Stage. And that's exactly where I should comfort him.

I then realized I got more to add to another post I made:

Perhaps I'll read the book at some point. [...] Luckily I can read German, so when I feel up to it I can. It will probably cause a parade of EF's though.

Why did I write "luckily I can read German"?
There's no luck at all involved.
First I had to study it at secondary school (which was a bloody drag. "Damned Nazi's" and all that. Pretty convenient for kids in puberty to rebel against. Easy target. "I'm not going to put any effort in THAT"    Still, I had to pass my 'overall' grades. There was only 'so much' I could get 'away with'. So the bare minimum, that's where I was heading. Which still required a decent effort after dropping well below 'The Mark'.  ).
After that I boosted my knowledge. By making German friends (in adolescence, post secondary school. What the * did they had to do with anything that had passed? They weren't born then, just as I wasn't. I should make a post on that one time. Talking about a paradigm-shift! That was one! And boy, do I was conscious of it. Life-changing moment.  ), visiting them, speaking their language, and THAT is why I became pretty proficient in German.
Luck had nothing to do with it.
Effort, diligence, interest and most of all: A desire to communicate with my fellow human beings. If it took to learn a new and foreign language*, then so be it. The folks were definitely worth it. And so was I.
*) note to self: Language in this case is not just restricted to "linguistics". But the art and skill of putting an effort into hearing "meaning" in words, sounds, utterances, expressions.
Empathy in optima forma in my honest opinion and, most important, in my honest experience.

It's one thing to (inaccurately) think one is responsible for things outside one's control.
It's another thing to (inaccurately) think one cannot take credit for what one has brought under one's own control. 
The latter is probably even more counter-productive than the former. 

[Dutch Uncle]

Placeholder post. At some point in the I will probably elaborate on this. I already did on loose sheets at home. But to put this into something coherent, in english as well... that may take some more time.

Anyway, Martin Miller's story triggered all this.

For now I will post the clip of "Nurse Ratched" from "One flew over the cuckoo's nest". It exemplifies for me what it has meant to have a TherapistMom.

In previous posts I already stated that my 'mom' (mentally) left "the house" when I was very young. Six, seven years old. Possibly even before that. By the time I was twelve my 'mom' had been fully replaced by her role/incarnation as Family Therapist/Marriage Counselor.

Nurse Ratched, in this scene, is the embodiment of it. "you know Billy, your mom and I are old friends, how could I not tell her this?"

It's the intimate relationship between 'mom' and '(Psychiatric) nurse' that takes precedence over the wellbeing ('cure') of 'Identified Patient' Billy. "Son of..."
How could "Nurse Ratched" forgo her obligation to her "old friend 'mom' ", even in face the fear-driven animalistic plea of 'son' Billy?

Billy starts beating himself up, due to the utter (internalized) conflict the 'mom' and his 'nurse' conspire too. Neither of them is even one bit interested in Billy's joy and/or wellbeing. They are driven by their complicit efforts to control him. And to keep him 'institutionalized'.

Nurse Ratched and Billy's mom are one and the same person.
For all practical purposes at least. From Billy's point of view experience.
Billy (and me) are encouraged to share all the deepest thoughts, feelings, experiences at 'the ward' . To be subsequently shared by the 'nurse' with 'mom', who will then judge. And punish. Well, both of them, in tandem. The 'nurse' will know the best 'therapeutic' punishment.
Nurse Ratched is "Stettbacher" in the case of Martin Miller. Well, in my translation/transference of the 'real life case' to the fiction of the movie that is. 

***trigger warning: malignant psychological warfare and subsequent utter breakdown of the victim. Violence.***
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Onm5gjgL97Y

I want to end this post on a lighter note:
The acceptance speech of 'Nurse Ratched' at the Oscar's.
Especially moving how she thanks her parents in sign-language.
Louise Fletcher Wins Best Actress: 1976 Oscars

[Dutch Uncle]

Well, the last days have been stormy. Not coping that well, boozing...
The only upshot with boozing is that I keep working through stuff. I drink beer, so it's a 'small drip'. Sometimes I think the sedation makes it able for me to feel the pain and frustration that otherwise would be too hard to bear and I would just seep it under the rug again, avoid it.
That does sound like a lame excuse for boozing though.

Anyway, I have been working through the FOO and NC/LC, and I'm ever edging closer to giving DramaMama the boot completely. I'm even rehearsing some very MC short sentences to bring her the bad news.
It feels like progress. There's still an umbilical chord so to speak. She has never cut it and has used it like a puppeteer-string. Time to get out the scissors and cut it myself.

Did have one other rather interesting thought I'd like to share:
In my research on Asperger's and it's effect on those around them, I stumbled on the term "Ongoing Traumatic Relationship Syndrome" (OTRS) and posted some on it elsewhere.
I guess DramaMama suffers from that. Sad thing is, since she herself has appointed as Marriage-therapist she has been the main driving force for the "Ongoing" part of the equation. 15 years after her divorce she STILL wants to (and does) talk things over with dad.    So the Traumatic Relationship is STILL Ongoing. Good Grief. For dad as well. (Why he puts up with it is a mystery as well. I guess he still hopes she'll come back to him...)

All that is only an extra reason to cut the ties, as she no doubt will continue my Traumatic Relationship with her indefinitely, as relation-therapist off course, so I'll be stuck in this rut forever if I would relapse back.
I'm sure she'll do something outrageous at some point, and that'll be a good point to say "Farewell." So I don't have to bring the news 'out of the blue', making me the bad guy. (Well, I'm already the bad guy, and no matter what I'll be evil anyway, but at least it will not have been me picking an outrageous fight. Good for my own piece of mind.)

[Dutch Uncle]

So, today I finally dared to delve into my old diaries.

Goal: to reconstruct the dates of my parents divorce.
I have already embarked on preparing an 'anniversary calendar' (¹) for milestones in my life. Specifically tailored to my recovery for which (in order to honor Desmond Tutu's quote in my signature "To pursue the path of healing we need to remember what we have endured. Restoring ones sense of self means restoring memory, recognizing what happened. Without memory there is no healing") it's probably 'wise' to mark the dates I need to remember the abuse AND dates on which I "remembered and healed" them.
Good grief, that sounds horribly pretentious.
But I'm going to try anyway. Let's see how it'll work out.

The divorce of my parents has stretched out over a period of 2 1/2 year. And it's best described as "keeping everybody in the dark", i.e. Chaos Manufacture. Which of course involved feeding us snippets of information. Otherwise it wouldn't be Chaos Manufacture!
Like a true HPD, i'd say. (Which I suspect my TherapistMom of being.)
My diaries have gaps in them.

Prelimenary reconstruction (a bit more vague than my diary entries, to protect my privacy):
Late Winter 2001: 'Mom' "needs to meet me", I say OK, she arrives in a car that is not theirs, I think: "Oh dear, she's going to announce her divorce." I'm right. No specific record of this in my diary. But a strong memory. (Early Winter I have a mention of them celebrating their wedding anniversary, so it must have been after that.  ) edited to add: I recall my mother telling me a story (when I was in puberty) about a women divorcing her husband right after their 25th anniversary: "That was a great party, I enjoyed it, but now it's time to leave you". I even thought that was funny, to the disgust of my friends. In hindsight: they were right to be disgusted. Now, when I reconstruct this I see my mother has done the exact same thing. 15-20 year after she told me that story.
Spring 2001: Mention in my diary of a fight of me and dad concerning my birthday and his visit. Not very specific on what the fight is about, but I have a clear memory of a fight I had with him about attending a birthday of me by him and 'mom', which I didn't want because "Yes dad, you are still my parents, but you're not a couple anymore, so no, I don't want the two of you here together."
Dad never showed up. Nor did 'mom'. No presents for me that year.
Early summer 2001: references to being troubled for a while now by "mom having left dad".
Late 2001: References (not clear at all) to a memory I have: 'Mom' and 'dad' had arranged for a meeting with their kids because "Undoubtedly you have questions, so you can ask them there." Me and 'sis' went (expat bro not  ), but didn't receive any (significant) answer under the guise of "that's something between your mother/father and me."    After this I had my first year of (total, yet temporary) NC with 'mom'. (I might elaborate on that later, if I have not already mentioned this in earlier posts here.)
Autumn 2002: A letter from 'dad' that he has "bad news": they will divorce. (When 'mom' came over the first time, my heart sang with joy, to be honest.    Didn't say that. Wise. I'm not a *.)
Spring 2003 edited to add: this is the year I told dad I didn't want him and 'mom' visiting me together on my birthday. 'Dad' came a week later, 'mom' the week after that.
Summer 2003 (!): A letter from 'dad' that the divorce has become official.
Interesting 'fun' fact: 'mom' divorced 'dad'. How come I have these letters from 'dad' stapled in my diaries, and non from 'mom'? I cannot think of another reason that "*cough* Gallant *cough* (enabler) dad has taken it upon him to bring the "bad news" on behalf of both of them (as stated in these letters) and woe-is-me -'mom' skillfully 'dotched the bullet'. For the divorce SHE wanted. (never mind if she was right or not to do so: she has left it to 'dad' to clean up the mess'/ do the 'damage control'.)
I will probably check some time later to see if I have any mail or letters from 'mom' from this period. Letters probably not (or I would have stapled them too I suppose), e-mails: possibly. Though we are talking 2001-2003 here. Antiquity in terms of e-correspondence.)

Reading dad's letters have been quite a renewed 'shock'.
I didn't delve to much in it yet: I just wanted to get the dates.

(¹): In Holland it's customary to have an "anniversary calendar" on the toilet. With all the birthdays and other anniversaries of your social circle written on them. I guess since it's the only place you will visit daily, so one can't miss an anniversary.

[Dutch Uncle]

Today I realized I have become⁽¹⁾ like the kids my TherapistMom used to bring over from her work. These were runaways from abusive homes. She started working as a counselor (or some such) at an agency where runaways would be provided with shelter and 'mom' was involved in finding a foster-family for these kids. (If reconciliation was not possible, not warranted and/or during a period where reconciliation/mediation was taking place. I guess What? probably. Given TherapistMom's unhealthy appetite for Drama, she probably took the job so she could meddle in the family-poo that caused these kids to run away. I feel almost sick typing that, it's a horrible accusation to make, but unfortunately I have to face the possibility it's just that why she 'loved' her job.  )
If she couldn't find one, she would sometimes take these kids in until a more permanent solution was found for them.
Talking about not separating your work from your private life, a trait she would continue by becoming the TherapistMom for all her kids and a TherapistSpouse for my dad. Highly unethical and unprofessional behavior on her part.
The plot thickens...

I feel a sense of relief realizing this. Mixed with a sense of shame (I shouldn't, I know, but denying this feeling isn't helping either) and a sense of revenge as well: Part of me wants to shout this in her face: "HELLO THERE! I'm leaving this family, I'm running away because I have a terrible abusive Mother, an abusive Sister, a Brother that beats me up and a Dad who is a Brute. I'm outta here! In yer face, Ms. Therapist. You suck! You all suck!  "

I'm going to recognize all these three emotions until only relief is left of them.

⁽¹⁾ "become" sounds too passive here, yet it still somehow fits. Since I'm a victim here, so I should not take a too active stance in all this. I may be an agent in "running away", but I should pretty clearly keep in mind that I'm not an agent in the why I'm running away.

[Dutch Uncle]

A brighter story, for once.

Memories to a pivotal moment in my life, that does get an extra 'charge/load/significance' in light of all I'm working through nowadays.

I was a child up to 2^nd grade in secondary school. During 3^rd grade I hit puberty. My two (and virtually only) mates during the first two grades did not pass to third, which made this year a time of great changes. I got acquainted with another guy, and smoked my first joint with him. I started to acquire my own musical taste (Zappa) to which he had introduced me. We made plans to go on holidays together.
The son of a colleague of my father (they car-pooled), who I knew just as kids of befriended parents do, got wind of our plans and said: "I will be going with 5 others on holidays. Our parents will bring us and pick us up again after two (three?) weeks. Join us if you will." That sounded great and we planned to go with them.
Some time later my acquaintance bailed, and I stuck to the group of six other 'pimple faced' guys.
First holidays without parents! Yay!

I barely knew these guys, basically we had met only a few weeks before, perhaps two months at most.
It was fun, exciting, we acted crazy as 15/16 year old boys do, pushed all sort of boundaries, especially authority, and managed to stay just on the good side of the fence. (Well, probably we thought we were oh-so-naughty but were in fact pretty meek. But who cares: it's one owns perspective that counts, right? We went places where "no man has ever went before", so we had a ball to say the least.)

The most amazing thing for me however was that this was a group of friends who had one amazing trait that was completely alien to me and took me some time and effort to get used to: In a discussion they would grant each other a 'point' (and many kids that age think they have the whole world sorted out and the solution to any problem around: if only the world would listen and see things our way... So there was plenty to discuss ) . "Good point." "You're right." "Didn't know that, interesting." "True."
I was baffled. I could make a point, and it could be granted. Never had had that in my life before. I was so not used to a discussion actually moving forward, or getting concluded even.
This was weird.
But in this few weeks I learned to accept and adopt this great new tool. And I started to grant points to others too. I don't think I was particular 'sticky' to begin with: in the FOO I always was made to lose, never could stand up to the intellectual superiority, discussion skills and verbal prowess of my elder siblings and parents, so I never adopted the 'never giving in'-style. I had grown accustomed to 'folding my cards' quickly or simply keep my mouth shut.
Now, for the first time in my life, I was part of a 'peer-group' where my opinion actually mattered and was valued, validated. "Wow, these guys are great" I thought, "what a bunch of great friends they are to each other. I want to stick around these guys."
And so I did. Apart from one guy I have lost contact with them in the years in between. Slowly, softly. We all went studying, moved to different cities, we got new and different 'peer-groups' there. Girlfriends, wives, some started families... Our lives took different paths.

But this has been a pivotal holiday.
I remembered this event today, as I become increasingly aware that this FOO-"conflict based behavior" that still is so prominent has never mellowed down. I've shared a lot already on the behavior of the 'cluster B' DramaQueens and the equally conflict prone anti-social brother who hates his wife so much that I (half-)jokingly told a friend (who asked about the how and why): "He will berate her for even breathing." Which he would if he could.
But I was especially reminded of this 'paradigm-shift' I experienced at the age of 15 by memories of uAsperger's dad, to whom I have said a few times over the course of the last years: "Say "Yes"! We agree! Say "Yes" for crying out loud! I just said what you say now, we're on the same side on this. Stop arguing (over nothing)! " He'll probably will never get to a point where he can say, assertively, "Yes". Which is sad, for and towards me at least.

But the upside of these realizations is that I know what I have chosen when I was 15, and that I know, because I felt and feel it, that arguing for the arguing itself is pointless, a bore, detrimental to relationships and harmfully abusive to health and life.

I can return to the 15 year old. I so often have returned to the 15 year old in my life, with considerable successes.
I know how to agree, I even know how to agree to disagree. Sure, I will also fight for what's 'right', I don't have to be a doormat.
My 15 year old Inner Child can be my ally again, and together we know how to make life agreeable.

Cheers, and thanks for reading.

[Dutch Uncle]

A quote I found in an online article (http://shrink4men.com/2016/02/15/what-a-narcissist-or-borderline-means-by-unconditional-love/) that too me sums up my FOO, and that will probably keep me on track of avoiding these nasty behaviors of them (and to know in general when my boundaries are violated in ways that demand the implementation of firm consequences):

"Once is happenstance; twice is coincidence; the third time it's enemy action."

[Dutch Uncle]

This video/talk by the author of "Stop walking on Eggshells", Randi Kreger, is Golden:

Stop Walking on Eggshells: Secrets of Limit Setting - Randi Kreger

It does tell the story of what I have been going trough for the last four years... It's a process. 

[Dutch Uncle]

Today I saw a video of a lecture by Bessel van der Kolk titled The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma.

Very interesting, and in way very calming: there is a lot of interesting research presented, and in it it is explained how trauma affects cognitive functions as well as the loss of "Self" (which for simplicity sake I would call "dissociation", though that may be a totally wrong assumption/connection I'm making).

For me personally it explains, to my relief, why after my DramaSis (re)traumatized me at a point in my life where an academic pursuit was essential for me to stay in the field I was working in failed miserably: My cognitive functions simply went 'offline'. And so did my sense of "Self". The latter was challenged by DramaSis (this was the re-traumatization) to the point of almost destroying it, and I could cope with 'academia' as long as it was 'class'-based (basically following the course and it's rules) I was fine, but as soon as writing papers and the thesis came in view (and input of my "Self" was essential) I crumbled.

This lecture has been, already, an asset in self-forgiveness of 'failing' there and then: How could I succeed in 'academia' when persistent Trauma was inflicted on me by DramaSis and by extension the whole enabling FOO? (I'm not sure if 'sis' is the GC, she has had her share of abuse as well, but for sure I never got any recognition/validation for the awful way she treated me during the last years, and thus during my academic pursuit.)

PS: I posted this originally in "Books", as this video might help some others too, but decided to post it here as well for the benefit of my own reflection on how it all affected me the past years.