I’m mad as hell

I’m not feeling sorry for myself, or like a victim. I’m not just a survivor of too many forms of abuse. I’m angry, mad as hell because for all my life I’ve seen, experienced too much abuse, and injustice.
It started with my parents, pupils and even some teachers in the school. The later with toxic people in the environment, and sadly most girls/women I crossed paths with. With the good ones we kept letting each other go and knew if we were meant to be, it would have happened at any time in life. Then it’s also about the fact that so many children are suffering unimaginably, whether it’s due to war, hunger, trafficking, or domestic abuse.

Does it make me mad because of what happened to all of us kids like that?
Or because of what happened to me in the past decade as a man, a father who didn’t know anymore what to do.

Am I mad at people who do these things?
Yes, but not as much as I’m actually mad at people who live next door, who stand by and do nothing.
Far worse, the people who claim to help but end up actually making it worse in the end – police, social services, child protective services, public clerks etc.: everything you say and do will be used against you.
Do you have a good lawyer?
Tough luck, whatever happens to you is just another damn day in the office for those people. You’re just a number to them.

As a kid and a teenager I coincidentally ended up being a publicly known figure in the media due to my story. It was focused on the issues with child abuse, bullying at schools, neglect and systematic lack of oversight into the underage homelessness, and mental health related issues. Mistreatment by police and government officials etc.
In around three different national TV shows, one being live, it was said I was a one of a kind anomaly because people’s calls to get in touch with me were insane after the first show which was the live one. Indeed, my life went from being a sweaty, stinky squatting teenage nobody, to suddenly sitting next to top level experts in sociology and social work, psychology, ministers etc.
Then UNICEF approached me to be part of some of their projects, and there was even an official visit with the national president Milan Kucan at the time.
More than a few radio broadcast appearances. Lastly even a whole documentary where I was a cohost with a known journalist who was expert on social issues, through my story we also travelled around the country for a week interviewing other teens in youth, and other help centres lead by government or NGO’s.
I coincidentally became the lead advocate for children’s rights, homeless youth (and also adults). The whole idea to allow homeless people ages 16 and above to register at the municipality address for up to 6 months to be able to go through other formal processes.

I was actually living under extreme conditions for a while during being a student of a high school and living alone, without any financial or other type of support. The reason for that was the fact that since my whole family was evicted and relocated to temporary safe house, I was technically homeless. No permanent address, I moved away from the rental place where my mum and two sisters remained. It was a one bedroom flat. Impossible for a 17 year old teen, and sisters about to go into their teens living together with a mother who would definitely need years of help. If helping her was even possible anymore.
I was unable to get my own ID card, health care insurance which is basically free for everyone, sign any formal stuff or receive any wages since I couldn’t open my bank account once I turned 18. Only later we overcame this together with the high school psychologist who signed me up at her own address under the condition that I keep seeing her once a week after classes. Needless to say, she wasn’t actually much of any other help, rather contrary. She became the most unpleasant character completely by herself later in that documentary. In the private premiere played to those top level experts, and her included, everyone gasped at her level of gaslighting and attempting to control me and the narrative. With everyone in the same room, her head had no place but tried to find a pile of sand to hide into.

You see, the issue is that I don’t actually have any problem with other people or myself, as long as their actions do not negatively interfere or impact my life. My problem is only the fact that due to complex trauma most of the time my emotions come very delayed when people are disturbing with their toxic actions. Take situations where I was attacked by people and had to fight for my life. At that moment I don’t think, I don’t even think I am the one doing anything. I just go with instinct only taking care to not get anyone hurt. I’m actually afraid to go full 100% on anything alive.
I know what I can do to a boxing bag.
I know that I can hurt people in self defence.
Sadly, as much as I hate fighting as a whole, life on the streets doesn’t leave you a choice or a way out of that situation.

I don’t look tough, I’m rather skinny. However, I’m very often surprising myself and definitely others with my won strength, endurance and ability to really push myself far over the limits. My resilience, and adversity quotient are definitely out of charts. At the bottom there’s a link to a really good set of psychological tests. I did more than few. When it comes to empathy, adversity, resilience: these are scores at 99% or higher, practically almost impossible. For me, that’s a lot like a gift and a curse at the same time. I’m weak for people who are wounded and in need. But I’m also too tough on myself and any bully that crosses me and happens to put their hands on me. Women, I push away, and don’t hit. One mistake, one bad reaction and a slap in life was a good enough lesson for me.

When a woman attacks you, if she is not able to kill you, don’t even protect yourself. Get out any way you can immediately that moment. Hopefully you had your finger also on that record button when she blasts off.
Get out, call the police, say nothing just show them evidence and marks.
Then let them and her do the talking, in some cases you might even be lucky that they break through her masks and role playing, and actually take her (I wish that was my case but youtube has many to inspire you, teach you). In worst case, that moment you are safe. Pack the necessary stuff and important things, if you can go anywhere, just go. Otherwise, either a lawyer or start playing very smart. Never let anyone know what your plan is. Plan and execute in silence: hidden cameras 24/7, or any other way to produce evidence. Keep documenting, and the moment you have a backup to get out and start the big case, go with it! Don’t hesitate.
My hesitation, my doubts, self shaming and thinking I don’t have anywhere to go was what made me wait for much too long. That made me give hope to therapists, and other people in the system to be able to see through that woman. To be able to hear and see me, see whatever evidence I have left to support my own self. It’s not about who is right or wrong here. It’s about the fact that what they are doing is wrong.

What’s wrong is allowing people to make false accusations, and allegations. Use that in the official documentation. In my case it’s not just about the kids, and the relationship. When they asked me to speak about my past, when I did, they left out all the important and positive parts. What was left and used was not even my own life anymore. Leaving out years of work, living in two foreign countries.
Talking about my “high level” influence in my own country, completely forgetting to mention what that was actually all about. How relevant was that experience to my parenthood, as well as witnessing pretty much intentional misuse and abuse of the public services, and justice system itself by my ex partner and her own mother.

The only thing that I think is helping, and saving me this time is the actual prosecutions side of my other case where I was trying to protect myself with an air pistol as the scare tactic (it’s completely harmless – loaded with CO2 and 4x 2g heavy plastic rubber balls size of a paintball). It was the best choice I had given that pepper spray is illegal, getting to close and physical was definitely not on my list after the experience of a real life or death fight. Not anymore. I definitely didn’t want to be killed, or have to badly hurt anyone with my own hands even if they deserved it.
Around 20 years ago, I was volunteering for security in a legalised formal squat with a subculture for all tastes. Which also comes with all shapes of people at the electronic music events. Punk and metal stuff was always safe from thieves, or other unwanted guests. On other more general public events however, we did have to watch out for pickpockets, desperate men and drunk guys harassing women, and anyone trying to cause trouble.
We always had a very nonviolent approach, often other guests who were courageous to assist in numbers or my friends, also skilled in martial arts, we’d just circle around the problematic person and escort them out. My good facial memories were used at the the doors like a check point for them in the future.
The ones that promised to behave, and didn’t steal anything, they could get a second chance in a while. Often it was just a few too many drinks, we could forgive that once to twice.

One day was different though, a very well known local hard drugs dealer, addict himself. tall, and rather strong guy. We all knew him at least by face, and knew that he is generally a walking bunch of red flags. Known to beat his dog, sell to young kids etc. Just a real piece of work, proper human garbage. Due to his size, his general attitude was also displaying that he is dangerous, tough guy act.
He sat down, and within minutes started nodding. He was clearly just high on horse (heroin). That clearly didn’t sit well with guests, and organisers of the event. I don’t even have to include myself, and the team in the venue.
After one of the colleagues asked me to try and politely get rid of him, I got up and went to speak with him. I said that we don’t allow sleeping in our venue but he is definitely still welcome to stay as long as he pleases. I walk back to my seat, he lights up a cigarette (smoking indoors was still permitted at that time), smokes for a bit.
Then he gets up, grabs his backpack and starts walking towards me.

I prepare, I see what’s going to happen.

Bang! He slams his backpack on the high bar table in front of the seating area (the seating is elevated – for the sound techs on live gigs). I’m at eye level seating with him standing opposite to me, only the bar table between us. He pulls a hand out of his backpack, holding a long kitchen knife – around 25cm and tries to stab me in my leg.
Like I said, I saw it all coming exactly as it happened – I have that weird sense or even sometimes actual flashes of the future. Like avoiding a car cutting you off on the highway. This time I literally saw him in my minds eye doing what he actually did, at the same moment he threw his cigarette half smoked on the ground and stomped it while still seating in his seat, about 8m away from me.
My subconscious locked onto his own one, and saw the moment he allowed that intrusive thought to take control over him.
It wasn’t just my fast reflexes, I was waiting exactly for the moment when knife becomes visible, stood up, grabbed his long pony tail, his wrist of his right hand with the knife.
I twisted his hair, pushed down on his wrist on the bar table. Now higher than he was, I had him. I asked him to release the knife, he refused. Three times, he still tried to get out of my grip. Then I pulled my whole body weight leaning on his wrist, let the hair go, jumped up with my right hand.
I landed three hardest punches I could in my life. When the rest of the team saw that, I noticed the shock on their faces – no one has ever seen me really fight with anyone like that. True, it never happened until that moment. They even jumped to stop me but the moment I yelled that he is still holding his a knife, they got the point, I wasn’t trying to beat him up – this was actual self defence and protecting them.
Still holding his arm, I jumped over the table and pulled him on the ground with a move often used by the cops – I trained with traditional jiujitsu and kickboxing along the actual cops for a few years between ages of 13 and 17. I followed with spraying out a 40ml pepper spray in his face, grabbing his boxer shorts, his hair for a massive double wedgie and carried his heavy ass outside. There I slammed him on his knees, and delivered a few massive slaps because of the adrenaline kicking in hard.
I told him that he is never to appear anywhere near that whole area again, if he did I promised him I would definitely do to him what he does to his dog, making sure that it does leave many bones broken.

Inside, I emptied all the drugs in his bag into the toilet, disarmed him from any knifes or other dangerous object – a hammer, screwdriver and a pocket knife. Knowing he will have to return for his bag, I left his personal stuff like ID and wallet inside.
He did come back, with his face swollen to half the size of his head. I gave him the bag, told him where the rest of the stuff went. He left, and swore to never come back or try to sue me (he has sued a few people who knocked him out when he was looking for trouble). I was pleased with that.
Only about and hour later I actually felt bad, I felt bad because outside when I unloaded slaps on him. I was really brutal, and I felt it was too much.
Regardless of what kind of piece of shit he was, it’s still a human being.
Once defeated, humiliated, and clearly realised that he just got owned by a dude only half his size, he definitely had the biggest life changing lesson. People did tell me that they kept seeing him around time later, with a massive black bruise on his face. There was clearly something broken there. Not really intended but guy was large, known to be strong as a beast, very unstable and unpredictable. Clearly. 🙂
However, they all rather noticed that his whole posture and demeanour completely changed. That tough guy was all gone. As far as I heard, he actually went into a rehab a few months later.
Kind of similar what happened in January this year when I was also caught up in another crazy scenario I couldn’t really predict myself that way this time.
I was seeking for a room, happened to find one to rent. The reality was, the guy who lived there with his equally insane girlfriend was on coke and heavy drinking every day. Apparently his dog died two months prior, and he has a seriously messy and criminal past. With my way too low budget for Dutch rental market, desperate to get off the streets, it was the only chance I even got so far. To cut it short, that nutcase also started a fight, ended on the ground as well.
Cops did take me, later released me and gave me a lift to the hostel to show their appreciation for not either beating them up, or filing any charges against them for assaulting me when they came for me based on the false story that guy actually sold them himself.
He accused me of attacking him with a hammer. First of all, he had steel toe boots that he kicked me in my face with to begin with. I was a bit bloody but definitely okay, tough luck buddy, this guy has been through a lot and he won’t go down again by hesitating this time unlike with the idiot Polish junkie on the boat a year earlier.
Two days later, this guy texted me when he was transported from detention to a crisis center under the court order. It was the few minutes he could have the phone. I still have those screenshots.
First he texted me why I tried to kill him. I was laughing my ass off. I replied that he better start jogging his memory because I could press charges against him otherwise.
After a few minutes he replied saying that I was right, and he really messed up big time on this one. I agreed.
I did ask him about his girlfriend, apparently she was also arrested and ordered to get treatment, or jail time. She chose wisely.
He then told me that three of his ribs were broken, that it hurts. I actually told him that it doesn’t hurt enough, and that I hope he remembers that the same second he was unable to fight, and yielded verbally, I let him go and made sure he felt safe. He admitted.
He also finally recalled that we actually spoke about what kind of help would be good for him, his stress and grief over the dog. We were actually talking really well whole afternoon, something happened later between him and surely his rather insane woman – I’m very certain she was the one with the paranoid mindset to begin with. Typical delirious people that are heavy users of cocaine.

Now looking at my own intrusive thoughts, such as wishing to see the people who abused and hurt me to suffer about what they did. However, the moment I drift into that kind of feeling I do see myself and definitely don’t like that. I’m not denying my own dark side here, the justice warrior and a beast mode when it’s really needed. However, me and my shadow have an agreement, even in the really threatening situations, we don’t hurt people because we were hurt. Nope, strictly and only self defence, and even that with controlled force. Precise, and self defence tactics.
Real aggression comes with any sort of weapons, or threatening objects with an actual intent to harm or kill. When it comes to my own ex being such level of a threat, women can be super furious. I still didn’t even think of ever using any such amount of force, no matter how much I was in danger and triggered. In that situation, I was totally aware of my own strength, and real easy ability to use the kind of techniques that do not harm but immobilise the attacker. It might leave a mark on skin, or hurt a little due to a twist on the joint. However, that’s really minor level of pain and no injury at all. It goes away within minutes.
Still, that was enough to use it against me as the wife beater but never look at the wife beating the man herself.

That being said, as a kid I was mad at adults for abandoning other kids and not protecting them. All kids need our help and protection if they don’t have it themselves.
Now I’m still mad about the same reasons but add to that being a father who was abused while trying to keep himself, and everyone else safe. A father who sought help, and got injustice instead. I’m mad because I’m an actual good human being. I genuinely fell for the people even if they deserve to walk in hell, or even stay there. It might be the only thing to heal them. I din’t need fire to heal, my own fire woke up the kind of beast mode level where light has turned into a lightning storm.
The darkness I kept silent, and have never shown it to anyone. I have embraced it.
Before the abuse from my own partner and then further pressure from the people in the government involved in this case with refusing to just simply copy paste my own written statements instead of making their own for me, with too many mistakes than cannot be accepted due to simple formal reasons, not my hurt ego. It’s not about my feelings. This is about what’s really going on, one thing is injustice over a good human being and a man who works hard, is honest, and cooperates with people because it’s a first response, not a tactic. It’s about actually protecting the kids from the abuser. It’s about the fact that we need to stop blaming victims, and we have to prevent harm done to anyone like this.
Even the actual abusers deserve compassion, but they have to be faced with consequences of their actions like all rest of us. Allowing this to happen means that all these services claiming to protect children have inevitably proven to be doing the opposite. In many cases, not just mine.
While mothers like that will do anything to appear super humans, extremely charming and nice people on the surface. No one can really know until you see their real face. Until you realise how many layers of lies, webs and excuses they will keep finding to justify themselves, their behaviour and their actions.
I’m sorry, your painful past is not an excuse to lie, beat, scream, gaslight and devalue anyone around you. Your problems were always your own to solve but as a team, we were meant to also give that safe space to each other. While I understood that sometimes you just have to get it out of the system, when that becomes a regular reaction to being called out, or when a person is setting boundaries, it’s violent abuse. Psychological abuse doesn’t leave scars one can see but it will leave wounds often so deep that some people do not have the strength to recover anymore.

Now imagine being pushed so far as I was, being just alone for the large part. Yes, people care, want to see me live and be happy. To live my dreams again, a full life. To love and be loved. These people all live scattered around the world, busy lives, their own families to tend to. Generally care a lot but can’t help much at all. I’m very happy for every little help I receive but I’m definitely feeling being alone when it comes to urgently and much needed vacations. Recovery of my mind and body.
A financial boost to get back on my own feet, start my own business, serve people. Provide my technical and other expertise (today I saved someone’s boat engine from damage). At the end of the day, it is only a matter of when a new door finally opens up for me and I get out of this limbo nightmare.
I’m not lazy, I’m not a pussy, and definitely not insane.

Sadly, a lot of people who know me best, including my parole officer whom I trust with all my heart, they all agree that the world is insane. I’m just somehow one of those people who ends up exactly on that end of it where there’s really most cruelty, yet I’m among the first ones to break the cycle, speak out. This served as an inspiration in the past. I honestly wish it keeps going this way with or without me.

People, wake the fuck up, if something is wrong don’t turn away thinking you don’t have any power. Maybe just pointing a finger at it will trigger someone else to jump and help protect the victims. If we ignore the ugly truth, it won’t go away, it becomes more powerful until it is far too later to get rid of the cancer.
Just like some times we grow tissue and cells that our body doesn’t need, sometimes there are people that the community doesn’t need. I’m not calling to hurt anyone, or eliminate them. However, certain people need assistance and supervision due to their inability to self regulate, self reflect and display lack of empathy which is a clear sign of something a lot deeper and serious.

If I actually felt like some serial killer, or a threat to myself and others. Given what I’m really like, I don’t think I’d have a problem talking about this there. I find self observation like this, and sharing my story rather very self cleansing. It actually does feel like a relief in some way.
I also really hope that it will somehow touch enough of people to self reflect on themselves, and realise how much damage they’re doing by enabling abusers, cheaters, liars, and shitty people. We all have them around us. Every 6th person is highly likely a narcissist. Covert ones are the ones with a mild spectrum, overt narcissist are the ones who then display many machiavellienism traits, anti social disorder traits. You can test your own dark triad by accessing it at the link below.

My test results are very strange anyway, as mentioned before, super high score on empath. But my dark triad, narcissism is human average, we all are a bit selfish by nature. Machiavelli traits, average. Psychopathy score, just slightly above the average. That one actually shocked me a little. However, when I think what I could have turned out like when I check the people with the similar backgrounds, and so much suffering and injustice as in my life. It’s rather shocking that I’m not in any way broken, other than burnt out physically and emotionally, exhausted of having to continuously try to defend myself with the system all alone. Tired of having to keep proving myself yet still being completely ignored, not just misunderstood.
I’m definitely out of patience, and energy to stay motivated. I’m done fixing what someone else created but I’m also done being treated like a lunatic.

I wish I had just enough money to take a vacation in a completely new place where I don’t know anyone or possibly also not have to get to know anyone unless I choose to.
I wish I could eat fruits every morning, go yo the gym, have a sauna or massage later. I wish I could just use some time to find the joy in life again. Find out what makes me feel the joy, and happiness.
To rediscover my true self, not the one living with the trauma and hidden or silenced by the clowns who lack the courage or ability to the right thing. To have my name, and my life restored so that I can breathe, be free, and never again tortured by any lies or anyone in my own intimate life.
I just want some jazz, peace, a nice cocktail. Good company, deep conversations. Watching the stars at night, hug the kids. kiss them goodnight. Wake up next morning and plan the next stop on the journey, and have an argument with birds in the morning.

I’m mad alright, because people don’t at least leave me alone if they can’t get their fucking facts straight, be good and kind to one another. I’m mad because the world is too scared of these bullies, liars, child traffickers, thieves, and scammers. They’re all alike – they don’t feel anything for others yet they learn from the rest of us how to mirror and mimic their generosity, their kindness, and being nice to ensure they keep control of how others see them and their fake public persona.

I’m mad because those rare of us who threw our masks away long ago are the ones who are in danger from the society being so vile, so afraid of the truth.

What others do is on them but how you react is on you. I prefer anger and defence in action over never doing anything to protect yourself and others.
Being honest about what you feel, and choose between the right or wrong without being forced or told by books or laws, that’s admirable.

I’m mad as hell. But I’m not going to set anything on fire myself. I just stopped putting out the fires others started. If it catches on you, I hope you’ve read to this end and know what to do.

Test yourself here