TRIGGER Images from flash backs RItual Abuse

TRIGGER Images from flash backs RItual Abuse

TRIGGER WARNING!!  The link at  he bottom of this page is directly  leading to images of artwork, derived from personal  flash -backs and fragments of  memories about sadistic / ritual abuse.  Do not look at these pictures when you suffer from psycho-trauma, or when you have no intention to see this transformed  artwork,which remain  shocking images.

Introduction: why publish this  type of ‘art?’

In 1993,   I came in a sudden shock , while I was busy making nice paintings and portraits.  During this shock and  in long-  term reaction on this during the next  years ,   I painted hundreds of paintings in all kinds of techniques,  about flash -backs and fragments of memories that overwhelmed m and came back into me. The first years I had to live with this till finally I asked for help and got some therapy which was not helping me much with this.

The question for me was, whether to keep this to myself or not. Flash backs are  very personal, are taken from my life and repeatedly show fragments of a totally different  world that dissociated from my daily life.  But what life did I get?   Did I ever had something to decide in this life?  What was my life based upon? My life partially was based upon what is visible in these flashbacks,  I had  and have to live with this , even the people around me  do not know this.

These flashbacks represent the problems I had in childhood, when I had these flash backs disturbing my daily life  when I walked to school or anywhere in my life, in the classroom, in church, in the streets, most of all before I  was going to sleep. .  It was very hard to live with this. It finally became dissociated when I was eleven ,  I wrote about  that at this blog  in the story about sadistic abuse and dissociation  entitled  “Even the light was dark”

Publishing: awareness

In case of sadistic abuse, it is not understood what impact this has in your life. You can tell stories, try to explain, write about what it is like , but often artwork, images  will tell you more than thousand words.  The  only  purpose to spread these images is,  to show people things happen that are horrible and are  difficult to  explain and give a  place in your life..So I hope such images would show more directly what it is about, such things, I keep repeatedly in  my head, not because I am crazy, but because once, this was a real part of my life.

The images are stored  behind the following link.

selection of images paintings and drawings flashbacks  RA ( 1993-2015)

Fepijn Doorn

TRIGGER (RA) The role of language in sadistic/ ritual abuse

TRIGGER (RA) The role of language in sadistic/ ritual abuse

TRIGGER This article contains information that might be triggering

Note: this  is an article on language, written from my native language, Dutch. This might of course give problems with  the interpretation of words. In all cases, the original ‘Dutch’ words  heard in my  head  are used and if possible, it is  further explained to the English language. 

Sadistic abuse or  ritual abuse, no matter how it is called,  is something that goes very deep and what holds you captive. Caught in a very complicated situation, influencing   many parts of your life, you do not know where this came from , or who brought it into your  mind…So what ever happened is so often returning, at first  you think you have probably  invented this all by yourself, so was thought by others in childhood. .  At the age of four I called out strange words and strange things,  what at school  was dealt with   ‘fantasy’. The  teacher at school,  that  wrote  this ‘ it is all fantasy’ in my  school report  did not know at the same time  you thought and felt  your body  was meant for sex and you lived  in very different worlds. But yes it was in 1966, so what do you expect..

Language and animal
A part of me is not human at all. Absolutely not. It feels like it is an  animal. Not a strong animal, but an animal that is in the power of others, used and abused.  That animal has its two sides, or you might call that split into two separate parts. There is one  part that has no language  at all and the other part has some language. So  the language of the latter part  is not at all ordinary. That language comes back into me  from two sides . From that animal itself in strange words, but also from everyday  language  back to that animal part  in which ordinary, daily  words or parts of words are suddenly very different in meaning,  Associations  are made but  you do not always know how.   Of course there are words that everyone is afraid of, –  I guess- I do not know that for sure.  Maybe you can compare that people previously did not dare pronounce the word ‘cancer’, afraid to get it, when naming the word.  I share something very personal with what is in me as a strange thing in language ,  what is always there not being a part of yourself, but also a part of me. . That is the contradiction in  a dissociative disorder.

The remarkable thing is that those strange words have not lost anything of their impact and meaning,/ evoked  feeling,   so it has never been really reconsidered or changed . Compare this with the following case.  As a  very small child you learn about a sweet little hedgehog. You learn to love it and handle these animals with care.  As an adult the opinion for this animal has changed drastically, how many of these animals we find dead  on the side of the road and  no car driver  really cares  about it or would  remember what he/ she  ever was taught  about such a sweet animal.


That words from animal
Animal has no language, only experience and feeling. Still, there are words that sound extremely hard and sadistic  in your head, there is no escape. Here are foreign words that appear in your head and have a meaning, converted from feelings that you know it belongs to. So this a bound in  “language – direct feeling”.

IERAM  = highest  (Engliish  he ram)
UNAM i= worship (Engliish : your name)
ANTAS = in  sand / deep (-)
Harim ANA =   it comes (-)
SAMGAM  =  together / strong together (English : toghether, coming)
GAMBA  =   terrible (-)
Hunga = hunger and  to hang (English Hunger)
SAKATAN  =  say twice, say it more  (-)
IERPS  = animal (-)
INDRIE = there in, IN  [ English  = IN 3]
DE MOON  = moon (moon)

These words make you feel completely different and  in a way ‘work’ in you.  It is deforming what you see., sometimes in reverse.   How it sounds in your head  is important. There are also whispered words, they are different. They are there to  calm you.  You know what it is and  especially what feels from it, when it whispers.What you do.

Some words are little phrases.
UNAM ANTAS SAKATAN (your name  Antas Skatan, say it twice)
DE  MOON IN (in the moon)
DRIE CAT IN ( three cat in 3)
DRIE IN SAK (three in a sack)
UNAM Harim ANA ( Your name Harim Ana)
There are probably other words that you do not even know now, but only come in special situations. .These words  are   in your head  just like an ordinary  toddler song like ‘ in the moonlight. ..”  Mind you, I hear the word ‘moonshine’ which moon has to me a completely  other meaning, so you  have associations  in language and this also what language is meant to do.  ….  These words sound just hard in your head., for example, if you feel threatened, even threatened by a dog or something else.

Words in everyday life

So that words in the previous paragraph were already from inside  in your  head,  there are also words that come from the outside in your head by using language ( I guess only with spoken language), all language used in daily life by yourself or others.

The worst word associated for me with “animal language” is perhaps the word IN. Such ordinary word. IN is very bad. Much more serious than you might think. It seems harmless, IN, but is a very powerful word with a lot of associations simultaneously, making me sometimes confused.  This is a word I am aware  how deeply  it affects me.

Other words   with special impact like ” In” are  , Sand, Lamp, Sandals, Moon,  Cat, Throat, etc.. etc. all having  a special meaning (extra load)  in your head, making unwilling associations you do not want.
It’s not easy to discover which words exactly  are linked to bad things, probably from  my childhood.  However, you always have this for example, when your filling  out a form. Words like :
Gender (in Dutch this means ‘ have been slaughtered”, Man, refers to Unam , your birthday  has numbers that are associated directly with certain feelings,  especially 23.

Above this article  there is a trigger warning. You can choose  for yourself not to read this story. That’s  a choice I don’t have  in everyday life. You should always guard against what comes in, probably most of it from  unconscious  elements in language , even without dissociative disorder, how disruptive this works in your life. You may ask, why are you so deep in  strange and cruel events  after  fifty years, maybe language plays an important  role keeping  you therein.  How others handle this,  I do not understand, I want to write in another article why only awareness of this  is not enough. The load, emotion and  all who or what you are is not  finished with only  awareness. You can at most determine it has been possible to see what is going on e.g. by language, like commands and events are   in a way linked to words or parts of words. . In my case I see a mechanism  -maybe not only in language as I’m also  very easy to trigger by visual perceptions in daily life that has caught me up,  I’m not knowing  how to  change that. Even if I would learn Chinese and would think  in this language  in my head, it would remain:  language has become a trigger that you use yourself and others in daily life  by how  sounds are associated  and therefore you probably  remain caught up in everything. This is  an idea I have, as generally  language is producing basic ideas, using this unconsciously and  affecting your (daily)  life very much, all of conversational therapy is based on that.

Fepijn Doorn

TRIGGER WARNING (RA):Indications about insertion of ideology through DID

TRIGGER WARNING (RA):Indications about insertion of ideology through DID

TRIGGER WARNING: the content of this article might trigger others that suffer from psychotrauma , take self care if you read this


To write something about implantation of some “(evil or bad?”) ideology  is for me moving on thin ice. After all, I don’t know anything on this subject  and I can only speak for ‘myself’ and what I think of this, rethinking this all after many decades.   In this more extended  blogpost  I will give examples of what I strongly believe is ‘injected’ in my brains  as some sort of ‘mind control’, maybe not with the intention to directly  ‘serve’ others (though it even feels that way too!),  but to deliberately destroy your life e.g. instead of killing you,  to be implanted to have become determined for what  others wanted me to have and become  in life. In a previous article   “Even the light was dark“, which is the main story of this blog, dissociation was a central issue during and after sadistic abuse. This is the real confusing part of DID, as parts could also have been brainwashed and  developed special deviant behavior  after cruel and  very sadistic events .  Anyway, this is an article where openness is important, but a lot remains  unclear too and is partially remains untold  [still secret] so this article is far from  complete…. The reason to share this in public is to show how very unusual things are entangled with things from daily life  which are deeply  implanted in your brains, with huge implications, which is ignored by many people -I was called  a lunatic and besides of the anger, violence and exclusion I’ve experienced , I had to pay a high price  for  ‘solutions’  or implanted ‘trained’ behavior from childhood (probably caused by the reaction what DID is) which  finally ruined my life. Yes, this might had protected me from what happened in childhood, it should have stopped when I finally got free, but it didn’t.

Reflection: breaking the silence 

The first 35 – 40 years of my life-  before I followed any psychotherapy- I lived like an automatic pilot, with strange behavior happening, which , only after reflection,  I thought ‘I have been ‘trained to do’, ( this I also told the psychotherapist) at least it was something that has always been there, since I am able to remember. I did not know by who or why ‘strange ideas’  would have been implemented, because somehow it  also  felt like  a part of  ‘yourself’. This is the crazy thing about the deep twilight zone between’ yourself’ and ‘others’ or  even ‘other parts in me that I do not recognize and  and memorized what was necessary to survive’,  in wich  you seem to be entwined or be melted ‘apart – together’ with those that did extremely scary and violent things to you.

I’ve never spoken about this before, besides in therapy. Still, before realizing I have DID, it already  felt  so very o strange,  even in  a sudden reflection when I was  five years old, when I thought I would be an animal, not human and my body was not right.  That moment still feels as if I woke up for a while, as if I suddenly changed and observed  from the outside how I had become something so strange (in my perception).   This word  ‘strange’ is suggesting the source of this/ my behavior would originate from elsewhere.  Now I know, everybody has strange things in their minds, so what exactly  is strange?  What behavior could be called really mad, crazy,” screwed”? The behavior I had was more than strange, was very unusual, as it was acting in some sort of inverted perception of things that you accept as being the truth. The truth? No, this is even  much, much more than the truth for me, it was an urgent verity, as it’s like your life depends on it, as if you have to obey, as if  ‘changed’ perceptions are necessary to survive, to escape from disaster. As if someone keeps you stranglehold.

Those crazy  hidden childhood problems

Everybody is the result of  character, experiences  and environment in childhood and all kinds of  things stipulated in predisposition, anyway ‘influenced’ by whatever incentives and signals are learned during childhood. This is how we learn to  see the world, to explore and to become prepared for adult life. My childhood was completely different, the only normal thing was, I did  very well at school and I was curious enough to be willing to explore the world. This is in complete contradiction with all that was happening in the background.

During childhood,  there have been so much hidden, strange  problems, that were continuously playing  such a big role somewhere  in the background. I clearly remember, that every day felt ‘ so wrong’, but it was impossible to explain why . It felt than like   ‘a black  cloud’ that was always there.  I remember when I was lying  in bed, during some sort of reflection, there was this constant fear.  This was a basic attitude, like there was something terrible going on.  There were big problems as if there were  big secrets to hide, as if a second world  controlled you and restrained your emotions  keeping you in some sort of evil ‘second world’ filled  and adjusted to  ‘sexuality’ at the age of three,  four and later.    This sexuality  was like a command,  experienced and linked in performances of  pain ( you relived to be  constantly beaten) , in a  strange atmosphere, always directly linked to intense violence, always forced to be  eating and drinking, linked at blood and being slaughtered, leading to normal orgasm at three years old….  I was terribly afraid to be  eaten by adults, I was very afraid for numbers and certain lines .  This,  because  numbers were not in my mind as numbers, but were  visualized  (number One –  pole. Two  and Five – hooks,  Three-  a bird,  Four a fork, Six  and Nine  – curls, etc.). Straight lines were somehow ‘forbidden’.  Later, as an adult during sessions of   psychotherapy,  it was found out I respond to short typical periods of the year like the first week of the year, late October, etc., periods  that suddenly changes my mood every year without noticing it.  After systematic violent events experienced in later childhood,  at about seven years old, things were real confusing,  you wanted to end your life, at the same time you felt being slaughtered while  you knew or thought  you also  stayed alive.  This, maybe because I did not quite understand  what death really would mean, it was a deep feeling – a real identification– with dissect bodies that  were used on the block or  were hanging after slaughter.  (Dead) animals played a large role in both emotional and sexual things as a child. From  inside, not knowing what was going on,  I was  forced by ‘ parts’  to have some sex with animals ,  to place sticks in my bottom till it became too  painful and  eat shit and worms – which is not normal behavior when you are somewhere  between eight or ten years old.. I had not  the slightest idea what I was doing or why.  This all happened in periods, not for experiencing something , but sort of ‘ruled’ in what I described as against the unspecified   ‘terrible’. This  reliving of events or commands  might than very well be caused by ongoing violence  from both  foster parents.and from cruel story’s from the bible, making me live in fear.  This also was leading to get ‘high’ ( I do not know a better word)  from this complete scenery of violence  and isolation  you could not escape from, probably resulting in the constant seeing of blood everywhere you came, slowly destabilizing your daily life till it was too heavy to carry . Meanwhile, what is incredible, showing the work of DID, I pretended nothing was going on, my school grades were very well… How this really happened I can’t explain.

Perceptions that look changed or reversed

The following examples will give an idea about  how there is a relation between objects/ feelings  integrated in daily life, holding you or parts of you back in situations and events from the past.  It’s about  changed and reversed perceptions that are somehow implemented, which perceptions are not really regarded by me as external feelings, maybe because wrong stimuli and normal feelings like hunger, attachment etc. are immediately  related to these phenomena.   In all of  this,  there’s  a tremendous threat , you can’t remember or describe  but is still working,  something that  keeps you unable  to see this different. You can realize these ideas are not true, or even weird, but still it is the truth.  The list I  have  written down  here is about strange ideas  coming from  early childhood repeating itself in your head by seeing things in daily life. These ‘ideas’ are easily accessible as if this is not fragmented,   so is  constantly  ‘integrated’  in conscience;  but what happens after – when the idea is performing behavior is – is  happening in different parts of me and I do not know what  behavior arises from this- I do only partially remember. Notice how these subjects from daily life  are linked to ideas( e.g seeing a baby triggers the effect to worship a baby, which I do).

Very strong ‘ideas’/. associations  defined  / undefined

  1. Worship a baby  – feeling and knowing
  2. You are never three.-  feeling and knowing
  3. Seven is the wrong number -knowing
  4. Shit is real food – feeling and knowing
  5. The curl is bringing food, food is the curl  -knowing
  6. The ‘very broken dirt’ is inside you, somewhere-  knowing
  7. You are less than animals – feeling
  8. You are an animal – feeling
  9. You should obey very little children – feeling
  10. A  baby is the Holy Star – knowing
  11. Hunger is  hanging – knowing and feeling
  12. Eat from cats – knowing
  13. Triangle is bad -knowing
  14. There is a  right to kill you – feeling
  15. The crow  is all – seeing  -knowing
  16. It is your place in the hedge – knowing
  17. A  bed is a block; you sleep on some-one, on a person – feeling
  18. Kiss the fish head before it is cut off – knowing
  19. Slaughtered animals do not really die  -feeling
  20. You don’t deserve to live – feeling
  21. You are guilty – knowing and feeling

Weaker ‘ideas’ / associations that are undefined

  1. Something  is wrong with flower boxes – feeling
  2. Begging for food is only allowed by making munching sound – knowing
  3. A terrible place in the hedge – knowing
  4. I’m an apple – knowing
  5. I have a moon – feeling
  6. Eight is the rope – knowing
  7. Adult is grave – feeling
  8. Round  box is slaughter – feeling

There’s an impact of this in daily life, not  consciously, but  ‘wrong objects’  and feelings have a relation which is inexplicable  from ‘normal’ life. The impact is much bigger as there is  a very intense thrive , a force behind it, keeping you inside some twisted bound as if something keeps you in stranglehold. In case of tension, being triggered or direct threat from adults or animals, this all returns immediately. Now practically you can avoid many things by ignoring it,  what I always try. – but in the background “it” even knows you are doing that. This ‘it’ is  looking at the same time, using information in the back ground to make your life hell, e.g. by the view of dead animals,very old people, dogs, shit,  birds, children, sand,  even when you are eating or drinking, all in a mix of ‘hidden ideas’  linked with who you ‘basically’ are – but again: is  what “I basically am” not me? this  is leading to very difficult questions, as  “Can you throw away yourself?”   So your position is in hostage , linked at objects that are visible in daily life.    I find out that realizing what is going on,  helps in defeating it, but this still absolutely means no freedom…this is a struggle between parts  ever since I was a small child. . I think, for real freedom, parts that are involved in this and that are absolutely unknown to me, must have a chance to speak, to act and show what exactly is going on. Something like that should ever happen in (safe) therapy.

Here,  I  described  symptoms of  what I believe is from implantation of  some ‘evil’ ideology.   I can’t explain exactly how this controls my  entire life, but in the past I ended up with parts of  dead birds , worms, etc. in my bed  and I have been eating so much dirt , causing many health- problems  – being ill for every two or three days before I took  a most severe diet.  I was ‘ offering’ this body again to ‘witches’ and was reliving some sacred events of groups in my mind, e.g. by locking myself in the shower -room, lying down the whole night on the ice cold floor covered with shit and in  bird wings,  reliving events ‘for them’ as if they were always there. No- one ever noticed this, they would have thought I was screwed in my mind.  When you realize this afterwards , you are able – in reflection- to resist the most destructive behavior which  is not feeling as your own behavior, especially when you have to live with the consequences of what you’ve done, as this broke down  life in ‘adulthood’ which really feels like a  double broken life.

Other people? 

I’m absolutely convinced there are others that have experienced this about the same  and are not even aware of this. Or maybe others could not bear this – freaking out, creating  bad and violent  behavior making them ending up in jail,  or even commit suicide, which I understand completely. Others would get therapy and find out things in therapy, I didn’t, I found this out, only some five months ago…. Though everybody is in a way responsible for their acts, jail and isolation are the worst places to be when you have this. What you need is a safe environment.  Triggers and violence, but also isolation  brings back things that you don’t want and take over your life, you even don’t  notice this happening. Being implanted with ‘ideas’  is only  understandable  in  retrospection of behavior. I hope others have this retrospection  too, to prevent more trouble for themselves or for others.  I had the “luck” not to end in jail, to prevent worse things, though child personality’s brought  me in  big trouble all the time and society always  responded  with  incompréhension, agression and even with great violence and never offered me help. It would be the  best to reverse this: offer help, trying to understand it and see how to overcome this in a safe environment.   

Born free

Now every person on this earth has been born free. Free from DID or attachment disorders.  Free of  implantation of ideas. This is for me a consolation and is giving hope to change,  change to return to that position of birth, to turn  all variables  to zero and get free.   A  part of  deep evil events against this body is defeated for the moment  and I’m in a progress to withstand  what controls my mind,  but I’m insecure about the future especially when circumstances would  change.  I hope this story could clarify impact of  ‘learned behavior’ given by others that wanted to determine your life. Very often I think “I had better been killed”, as l surviving  means a life time struggle.  Back in 1999 only a very small part of this has been  been explored in therapy, –  it was said  this would be too heavy to really explore – consequently I have to deal with this all by myself for life. Though it was a  psychotherapist’ considered decision  not to explore this as this might cause further fragmentation or worse,   I  think maybe it is considerably heavier  not to explore this and have this in your  mind for life…  it would better slowly exploring this in a safe setting of therapy… to be born free again.Who wouldn’t have that?!  

Fepijn Doorn


(I apologize for  any mistakes in the grammar of this article)

TRIGGER WARNING (RA) Even the light was dark (English)

TRIGGER WARNING (RA) Even the light was dark (English)
Warning: the content of this story might trigger others who suffer from psychotrauma.
This story is written in English, which is not my native language, so I hope some mistakes in grammar are forgiven.

Introduction to this story

This is a short, very personal story about dissociation in childhood. Dissociation is making a change between ‘personality’s ‘ in ‘yourself’ (the question is than: what, who is yourself, something that is not to define), changes that even might happen without noticing it.  This is what often happens,  but you simply didn’t notice it, you always felt very strange about identity, about the body, the different ages you’re in (especially the ages under twelve) , strange about the environment, about habits, etc.  But it is really very hard,  when there is so much strange violence and bizarre things in your head, coming back every day, when ‘something’ or some part of you wants you to  have very cruel, mean things to happen again and again in your head.  In fact, this part is ‘using your brains and your body for it’, strange enough this is all to feel finally safe again after. How can you feel safe after so much violence and very cruel things happening in your mind ? So, when it happened again, it’s over. Memories  about”what is all is behind “and what it’s all about are not able to get into your conscience. Every day, since I remember, – I think since I was three or four years old – this extreme violence  ‘enters’…  breaking your life everyday again, holding you in a certain period, in a certain setting of long ago  

This means, e.g. you can never go to sleep the normal way, without some part of you is making all terrible things  happening again in your mind – to feel  again safe after… this even happened ten – twenty times a day…. In this way you never get a ‘normal’ life, as things happen ‘inside’ you which is also ‘between’ you and, but also “against ‘you”. This story describes how this worked for/ in ‘me’ during early childhood,  this is till ongoing up to now (this is not ending).

This story is about terrible events that happened over 50 years ago and which I write down now in 2016  for a wider public. Why? I never had the guts to write it down, to realize this actually happened and controlled and still controls my life, as if I was trained to do so much ‘crazy things’ and have a head filled with so much violence… The first thirty  years of my life,  I did  not  even ask myself one single question about my childhood, about this strange ongoing violence in my head even though I ended up with parts of dead birds, feathers  and worms in my bed, having strange events in my mind; I did not realize this even when I was all the time getting physically sick because of  what was done against this body by different parts in me, resulting in slowly damaging my  digestive system by eating dirt and shit – something controlling my mind. 

 Only once it has become triggered (explained further in the text) , you start asking yourself why is all this in your mind from very early childhood,  why there were so many problems to feel safe, problems with this body (“Am I an animal?”), with sexuality (with witches and with cruel things in blood), why you were so terribly afraid of adults, why you had as a child so much problems with sex with (dead) animals, and why as a child  you were repeatedly playing that you would be raped again when you were in bed until you felt the pain again (by placing sticks and other objects in yourself);  and all those other crazy things in your mind. Yes, this was a great burden, you never realized this was not something really from yourself, you kept it with you everyday of your life, without ever thinking about it.

 There are two important things that made it possible to write a story about this from early memories, even  though things happened in very early childhood.  At first, my life before  ca.three years old also had left ‘normal’ memories, especially those of the typical environment where I grew up, (which environment was very, very different compared to all later situations) and  these memories from early childhood about the environment have been confirmed, it was exactly the way I remembered.  Than, there were memories about some ‘normal’ events in early childhood, like saying goodbye to family members that visited your family  and returned  in the  evening – you still see them waving, you still see the street, the lamp lights, yes the whole atmosphere,  that has been confirmed. After all,  events took place between two years old and two years and eight month or also earlier.   Secondly, there are sudden events that took place during crucial periods in my youth, namely when I was almost three years old: the total change from ‘home’, to a children’s home; than at almost four years old : the sudden change from the children’s home to a foster family in another part of the country. So there’s a clear division in episodes, there’s always a ‘before’ and ‘after’ these episodes that differ very much.  Strange enough, memories from the period 11 -17 years old are almost absent.It is known, memories from the early childhood exist;  (see )

Evidence for the basic of this story

Some twenty years ago, I  found some important evidence about what was in my mind. At first it became confirmed that the blood that was always in my mind had been really there.  It was  told there was the killing of many, many different animals (even daily) and the fact my father had become crazy after the Jehova witness group kicked him out; someone described it to me as ‘….he  became completely crazy…and extremely violent”. Another event was very remarkable, directly told to me. 

It is about what happened at the day of my birth. It has been told by my mother that a group of persons  waited for my birth. Than this group of ‘friends of my father’  visited my mother on the day of my birth.  She told me, they (this group)  immediately  after I was born slaughtered an animal above me as newborn baby,  while they cut my mothers clothes with a knife and she was forced to act as if no child was born, as that was what they told her:  “No child has been born here… “.  My mother had to make coffee for them while she was completely naked and bring it to them in denial a child was born.  Moreover, my father hated and rejected me with all his heart, because he thought I was not his child, he was also very cruel against animals  and he tried to kill me when I was two years old by wanting to choke me in bed (my mother told me that) and again,  when I was 17, he tried to kill me with a knife. 

The motivation to write  down this outspoken  very personal story now is twofold. At first, people around me and in general do not at all understand what kinda hell life you really have in ‘some background’, that’s always there, which will never leave you – , living a life that is always mixed in more personality’s especially being in ages of a child which is very difficult as you are e.g. not allowed to act that way, go to school, etc…. So these personality’s didn’t grow up and are still there in its original form.  The second reason to write this story is more important, as such things should be prevented if possible… when it comes to sadistic or ritual abuse of children, one is quickly thinking about deep injuries and many scars, visible on the body.  Indeed, I have one small scar from a knife, (now it’s rather small) placed at the bottom of my back, so that’s all there is visible on the body… This story describes how  this type of abuse had very deep impact in the mind and changed conceptions, observations and behaviors completely, as if you were controlled to act as if they learned you, which all is not visible at your body, or observable from most of your daily behavior. It is my feeling,  this type of abuse is more easier to carry out than one might think, it is the setting which is most important, not the  location. It’s  all about certain ingredients to humiliate, dehumanize and get complete control by means of  extreme loud shouting, whispering, threatening, adding symbols and stuff like blood, shit, bones, fire, slaughtered animals, hanging, darkness, etc.  This is meaning, this sort of abuse might happen more often, depending on if disturbed individuals would go so far to really  torture children, maybe especially in more closed communities or more distant places. These extreme  experiences made, my life was chaotic and I  was controlled by others- still today  it feels as a large part what is ‘mine’ (feelings, sexual things, identity, what I see reversed such as it is good to eat worms, you must worship a baby, crows see me, etc.) is not at all mine, I disgust it, but I do not know how to change what others trained me in, nor how to deal with everything. I do not receive any help for this.  

I hope this story might contribute to a better understanding of a difficult life, dominated by such experiences. Of course it would be the best thing to prevent all of this for future generations, but that is utopia.  

Provocation of memories about sadistic abuse

In 1993 after the cruel, violent death of the toddler James Bulger in England by two boys, my life completely collapsed and a stream of memories and flashbacks got into my mind and I started painting, making hundreds of paintings about what was in my mind. Later, to collect evidence I spoke with people, my story has partially been confirmed to understand the setting of this violence, performed by a small group and I found some indirect evidence at a location. The story, written down here  in 2016, is rather close to the many fragments of memories, and are, as much as possible, placed in chronological order, except those things from before three years old . this story includes three personality’s : (1) Gipsy boy  ( between 2 and 3 years old) who must have lived before I got any real identity,(2) Fepijn  ( ca 3 years old) whose identity would have started somewhere at three years old and ( 3) Sterry, a very small baby  (age unknown).

IMG_4882 - kopie - kopie

SHORT STORY,  written 2015, december; translated in English

This is an untold, secret story about Sterry, a very small baby; Who has become the Highest of the Holy, His Highest Majesty Sterry.

In the beginning, there was Gipsy boy, who was somewhere between two and three years old. Why he was Gipsy, I don’t know, maybe because, there were many gypsies around, forming groups where he was occasionally involved in, but moreover it could be explained because his life was absolutely not indoor all the time. On the contrary, a large part of his life took place outside, in a scenery of small enclosed meadows, hedges, bushes, old sheds and high, dark green painted fences, which was his world as he would remember it too.  Gipsy boy, would have been around two and a half years old, living here with his family, which were his parents and his brothers and sisters. Gipsy boy was most of the time alone, feeling alone, often separated from his family, which he felt especially during the evening, when the night falls and colors are changing from dark blue into deep black…

Sterry, who was only a very small baby,  lived here too and knew who Gipsy boy  was; he often kept asking him his name, when they met. It seemed they spent some time together, maybe playing together, depending on what game was involved.  Gipsy boy, with his dark brown eyes, than would be looking at Sterry and only sometimes he had some idea that he knew who Sterry was, but he didn’t know how, as if he did not entirely realized he spent some part of his life with him together. 

Yes, he really did remember this small baby Sterry, when they were kept in these baby – beds  with such  a strange sloping floor; and yes, he would never, no never forget the gentle smile of this little baby, but he didn’t want to remember this at all. Why, he didn’t know.  Gipsy boy lived in the very dark years between 1963 and 1965, and though he was very small, he could sort of ‘handle’ the world he was familiar with, as this was his world, where he had no other choice than playing his part in all what happened, till finally it all would be over and he would be released again. 

And in this scenery, as  far as he remembers, many deep – angry things were happening, sometimes it even happened suddenly, because he didn’t realize it was going on already, as if it had not dawned on him, or more, as if it were a common part of his life and he suddenly realized it was already going on.  One event was following the other and between all these events, for him there was this gentle silence, especially when he was playing outside on his own: there he used to be playing on a tiled floor behind the house, playing whatever he chooses to play with… Yes, in this absolute silence outdoor, playing on the tiled floor, he was free, he felt absolutely, completely free, as no- one would tell him what to do, or interfere his thoughts.

But it was the long dark summer and autumn of 1964. Some  of the leaves started already spreading around and the darkness filled the entire world around him and the evenings were slowly turning into a deep dark blue; this time was bringing him events of some people, which, he really knew, was always in the sand; either below the trees in the bush or sometimes even somewhere inside a building, but than again, everything was happening in the sand too. Could he really be lying in the sand in a building?

These angry events were absolutely not caused by real people at all, as Gipsy boy knew them more like some sort of ‘ big cats’, because of those funny ear shaped things  they have on top of their heads. In these events it were, where he got totally lost, where he would completely break down; where he would wake up afterwards completely alone and would cry in the cold morning sun, in a distorted image of complete crude silence, as nothing worse ever happened before and which made him completely lost.

In this late summer of 1964 , it is where I see the baby Sterry staring at Gipsy boy, when he saw him waking up after a very heavy, cruel night. I hear Sterry asking: “Who are you?”, he asked  with a very light, trembling voice, as if he had such fear for this boy; “Who are you?” he repeated when he saw Gipsy boy lying down in the sand, not moving, not answering, his face still covered with dried blood, vacantly staring all the time at a pole to which he had been tied at before.  Gipsy boy was completely broken; he did not hear Sterry’s voice  and he didn’t see Sterry turning away from him, wondering about all of this.

O yes, Sterry did not understand why Gipsy boy would not ran away from all this. He would never, never, never be like Gipsy boy, as he disgusted everything that happened here, and would better be hiding, some place, far away. Especially this last period, when it all got worse…when there was more crying, screaming, more blood…Gipsy boy stood up and cried. Tears mixed with the dried blood and dirt on his face. All of his body was covered with blood and dirt. He did absolutely not remember all what happened, he’d been taken into a completely different world, a world where nothing was the same. I see chicken bones and feathers in blood, still covering the sands. Everywhere it was dirty, so deep dirty.

Than, Gipsy boy heard someone came walking up to him and picked  him up. He looked up, and cried when he realized it was really over, as it was his mother that took him back home again, as she always found him again somewhere.  Don’t leave me here”, he thought shivering and he felt better when she took him close to her, hugging him for a while. All she would do now, was clean him up, give him something to eat and let him sleep for a very long time as she never had the time to stay long with him – it had always been like that…

Gipsy boy could not yet realize it was over, but his mother took him by the hand and let him slowly walk back beside the high fence between the large sheds, into an enclosed patio behind the house, where she started washing him and dressed him to go to sleep. He was still dreaming, shivering, as he was still ultimately high from what happened, while meanwhile it felt so sad, so hungry and so deeply exhausted, all he wanted  was to go to sleep… He still felt that pain deep inside, he still could hear some evil laughter in horrible cries and a stirring music, which all still remained in his head. Yes, he heard some monotonous whisper repeating in his head, as if his head was still going around, around and around. All he would do, was close his eyes and cry as his mother released his feeling of being broken down.

Whatever happened so badly, it still was only an event, something that happened and would always end. But Gipsy boy was so very afraid. He was so afraid,  there was nowhere to hide for it.  Mother laid him carefully on the floor and took a blanket, covering him softly and her softness made him forget what happened, but also made him cry again. But she laughed and talked to him, and she looked very endearing before she left, so he would just close his eyes to go to sleep. But there, right before he was falling asleep, I see Sterry approaching him, getting so close to him and I see, he was even trying to touch him as if he did not know what or who Gipsy boy was. Sterry wondered: “Why?”

It was told that  the black crows, that were always around, carry in themselves  the spirits of the death, that are watching all things you do – I don’t know why- it were again these witches that came here to play – when the crows are there. Gipsy boy knew that crows always could see everything he does and he had such immense fear for these birds.  Witches – Gipsy boy called them like this only when he got four years, as these were to him some sort of big cat – like figures, that he used to call big cats, that would come to take him completely. O, Gipsy boy knew the common cats producing a ‘miauw’ and he liked them and did not have any fear for them.Sometimes, when he was five years old, he thought he even knew these were real witches, but in his memory they were stored as big cats. How crazy this was mixed, but he wanted to give it a name…

Taking you, would mean, these big  ‘cat-= figures’  place his face down on a hard block, beating his body while they’re laughing, meanwhile feeling his body everywhere, forcing him to eat … shit and dirt, worms, learning him to eat it.  During  time, he was sort of waiting underneath a sheet, waiting. Lying down in a slaughtered dead animal, in blood.  Waiting  and  being threatened to be slaughtered with big knifes…waiting for the dirt and all what got to be inside. Threatened to be eaten, like the slaughtered animals.   So he was  laying down  in the sand in a slaughtered animal and they covered him with blood. He got lost.   These witches took all of his body but most of all they needed his head, to cover him with shit and blood and they took his head in their hands, as they always needed his head to whisper loudly these strange words in his face, almost in the darkness, while he had to look up, at these figures on the wall. Who were they?

Their hands, that took his head to feed him dirty things, have fingers that were covered with shiny rings, they were absolutely real witches. Here, Gipsy boy was not someone that was special or important, on the contrary. He was used as the ultimate lowest,  they were terribly laughing at him, when he was covered in blood and dirt, when he was eating their dirt from the ground, crawling on the ground for them as he was some sort of animal for them and all of them hated him extremely…Gipsy boy saw the animals being slaughtered upon his body, he heard the screaming and he had to kiss the head before the animal died, they put parts of the animals in his mouth, sometimes he had his mouth full of worms, and had to like it, they learned it  all in pleasure for sexual things. Before the head was cut off, he had to  kiss the fish head, but also  he knew this was for the baby.   Gipsy boy did not understand all of this and he was taken side to side between them, where he could see their hands with the rings, they drag him into a special place, which was the worst place to be; he was taken upside down, they took him only by his head, he was shaken, beaten and they were going inside his body, whispering….

He had to obey, as he was very small and they always showed him a violent death that was everywhere around, that would come when he would not be an animal for them. He saw them kill so many animals turning the whole world into blood, and they made him a part of it and learned him to have it in his life all this was to get ultimately high for these witches, breaking down completely in doing what they want, so Gipsy boy did not own a ‘self’in this.  But in his heart, Gipsy boy was so deep afraid, he was completely filled with fear and would only cry. But he couldn’t. Even more, they enjoyed his fear. That’s why I asked Gipsy boy: will you cry for me,  will you die for me. This was nothing for me.  

The events were repeatedly filling his head, everything was repeated so many times it was never leaving his mind.  And I still wonder who exactly were these big cats but he did not know.  In fact, there was one terrifying thing: his own father was there too. His father hated him extremely, so he got  pleasure in making Gipsy boy afraid, hurting him and making him crawl. O yes, he even remembered about darkness where he was kept in some place, completely abandoned and all he heard from a time to time was a deep bass sound of a heavy bell, as if he were in a church.  This was, what would be the destiny for the cursed, forsaken Gipsy boy, involved in things so evil, he would not even remember. But than, one day in September, there was an even bigger disaster. Suddenly it was all over. Everything was over. His entire world was over.

In a way, Gipsy boy did not exist no more, as it was all gone: his house where he lived, his small meadows, his green painted fences, his chickens, his sheds, his family and even his evil witches, it was all gone… All Gipsy boy experienced, was, he was transported by car in the early night, and when he looked backwards he saw the crescent of the moon, his own moon, in the deep dark sky. He was brought into a new life, in a children’s home, in the northern part of the country, into a complete new, different life, where nothing would be the same.

Once in the children’s home, I see Sterry appearing, knowing that he would have a chance to live again, in a real toddler’s dream, that would become reality for him – as here was the period of ‘cooling down’, as all events were over. But it was absolutely uncertain what would happen in this new situation, so Sterry knew Gipsy boy might still be needed in case things would go terribly wrong, because Gipsy boy was used to the pain, the blood and all that shit and dirt. Sterry was not. Sterry was the most soft and most gently of all creatures, he was white, soft, gently, clean, wearing clothes all the time, he was never naked.

So now, as the whole previously known world was gone, this was a new world in the children’s home, only based on children as here adults seem to be completely absent in relations. There, in the summer of 1965, Fepijn  found himself somewhere in a group of children, sleeping together with them in small beds lined up on the attic floor. There were always some sisters around that ruled the groups from a distance, never really interfering, sisters that were absolutely not your mother, as they just talked to you and even though they’re gently to you, they d’ never would pick you up in their arms, or hug you when you were in pain, when you cried or got lost.  So this was all only about children and they really shared things with you in a new world, already being in the same situation, sharing their entire lives and habits.

But for Fepijn, there was more. He began even to feel safe here, as these children protected him, just by being around there, so nothing evil would happen to him, so no- one would take him somewhere during the day or in the night. At least, as far as daily life was going on, it was nice to be playing with the toys, to take a walk in the neighborhood with the group, being together all the time, they were even starting to make fun together… Here, Fepijn was equally living with the others, though you yourself did not really exist, as you were always part of the group.

And than, one day, I see a sister taking Fepijn by his hand and leading him to what she explained as ‘a very nice place where Fepijn would like to be’, something that would get a very big influence on his entire life.  In the first place, there was this  arch shape in the ceiling of the corridor where she took Fepijn, he did not like at all and made Gipsy boy remember  some cruel events. He did not want to pass this corridor… But Fepijn followed her, walking by this small corridor and entering a large wardroom, where lined up beds were placed against the wall, with in every bed a small baby and where sisters were taking care of them.

It was here, where it started all again, as before coming here, the world of living creatures had been divided by Gipsy boy into three types of beings. There were humans, babies and animals. He’d learned that the latter two were not human and were part of the dead, the slaughter and the blood, wasn’t it? Gipsy boy wondered…How could these babies that he saw here have revived?

Gipsy boy looked at the babies and could not accept what he saw here. At one side, he did absolutely not want to see the babies being softly nursed, as what he saw was a completely new world he’d never knew; seeing the babies here brought back memories of his mother more and more and he could not get right he was brought here in stead of being in his own world. At the other side, he did not want to know about this at all as there was something so terrible wrong in watching this as now babies seem to be something completely different compared to what they’ve learned him before and what was in his mind. 

But Sterry, meanwhile  watching this, was on the contrary very pleased and would want to rule instead, yes, no – one else but him would live here, if necessary he would even take Fepijn’s place and prevent him to live as here babies play a big role in a real human world, in daylight: here is a start of a new life, he could change the whole world, he could act as if  nothing has ever happened. . Here, the witches were gone, the black birds were gone, the evil was gone, Sterry could be free again, just to be brought back in a toddler’s dream…that everything is alright…. So, Fepijn, between three and four years old very often had to visit the baby’s ward as some sort of therapy they ‘d invented for him,  and observed them in what Gipsy boy called “ The Paradise”, all the time bringing back rude confrontations  for Gipsy boy… But after a while, Gipsy boy accepted these poor small creatures did not die before and were just brought here, like he was, having no father and mother to take care of them…. But he did not want to remember babies no more, even though Sterry brought the babies into a toddler’s dream, of , being safe, so he’d turned the whole world upside down to create his new world from this for Fepijn, to make him remember …as who was Fepijn? Fepijn was a raw sum of Gipsy boy, Sterry and something else.

And Fepijn, meanwhile, did absolutely not know how to deal with all this. He just played here by himself, as if nothing ever happened and as if he was making progress, as if nothing would really matter for him, not even his parents or these babies. But that wasn’t the truth, he realized, growing up meant going further away from his home town, from his family, from his mother, into a world that he didn’t understand, where there was nothing for him.

And in the evening, when it gets dark, Gipsy boy wouldn’t allow Sterry to take over Fepijn’s entire life. He brought back what he knew, what he was, as he didn’t know or wanted to know here what would be good or bad. He didn’t want Fepijn to think about Sterry.  As this was not his world, not where he played his part, or where he belonged. Gipsy boy wanted to go home, to his own mother. He knew,  though it all was terrible, he was in some sort of power, as he was made something real : he kept the memories of his own home, his mother, there where he felt he belonged.  Gipsy boy asked himself in anger:” Where is everybody I knew? Where is my world? Where is my mother? What am I doing here?”  So here in the children’s home, Fepijn was taken either in the world of Gipsy boy, or in the world of Sterry, depending on what happened during the day.

These two, Gipsy boy and Sterry, would never match together, as Gipsy boy ‘s world stopped when they broke down his life completely and brought him into this children’s home. Fepijn was not at all part of this, as wasn’t it Gipsy boy that had survived before, till his life finally was completely broken…. Sterry on his turn, took Fepijn away from Gipsy boy, completely denying what was before, as he realized Fepijn would never bear what terrible things have happened before, it would be incredible for him to realize…

But now, in the late autumn of 1965, we are one year after all the angry events and  the world seemed to be opening again, seemed to be a bit safer and  the sun could be shining again. Red roses were growing in the garden around the home – building and were shining so bright, Fepijn even wondered he could love these beautiful colors…he wondered that he had feelings – this is his first nice memory of his  life he would remember.  The other children in the children’s home would protect Fepijn against all possible evil, no one would take him in the night, but can you  really be absolutely sure about that? No one knew what happened, no one talked to him about his fears, about his thoughts, his feelings, as if he did not exist.  So he had to wait, simply wait till things would go better and he would feel safe enough to start growing up in a new life. But there would not be a  better life…

It happened right after Christmas of 1965, there came the day, he suddenly had to leave this children’s home where he stayed over a year. He was brought to an uncertain place again, far away, where nothing would ever be the same again. No one had explained him what was going to happen. Sterry was afraid, leaving the place where the babies and toddlers brought him a safe place, protecting him just by their presence; a place where the spirit of his mother in a way still had accompanied him, where he was used to the new life with the other children and where he had taught Fepijn how to see babies as part of his new life. This time, it all was gone for Sterry. This had been his world, a world of a little paradise after hell and where Fepijn could go visit the babies to feel better again – to live in a toddler’s dream. Why do they have to leave ?

They brought Fepijn far away again, to a small village in the middle of the country, where it appeared to be he had to go to live at some people that would become ‘new parents‘. O yes, for the outside world, maybe it would look well enough. These foster parents  were living in a normal house, there was a wicker basket filled with toys and there was a real bed with white shining sheets and clean blankets; there was a school  to visit and there was food enough. But these were foster parents, not at all replacing any mother or any babies that use to smile at him, as he had to learn in baby therapy when he was three years old. There was no-one here in this new situation  that would ever understand what happened before or what was experienced and this was not a real home where he would be someone.

O yes, of course! It was Gipsy boy taken over Fepijn’s life sometimes; making big mistakes in the beginning, because he was talking his strange spells, talking about things like cannibalism, blood and witches – what everybody like the teacher placed aside as being ‘fantasized’ – and he was not at all realizing his naked body was not to be used  for sex, like he thought it would be normal again, being in a similar situation like before, he did not understand dead animals were not normal to other people.  So Fepijn got more and more stressed by the fact no one understood what he ‘d experienced  and what Gipsy boy was doing, so  he  wanted to try to ‘somehow’ live here again as he had no choice. Meanwhile Gipsy boy did not accept this at all and he was furious about all what happened so  all he would do now  was bring back the witches, his witches to Fepijn

And so it happened every evening before going to sleep,  Gipsy boy brought back the witches, bringing him evil pain and extreme violence, the intense fear for hanging on the hooks, the running blood, together with these evil crazy sexual things and even he did bring back the dead itself in Fepijn’s mind- also to bring him an escape from reality of this new unwanted family situation. Fepijn on his turn  absolutely didn’t like to remember all these evil things, still he had  no choice as Gipsy boy brought it to him every night. Gipsy boy was still furious about this new foster family, that in his eyes betrayed his own father an his own mother, his scenery, his own world. Sterry, meanwhile, watched this happen as his world of babies and paradise was lost as well and he understood Gipsy boy came back to take control again as here he seemed to be almost powerless: there were no babies, everything was uncertain again.

But all Gipsy boy’ experiences made Fepijn feel confused;  so, when he became about five years old, I see him sitting on the edge of his bed, in a complete silent moment; it was here he was thinking all the time: `I ‘m crazy, I’m just absolutely crazy, this is not me, I’m just an animal, I’m not like the humans…Why do I have this? What have I done?”and he started looking at his body, why it would not be like the rest. And yes, I can admit, he was crazy indeed: because what was he? He was absolutely nothing and he knew it. He ‘d become a bizarre sum of some baby called Sterry who he did not know and his old ‘what he was’ named  Gipsy boy,  and something else  that just lived in daily life, which part was pretending for the outside world nothing did matter at all, which of course was far from the truth. 

Yes, he  was living somewhere between the different broken worlds they gave him, not knowing where to live, how to live as he didn’t know what he was: was he a human, or an animal? Why did he think of himself as an animal? What happened? Was this all a punishment for what he ‘d done and could not remember?  He didn’t know what to  do,  because no- one accepted anything of his life, accepted him as being someone – being human-; someone  that was living, no one accepted he had to deal with his very  different worlds, no one was giving him just the time to re- order, to redraw, to simply understand what happened and happens. Life was going far to fast.  What was more, when he was lying in his bed, Fepijn thought he would not deserve it to live, that he was cursed and that the babies- now fading away -, showed it to him because all what happened.

Fepijn himself would very much like to become a baby again, as this was not fair. Why blame him for the whole mess of this life he got? Sterry made Fepijn more weaker by showing him, who he was as he was no longer a baby or a toddler and Fepijn wondered all the time what happened. “What did happen?” he asked, “What has been so extremely terrible in my life?” “Why do they all come to take me every night?”  “Why does everyone hate me?”

Go back”, is all I hear Sterry whispering one evening, when Fepijn was lying in bed, “go back to your time of being a baby ”. So he made Fepijn to look at babies, to look for everything belonging to the babies, like diapers, like small baby cloths, bibs, everything he remembered from the baby ward he used to visit  for his baby –  therapy so many, many times. His head was filled with baby’s. 

Gipsy boy meanwhile knew, that being a baby and toddler meant for Fepijn at the same time going back into his world, the world of the witches he knew, and he brought it all back to Fepijn, to feel high again- to get totally lost in pain and violence again- so he would not be alone. Fepijn now got  a very large problem with sexuality and keeping it alright in his mind. 

But it was not enough, as Fepijn lived in this foster family also in a constant fear, feeling desperately alone and lonely- and as violence came back, this time from the foster parents, that started to do very mean things. At first, being five years old, they started giving him ice cold showers, calling him ‘a dirty body’ probably as a reaction to Gipsy boy’ s attitude, thinking his body was for sex. And from the time he was seven, they started threatening to cut his testicles of his body, threatening him also they ‘d bring him into very worse children’s homes, where his life would turn into hell, meanwhile beating him and his genitals with  shoes and sticks.

Fepijn got very troubled again when he became  seven years old in 1969, also because they took him into their church and he got baptized which was extremely terrifying for him as he was so afraid everything would start again- he cried when they drag him to the font to get baptized; no- one ever explaining anything that would happen. He was afraid they would slaughter him afterwards. It was also impossible to get really seven, it was the very wrong number, he knew somehow. So Gipsy boy, who already brought back the complete world of witches with all these crazy sexual things in blood, brought in Fepijn now the  threatening of  being slaughtered on the hook for all sexual things: he brought back what he remembers. But now, it was only one witch controlling his mind and who  talked again to him, whispering monotonous spells; letting him crawl back again in his mind, letting him eat and drink, letting him hang, hang, hang; and Fepijn got lost again in this all, as he was entwined between all the world of this evil violence, a  new religion of the foster parents and the new  violence and threats of those foster parents.

Fepijn really hated all adults, without any exception; he hated them intense, completely, absolutely, with all his heart, with all his soul, he simply hated everyone that was not a small child.

But meanwhile he knew, he was depending on them, he had to make a chance to live normally, just like other children he observed sometimes, boys that were accepted as real humans, – even as real boys- that were living, running, laughing, shining and lived in a real world, with normal clothes, normal contacts, all he had never known.

This all continued for years as he grew up seemingly normally, but no- one knew about the ongoing violence every day in the foster family and what was also going on in his head every night before sleeping time. So there was violence day and night, violence from these foster parents during daytime and  when he was in bed and there was evil violence from Gipsy boy before going to sleep and during the night. So here in 1969, it all came back so cruel one evening, after he had been beaten by that foster mother, making him crawl back under his bed to hide from her ongoing beating.

That night, a real cross with an iron hook appeared at the mantelpiece of the bedroom, he saw this appear  right next to his bed and the whispering came around him…they turned his body upside down to kill him on this hook, and the knife was there to cut his body open and let all the blood run out. Their stabbing knifes were placed at his body as threads for all these sexual things he knew, all for the killing, to beat him again, he was brought into evil and sexual pain. He had to get high from this pain and blood, feathers. This was a  very cruel night in his mind.  Gipsy boy meanwhile was full of fear, full of extreme anger, full of emotions that he could no longer get right. 

He tried to make Fepijn kill  himself, but he did it the wrong way as he thought Fepijn had to sweat in blood under the blankets and to be choking,  but after some long time, he did not succeed and his second attempt where Fepijn was kept in a sack to stop breathing wasn’t successful either, so his extreme violence continued for the next years. 

And a new, very difficult problem arrived. Indeed, Fepijn was just going to school, even trying to make friends, but he has been really punished for that so he would not even try to contact other children. Fepijn tried to play in his own world where he became the King of his own Island; this Island he build from a large diversity of toys. He communicated with the inhabitants of this Island wherever he was, as here he had a world where he was someone, yes he was the king of the Island. In this way he was not so lonely as he could speak with the inhabitants of the Island.  Yes, he started a seemingly ‘normal’ life at school, with even very good results, all pretending it was going well; he joined a local swimming club and started collecting old medieval potsherds, which were found somewhere in the sand in the middle of the village.

But meantime, it was Fepijn that had a new, strange experience: he started to see Gipsy boy everywhere he came. But was that himself that was looking?  Everywhere Fepijn came in the outside world, where he saw toddlers or babies he saw his own group in the children’s home and he saw Gipsy boy. When he was for example on his way to school, there he saw Gipsy boy, even though it was just a toddler with his mother.  It is now the period of 1970 till 1972 and everything returned because of this even harder and Gipsy boy, somewhere between two and three years old, decided to take Fepijn’s life completely, as he noticed Fepijn tried to live some sort of new ‘life’. 

Why did Fepijn see Gipsy boy when he saw a toddler or a baby? Was it because he could not understand anything that happened this period, that had not finished for him at all? Was it because of the pleasure, the consequence of being so high in the strange crazy sexual things that took control of him, which they placed in him? Maybe yes, as he could not resist the world in this cruel foster family that he was confronted with – what could he do with all the wicked memories of this time, no -one ever had spoken about and meanwhile the ongoing violence of these strange crazy people, beating him systematically with sticks?  But there was something even more important, there was simply not any new world to live in. There was no direction to choose, as there was no- one he had contact with, there was nothing new to live in. What was so deep wrong in his life? Was it because he was an animal or because he’ d been a clown? What did he do so wrong that everybody hated him? Why was he cursed? Why could other boys everywhere just  live like boys and have a real human body and have behavior?

And during the very long periods he had been punished to stay hungry in bed from the morning till the evening, without a real meal,  it was Gipsy boy that completely controlled his life, like before, when he was held in a cage. Denying of everything was useless, as all the small toddlers and babies in the streets brought back all broken, hidden forsaken  memories – and where are the good memories? He was extremely cursed and the entire world was in it; Sterry could not help no more, he seemed totally absent. This was a fight between Fepijn and Gipsy boy.

Fepijn knew Gipsy boy would easily win as he would never let him go and he had all the right cards for this, as Gipsy boy kept Fepijn hostage with his terrible secrets. Gipsy boy on his turn knew Fepijn would have mercy, pity with him, as he kept all the memories about his father, his mother, his family and what he sustained to survive those terrible things. Fepijn is already almost eleven years old, but Gipsy boy – only two or three years old- wanted to take completely control of his mind, of his life and drag him into the world where everything gets  down and doom… He would even have killed Fepijn if he could … But this time, Gipsy boy went too far.

This, because Gipsy boy had decided to bring all evil things back in such complete reality, while  Fepijn did absolutely not posses anything to carry this in his mind, as he was still nobody himself; he got really diffused and started to see the blood now in daylight when he was at school, when he was eating, when he was in the church, when he tried to be playing with his Island…he saw the Symbols and Signs on the walls in the streets, he repeatedly heard the call of the crow, he sensed this was desperately going wrong. He wanted this to end. As he didn’t know how to die – as the attempts before were not successful – it happened one evening in 1973, when he was completely surrounded by darkness, after everything had taken him again and he felt like he was still covered in blood, he asked to ‘anything or anyone  that would listen to him’. He didn’t know who he was asking for help, but he was desperately whispering in the dark: “Help me, please, please! Just help me, please, I can’t stand it no more, let it all please go away!”

And there the silence came, as if his prayer has been answered. It appeared as a miracle, as the largest relief. There was only this continuous silence that remained.

It was, as if the cursed demons in his head had feared and escaped from this desperately voice, they could not withstand. It was as if he was escaped of an entanglement of  what he had to be in all his life… This was the greatest  relief for Fepijn he experienced ever since. It was all suddenly gone, just gone! “This,” he thought, “is the greatest victory in my life.”  The first period of time, it remained unbelievable silent. Nothing was there to take him. No more witches, no slaughter or blood, no more killings, everything was gone, it looked like daylight could enter his life, despite the ongoing violence and isolation in this foster family. It looked, as if he had won the battle.

But first, I see Sterry coming back, as maybe he would be afraid to be completely forgotten, when he saw Gipsy boy had to redraw his world and again I hear him asking his name. “Who are you, Gipsy boy? Don’t you remember me no more, Gipsy boy?”he asked desperately crying.

Gipsy boy now cried as well and slightly looked up at Sterry, who shivered and cried, as he understood, Gipsy boy was an ultimate lost creature, that never met the real world, and would never be part of the real human world. While he, as a Mighty Star, was once part of a safe world of the toddler’s dream. Sterry wanted Fepijn to get away from the witches, the evil, he wanted Fepijn to see how beautiful babies were, how soft, how living, how shining. He, Sterry, he would remain forever as the Holy Highest Almighty Sterry, that would be worshiped;  he would simply replace everything to a soft, nice world, filled with babies and toddlers, leaving everything else out, even all adults.

But meanwhile, while I see Gipsy boy fading away, still turning his head, shaking his head in completely denial, realizing he had to bear the ultimate evil, there was this Voice coming, speaking into Fepijn’s head. This Voice now, is telling every day these stories about what happened to Fepijn, as this Voice seemed to remember somehow exactly what has happened. This Voice is placing all kinds of these cruel events that happened at a great distance, so Fepijn is experiencing all evil from further away: it is told in the third person, so it’s not directly him. This  Voice wants him to have it all, every day of his life, sometimes more times a day – as if he is guilty to something and must obey to feel free and safe again.  But who is this Voice? Was this Voice a revenge of Gipsy boy, that didn’t want to be denied and send away? Was it a secret pact between Sterry and Gipsy boy against Fepijn, where Fepijn did not have any choice and was excluded from?

I can tell you, all of this is unknown to me and what happened next to Fepijn, after he is 11 years old, is also unknown to me. I, that is writing this story, I am not Fepijn, Gipsy boy, or Alex….. No, I am just writing this secret story, because there is something so horribly sad as I have known Sterry, who died in such a terrible way, during one of the nights in the dark years between 1963 and 1965.We must never forget this baby.

The original story in Dutch is elsewhere stored at this blog and contains much more information about some other evidence for this, especially what I remembered from below a seminar building. Investigations took place in 1999 and 2000 with full agreement of the current user of the building. I described the situation before entering there. It seemed to be correct.  The wooden box ( see picture below) has been  found here… in the sand in the basement  of the  building.



Investigations in 1999/2000 in very difficult circumstances ( problems with light, acoustics,  in a labyrinth of  dark cellars.

Some images seminary 1999/2000