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It's Been Six Years

Helena Handbasket

Gold Meritorious Patron
It's been nearly six years now that I got on the plane to Australia. My attempt to move there was by far the greatest self-inflicted disaster of my life. For about 25 years before that, I had a fascination with Australia as a sort of promised land. I was sure that by moving there everything would work out fine and that my life, particularly my love life, would only get better.

Little did I know I was acting under a deep subconcious compulsion. I was being driven to seek out a new life for reasons that were well hidden from me. Now I do know what that compulsion was, and why I could never have found what I was looking for in Australia.

I call this compulsion The Great Plan, and even though I was completely unaware of it at the time, it explains many of the things I did in this lifetime that otherwise can't be explained.


Before Australia fever there was England fever, and before that San Francisco fever. Moving to San Francisco was an improvement for me, getting better until my heart was broken there. You might say I moved away, leaving my heart behind (cue Tony Bennett).

To better understand all of this, we have to go back five lifetimes, when I was an American farmgirl during the time of their Revolutionary War. I met this British redcoat, and we fell in love. But ultimately he received his orders to return to England, and he left. I never saw him again, and was heartbroken. I never married in that lifetime, waiting in vain for him to return.

Two lifetimes ago, I was born into the British nobility with lots of money, servants, and the finest clothes. At one point my husband and I moved to Australia so he could take a high government post. The sex was wonderful, but tragically, I died in childbirth at the age of 34. That's a pretty horrible way to go, and I'm sure I'm not confronting the full frightfulness of it. But, up until that point, this lifetime was totally fantastic, and this is why I wanted to go to Australia -- because, subconsciously, I wanted to return to where I had this wonderful life and live it again, even though, as we shall soon see, that would have been impossible.

The relationship I had in San Francisco was great for a year, but then we broke up, and it left me severely depressed for a year. I was on the edge of suicide, was unable to work, and nearly went bankrupt. This is the guy I have spoken about before on ESMB.

Now here's the thing -- all these people were the same person, in different bodies, with different names of course, but they were all the same man. Apparently we run into one another every few lifetimes, and I fervently hope we will meet again in the future.

Since he lives in the USA now, what I was looking for in Australia could never be found. I know that now but of course didn't know that six years ago.

(Someone on this BBS said something which led me to believe that he might know him. So I sent him a PM giving him some details, and he immediately ghosted me. Suddenly, he was no longer posting on ESMB, although he could be using a different name now. Since we were both using invented screen names, it's possible that really was him, posting on ESMB, with neither of us knowing who the other was.)

The way I was treated in Australia, by most people, was horrible. The one I call The Wicked Witch Of The West did her best to drive me away. She smashed my dreams of creating a business down under, and left me with nothing. (Although there were exceptions. Panda Termint and Jenni With An Eye were both very kind.) I had unmocked my life in Europe, and when I returned for lack of anyplace else to go, I had to start pretty much from scratch.

I returned just as a housing boom was getting started, and available apartments were scarce and high priced (and still are). I finally managed to rent a place in the suburbs, and hated it. (There are only three things to do there -- shopping, having children, and getting on the train to go to the city.)

They lied about the square footage. It was a stupid furnished apartment, which meant it was filled with their junky furniture while my own sat in an expensive downtown storage locker. My landlord kept hitting on me. Again I became severly depressed, although after two to three years it started to lift.

I consider I lost at least five years of my life.

Now I own a small condo unit in the city, but I don't feel successful at all about that. I still think about him a lot. See https://freshnewideas.eu/and-then for more information about what my life is like today.

Helena
 
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Enthetan

Master of Disaster
Forget your notions about "ideal love".

Be alert for guys who are interested in you. From out of that set, pick the one whose company you best enjoy. Build a relationship from that. Try your best to put up with his craziness, and try hard to minimize the amount of crap he sees from you.
 

La La Lou Lou

Crusader
It's been nearly six years now that I got on the plane to Australia. My attempt to move there was by far the greatest self-inflicted disaster of my life. For about 25 years before that, I had a fascination with Australia as a sort of promised land. I was sure that by moving there everything would work out fine and that my life, particularly my love life, would only get better.

Little did I know I was acting under a deep subconcious compulsion. I was being driven to seek out a new life for reasons that were well hidden from me. Now I do know what that compulsion was, and why I could never have found what I was looking for in Australia.

I call this compulsion The Great Plan, and even though I was completely unaware of it at the time, it explains many of the things I did in this lifetime that otherwise can't be explained.

Before Australia fever there was England fever, and before that San Francisco fever. Moving to San Francisco was an improvement for me, getting better until my heart was broken there. You might say I moved away, leaving my heart behind (cue Tony Bennett).


To better understand all of this, we have to go back five lifetimes, when I was an American farmgirl during the time of their Revolutionary War. I met this British redcoat, and we fell in love. But ultimately he received his orders to return to England, and he left. I never saw him again, and was heartbroken. I never married in that lifetime, waiting in vain for him to return.

Two lifetimes ago, I was born into the British nobility with lots of money, servants, and the finest clothes. At one point my husband and I moved to Australia so he could take a high government post. The sex was wonderful, but tragically, I died in childbirth at the age of 34. That's a pretty horrible way to go, and I'm sure I'm not confronting the full frightfulness of it. But, up until that point, this lifetime was totally fantastic, and this is why I wanted to go to Australia -- because, subconsciously, I wanted to return to where I had this wonderful life and live it again, even though, as we shall soon see, that would have been impossible.

The relationship I had in San Francisco was great for a year, but then we broke up, and it left me severely depressed for a year. I was on the edge of suicide, was unable to work, and nearly went bankrupt. This is the guy I have spoken about before on ESMB.

Now here's the thing -- all these people were the same person, in different bodies, with different names of course, but they were all the same man. Apparently we run into one another every few lifetimes, and I fervently hope we will meet again in the future.

Since he lives in the USA now, what I was looking for in Australia could never be found. I know that now but of course didn't know that six years ago.

(Someone on this BBS said something which led me to believe that he might know him. So I sent him a PM giving him some details, and he immediately ghosted me. Suddenly, he was no longer posting on ESMB, although he could be using a different name now. Since we were both using invented screen names, it's possible that really was him, posting on ESMB, with neither of us knowing who the other was.)

The way I was treated in Australia, by most people, was horrible. The one I call The Wicked Witch Of The West did her best to drive me away. She smashed my dreams of creating a business down under, and left me with nothing. (Although there were exceptions. Panda Termint and Jenni With An Eye were both very kind.) I had unmocked my life in Europe, and when I returned for lack of anyplace else to go, I had to start pretty much from scratch.

I returned just as a housing boom was getting started, and available apartments were scarce and high priced (and still are). I finally managed to rent a place in the suburbs, and hated it. (There are only three things to do there -- shopping, having children, and getting on the train to go to the city.)

They lied about the square footage. It was a stupid furnished apartment, which meant it was filled with their junky furniture while my own sat in an expensive downtown storage locker. My landlord kept hitting on me. Again I became severly depressed, although after two to three years it started to lift.

I consider I lost at least five years of my life.

Now I own a small condo unit in the city, but I don't feel successful at all about that. I still think about him a lot. See https://freshnewideas.eu/and-then for more information about what my life is like today.

Helena
I do understand what you mean about trying to find the right place to be. I have searched much of my life for the right place too. I believe that it's the wrong search. Feeling right has nothing much to do with place and more to do with feeling at home with ourselves wherever we are. Having someone to be with helps too.

It's about being at peace with ourselves, only then will you find someone to be at peace with and a place to be at peace in.
 

JustSheila

Crusader
I do understand what you mean about trying to find the right place to be. I have searched much of my life for the right place too. I believe that it's the wrong search. Feeling right has nothing much to do with place and more to do with feeling at home with ourselves wherever we are. Having someone to be with helps too.

It's about being at peace with ourselves, only then will you find someone to be at peace with and a place to be at peace in.
Good post. I think maybe it's a bit of both.

Some folks always cause drama wherever they go and the drama queens all live and hang out SOMEwhere.

Some neighborhoods enforce rules to ensure neighbors behave and some don't. Those that enforce rules cost more, but you can live far more peacefully.

After the Sea Org, I lived in the ghetto of LA for a while where I couldn't even order a pizza to be delivered because someone always stole it. The place was infested, too, with gunshots ringing out every night.

Even in the ghetto, I suppose you can lock yourself in a room or a house with a year's supply of food and live peacefully, but living with others, you have to find like-minded people, at least for the things that matter most to you, and have some sort of controls in for the angry troublemakers who want nothing more than to disrupt and upset any good feelings and take advantage of the others.

What you're saying is true, though - when you know what's important to you and live by it, it's easier to find a place with those who are like-minded and walk away from those situations and people who aren't right. It also means being genuine and having developed some self-esteem and self-confidence to pursue what is best for you.
 

Helena Handbasket

Gold Meritorious Patron
Forget your notions about "ideal love".

Be alert for guys who are interested in you. From out of that set, pick the one whose company you best enjoy. Build a relationship from that. Try your best to put up with his craziness, and try hard to minimize the amount of crap he sees from you.
Ah yes, the eternal question: is it better for a woman to be with a man she loves, or a man that loves her?

The first is far more rewarding -- but also more uncertain. If she can't do the first, then the second is more likely to actually happen.

Helena
 
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