November 2025 In My Kitchen

Hi everyone. I’m joining In My Kitchen once again. I wasn’t too active in the kitchen this past month, but would love to share the things I did regardless. I keep hoping the next month will be better. I may’ve finally convinced the behavior specialist that I need a more activity-based day schedule, so that I can do a cooking or baking activity more regularly.

First, let me share the one dinner I cooked for myself and my fellow residents this month, cooked on November 17. It was a curry with chicken, broccoli, onions, rice and topped with cashews. I loved it.

I had planned to cook another rice and chicken dish with the same staff last Monday, but she’s on sick leave. I found out a few days in advance, so planned to cook the dish with another staff, but she ended up calling in sick too and I didn’t find out until half an hour before her shift was supposed to start. She was supposed to bring the groceries, so it wasn’t like I could cook the meal with the staff who ended up doing my activity. This is one more reason for set activities: that way I can order or buy the needed groceries on time.

I did, thankfully, do a few baking activities. First, on November 1, I made Bastogne brulée. This is like crème brulée but with crumbled Bastogne biscuits mixed in. The recipe didn’t call for a brulée burner, instead instructing me to put the dessert under the grill of the oven for a few minutes. I think the dessert wasn’t a total fail and it looked similar to the photos in the recipe, but I wouldn’t make it again. At least not like this.

I ran the photos I post here through my screen reader’s image description component to make sure I have them posted correctly and guess what? It claims the dessert looks moldy. Yuck!

On November 16, my staff spontaneously offered to help me bake a sponge cake. We did use a store-bought mixture. When my wife saw it, she wondered what made it look green. She looked it up and it was simply blue and yellow food colorant. Not green food colorant, which made me wonder whether green colorants are even food-safe. At least, when I still made my own lip balms, I knew that all colors of mica that I could buy at the soaping supplies site were safe except for the green ones.



Unfortunately, the staff baking the sponge cake with me, did break my hand mixer by inserting the wrong tools into it. She said she’s going to buy me a new one.

Those were the main cooking and baking activities I did in November. I also created overnight oats a few times. Last Thursday, I also decided to whip up a vegetable smoothie. This was the first time for me creating a smoothie that mainly includes vegetables rather than fruits. I used broccoli, spinach, carrots and lime. The recipe called for a green pepper, but I misread it and got a green bell pepper. Since those are rather bitter and the recipe was supposed to be blazing, I decided to add some chili flakes. And blazing it was! I’m not sure what I think of the smoothie. I did give some to my fellow residents too. I did feel obligated to explain to one of them, who is quite a picky eater but loves smoothies, that this one is a little different. Thankfully, he liked it though.

We had our annual St. Nicholas celebration at the home last week. I hadn’t asked for a gift from the staff (since you actually pay for it yourself), but my sister sent me some gifts. She sent me cookie cutters and several cookie mixes too.

Today, my wife and I were at Hema in Apeldoorn and I got myself a potato peeler (since somehow the last one I had got lost) and a wooden rolling pin for the cookies. The rolling pin has a Nijntje pattern engraved into it. I hope that doesn’t make the rolling pin hard to clean. I took this picture myself just yet, so apologies if it’s misaligned or unclear.

Looking back over this post, I see that, even though I cooked dinner only once, I did engage in various foodie activities over the past month.

Fear (Or Another Four-Letter F Word)

Fear. I’ve used this word as a starting point for my writings many times. The idea comes from Mari L. McCarthy’s journaling prompts. The idea is to pick a four-letter F word and write about it or use it as a prompt. Well, I’m doing that now, but I doubt I’m actually going to write about fear. I honestly don’t know what to write at this point and am not feeling anything in particular. That is, I guess I “should” be feeling something, but I don’t know what. Alexithymia. That’s what I believe this is called. Any emotional state for me is “good”, “bad” or “neutral” like right now. I don’t ever feel totally relaxed I believe. There’s always some level of stress or anxiety or fear in my body or mind.

My movement therapist tries to tell me that my body needs to get used to the feeling of being relaxed, because due to my early childhood trauma, it never learned to trust this feeling. That makes some sense, in that I almost always feel like I’m on high alert even when I’m half asleep. Is that even possible? And if so, isn’t it just normal? Do I even know what “normal” is, being that I’m autistic and otherwise neurodivergent, multiply-disabled and a trauma survivor? I doubt it. But if I’ve lived my life like this for nearly four decades, is there any way of changing it? I hope there is, because this feeling of always being on high alert is exhausting.


This is another freewrite I originally typed up in Google Keep, then finished here.

I Don’t Owe Anyone a Grateful Heart

Hi all. Today’s prompt for Reena’s Xploration Challenge is quite fitting. Reena asks us to ponder the paradox of gratitude and resistance.

Sometimes, by being grateful, we can bring about change. I am reminded of a story in one of the Chicken Soup for the Soul books in which nurses on one floor were irritated with another floor’s nurses for their constant negativity. Instead of fueling the conflict by becoming negative themselves, the nurses wrote a lengthy gratitude letter to their colleagues. I am not sure whether this was exactly what the story was about, but this was at least the message I took from it. The fact that the one group of nurses focused on the positive rather than giving in to the other group’s toxicity, turned the situation around for the better.

At other times though, particularly when there’s a power difference between two people or groups of people, gratitude becomes passive resignation. In this case, while it can be helpful in the short term to the oppressed person to keep a positive outlook, if the oppressor takes gratitude as acceptance, in the long run nothing will change.

I will give an example from my own life. Regular readers of my blog know that I’ve been accused of having a negative attitude by many people in positions of power, such as my care staff and treatment providers in various care settings. An example is being told I ought to be happy that anybody wants to work here at all. Well, no. While it’d be easier for me in the short term if I could just accept the umpteenth random stranger for my one-on-one care, in the long run it’d mean I’d always get assigned the random temp worker because regular staff would rather support the others and chill out with other regular staff while they can. Besides, even if it’d cost me less effort to resign than it costs me to rebel, I don’t owe my staff a positive attitude. If there’s anyone for whose sake I should have a grateful attitude, it’s myself.

It doesn’t mean I don’t struggle with this whole idea. I feel intense guilt whenever a staff throws some variation of “be happy anyone wants to work here” at me. I am also constantly reminded in my head of my assigned staff at the intensive support home, who was disappointed in me for never having a perfect day even when they’d followed my day schedule completely and had always assigned me regular staff. Which, for the record, never happened.

I, for clarity’s sake, don’t think violent resistance is the answer. When I have a meltdown over some rule I disagree with, being aggressive will always end in me being restrained. However, there’s a whole world between aggression and passivity. And sometimes, unfortunately, the people in positions of power are so caught up in their reality of being the ones to decide, that they (either willfully or not) ignore my less obvious attempts at resistance.

For example, last week I was trying to resist the “one chance” rule about orienting new staff. I tried going along with what the staff wanted, but this only led to further abuses of the rule. I tried talking sense into the staff, but this didn’t work either. Finally, on Saturday, I had the most massive meltdown. I am not proud of my behavior at all. In fact, I really wish I could’ve solved the issue without being aggressive, if for no other reason, then because the staff are far stronger than me and I ended up being restrained. In the end, I thankfully finally got a meeting with the behavior specialist on Monday and the rule got ditched. Now all I can hope for is that my main message, that I have to consent to every individual rule or agreement affecting me unless the behavior specialist uses the Care and Force Act, got through to everyone.

Brave Choices

A few weeks ago, I was in the mood for writing but didn’t know what about. I downloaded Google Keep on both my PC and iPhone and just started writing based on a prompt I saw on the See Jane Write website. I had never heard of this site. The prompts for the month of November were all two words long. The prompt I used was “brave choices”.

I doubt I’ve ever made a brave choice. Most of my major life choices were made out of fear or avoidance rather than courage. Either that or they were really other people’s choices I didn’t rebel against, or not well enough.

For example, my choice to live independently, wasn’t really my choice. I was pressured by my parents into saying this was my goal after completing independence training and, once everyone except for my parents agreed it wasn’t a realistic outcome, the pressure had increased to the point of being unavoidable.

Similarly, my choice to live with my wife, wasn’t really my choice either. She wanted it, but hadn’t realized all the complcating factors, like my substantial care needs. She had good intentions, mind you, thinking our love would conquer anything. It didn’t. Thankfully, I was able to make the choice to go into the care facility in Raalte before our relationship suffered irreparable damage.

If there’s one choice I made in my life that could be considered brave, it was this choice. My parents and former professionals would likely say this choice was made out of fear too. They might have been right. Maybe, if I’d been truly brave, I’d have been able to organize my own care whilst living with my wife. Then again, now that we live separately, neither of us wants to live together ever again.

I still wonder whether I could improve my life if I didn’t make decisions out of fear or avoidance anymore. I mean, the reason I rarely try out new skills of independence, is fear, namely the fear that my staff will always expect me to possess an ability I’ve shown once, as well as other related or even unrelated abilities. This fear isn’t unfounded, but it’s holding me back more than it should.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (November 15, 2025)

Hi everyone. I’m joining #WeekendCoffeeShare again today. I’ve just had my last cup of coffee for the day. We didn’t have large biscuits that we are usually allowed to have on weekends, so I had a mini Mars candy bar. Let’s have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather. During most of the week, we’ve had unusually mild temperatures for November. We had some rain too, but not a huge amount. Today, the daytime temperature didn’t get above 9°C, which I consider cold but is actually normal for this time of year. According to my wife, the weather forecast predicted 27mm of rain today. We did get rain indeed, but not nearly that amount.

If we were having coffee, then I’d share that I did meet my movement goal on my Apple Watch each day this week. However, I’m pretty sure my 90-day average will soon be lower than my 365-day average, as I just barely met my goal most of these days and it’s been this way for a month or so already. My movement streak is somehow still stuck on 33 days.

If we were having coffee, then I’d update you all on my struggle re orienting new staff. The new staff, last week when being properly introduced to me finally, said this would be the actual (re)start of her orienting. Not so. She did get one more chance to be oriented to my morning routine, but not another to the activity time slot. I feel this was unfair, as during her original orientation to the activity, we only went for a walk because I, not having properly been introduced to her, didn’t feel like being vulnerable with her with a more difficult activity, such as polymer clay.

On Tuesday, this staff was assigned to me for my morning routine, but this one was different than the one she’d been oriented to. She asked me a ton of questions even though I’d told her during our introductions not to do this. Then, on Thursday, she got assigned to me for my activity. I was pretty angry about this, but several staff including the new one herself claimed she’d had her chance to be oriented and I just had to deal with it. I feel this is the world turned upside down, giving me responsibility for the success or lack thereof of her orientation. One staff went so far as to tell me that because I have one-on-one, staff need less orienting to me. In all honesty, I think the opposite is true, because when you’re supporting the group, you can always fall back onto a coworker. This same staff also said, when I said that they don’t expect my fellow residents to explain their routines to new staff, that I’m very different from the other clients and have a totally different diagnosis so not to compare myself. That triggered me to no end, because not only do I get told this nonsense in intellectual disability services, but also in psychiatric settings. And what I mean by nonsense is the assumption that I, because of my diagnosis, can deal with whatever the staff throw at me and just choose not to, while other people can’t help their behavior. I mean, of course I have an at least average IQ, but I am not in the care system for the fun of it.

Thankfully, it looks like my support coordinator is not in full agreement with the one chance rule at least when it applies to regular staff. Too bad the damage has already been done with this particular staff.

If we were having coffee, then I’d share that, on Wednesday, it was my wife’s birthday. I took a ParaTransit taxi to our house and we had lunch together, then chilled out and got pizza takeout. I gave my wife a handmade necklace with a skull pendant.

If we were having coffee, lastly I’d tell you that we had a dance party at the home yesterday. This time, I was too stressed to play DJ myself, but I did suggest a few songs to the staff.

The Good and the Bad: How I’d Rate My Days

Hi everyone. Today’s Sunday Poser is rather relevant for me. In it, Sadje asks us how we’d rate our day. I’m not going to pick a specific day, but use this as an opportunity to write about the quality of my days and as such my quality of life.

When the Center for Consultation and Expertise consultant met with me last September, at one point she asked me how I’d rate my quality of life on a scale from 1 to 10. I find this difficult to say, as some days just about completely suck while others are okay or even somewhat joy-filled. I said that, on my absolutely awesomest days, I’d still rate them 7 out of 10 due to the fact that I experience pain and other forms of discomfort daily. Honestly though, I’m being optimistic when I do this. Even on my greatest days, after all, I hardly experience any noteworthy things. Like, I consider cooking or crafting to be enjoyable, but is my day really more than just about okay when I have done one of these?

This also signifies that my life could still very much be improved with just a few in my opinion relatively minor changes to my care. However, my staff see it differently, because they believe I can’t do a cooking or crafting activity when I’m in distress and, I believe, they also think I should be happy with just a walk and a dice game each day. Which, honestly, I’m not.

This makes me feel bad. In the words of my assigned staff at the intensive support home, when the staff follow my day schedule perfectly and I get all familiar staff, my day should be perfect. I replied, in my opinion truthfully, that no-one ever has a perfect day.

Now, to answer Sadje’s question about how I’d rate today: I’d probably rate it a 4 out of 10. I was rather distressed due to another incident yesterday. I also didn’t get to do anything other than go for two walks and play a game of Yatzy. I did, however, manage to do some reading and, as you can see, am writing this blog post. This signifies that, despite my distress, I’m still relatively able to function. My days could still be a lot worse. Besides, I had a cup of green tea in the evening. Oh wait, there I was being cynical, because green tea has become my symbol for how I actually feel about my life: when a cup of green tea is the highlight of my day or even week, that’s rather odd.

“One Chance!” Still Haunts Me…

Today, I’m feeling like writing but am uninspired, so I’ve been checking out a ton of writing prompts and the like. I’ve been fiddling with various notetaking apps too so that I can finally write snippets without them needing to be finished right away. I know I could do WordPress drafts, but I for whatever reason don’t like that. I’m now trying out Google Keep.

One of the writing prompt series was Halloween-themed and the question was about my most recent nightmare. I can’t remember and, thankfully, I rarely get vivid nightmares anymore. I do get snippets of conversations that replay in my dreams. “One chance!” yells the staff trying to force me to accept her new colleague. Those two words haunt me. I have had this experience before.

I recently learned that PTSD nightmares do not necessarily involve the details of your trauma. I don’t know whether the Redditor who said this, based this idea on the DSM, as I’m fairly certain that in the criteria for PTSD, nightmares do need to be trauma-specific except in young children. However, even just reading that someone else experienced vivid dreams that aren’t necessarily connected directly to their trauma, feels validating.

When I was living on my own, I experienced extremely vivid dreams almost nightly and, even when those dreams weren’t directly connected to my trauma, they were disturbing nonetheless.

In a somewhat similar fashion, the staff’s comment haunting me, in itself, might sound rather innoceous. I mean, I know that it doesn’t necessarily take physical or sexual abuse for someone to be traumatized (again, contrary to what the DSM says), but if this comment were a one-off experience rather than a symptom of the rather traumatizing power dynamics involved in institutional care settings, it wouldn’t have stuck with me. Or it might have, but it wouldn’t have had the negative connotation it has now.

There’s a reason secondary triggers are a thing. I often feel shame about the numbers of triggers I have. Usually though, when the context isn’t in itself distressing, I’m able to point out that something is a trigger for me and move on.

Not with this one, but then again it was actually a boundary that was crossed. If this had happened with three people who aren’t professionally related, it’d have been considered a form of harassment. I still struggle with this concept: that what is considered “normal” in a care setting, would be considered a violation anywhere else.

Quality of Care

Hi everyone. Today, I filled out a survey by the Dutch disabled people’s lobby group Ieder(in) on the quality of my care and its impact on my quality of life. I filled out the same questionnaire in 2023, a month or so before moving to my current home. Back then, I rated my quality of care 2 out of 10 and ticked almost every box on incidents I’d been involved in (as a target).

Today, I could think of only one incident box to tick: incidents due to lack of oversight, such as elopement. I mean, I myself have been aggressive towards staff, but that’s not what was meant. I also rated my quality of care 5 out of 10. That’s still not good enough, but it’s a lot better than it was back at the intensive support home. As my wife jokingly said, maybe in two years I’ll rate it 8 out of 10.

That’s not even entirely impossible, because as I explained in the field for additional comments, the bureaucratic framework for better care exists. By this I mean that I have a budget for one-on-one care that’s sufficient and that on most days, the home isn’t too short-staffed to provide me most of the care I need. What still makes me judge my quality of care as insufficient, is the fact that the way my care is organized in practice, doesn’t work for me.

There was a question about whether you have familiar staff or not. Back in 2023, I think I answered that I almost always had unfamiliar staff. Now I can’t remember which box I checked, but I did put into the comment boxes that the team including so-called regular temp workers is so large and new staff are oriented so chaotically that I essentially deal with a lot of near-strangers.

Speaking of which, my support coordinator thankfully agreed to another chance at orienting the new staff I mentioned on Saturday. Today, she attended my evening activity and we just chatted in order to get to know one another. I still feel some discomfort around letting her be oriented to my morning routine tomorrow, but agreed to it anyway. The fact that the staff even gave me a choice, shows improvement.

I must say I’m less willing to accept awful care now than I was two years ago. After all, let’s face it, almost no-one in the outside world accepts a random stranger into their house who refuses to leave and demands to do personal care tasks for them. I was forced to do exactly that until a year ago (and on Thursday, but thankfully my support coordinator changed that). In that sense, I wish there were a question on the survey asking me how my care compares to two years ago. I mean, in early 2023 I wrote a pretty cynical post about a day with optimal care. I reread it just now, thinking I’d claimed my care was actually optimal back then. I fully intended to contrast my revised idea of what constitutes “optimal care” now with my screwed view back then. Thankfully, my perception wasn’t as screwed in 2023 as I thought it was. In fact, I said pretty much the exact same thing I said on the questionnaire today: the framework is okay, but the practical reality isn’t. I do feel my reality is better though than it was then.

#WeekendCoffeeShare (November 1, 2025)

Hi everyone on this first day of November. I’m not struggling as badly with memories of my admission to the psych ward (November 2, 2007) as I was in previous years. However, I’m struggling nonetheless.

Today, I’m joining #WeekendCoffeeShare. It’s been a while. I just had my last cup of coffee for the day and will probably take a break from writing this post for my 8PM soft drink and meds. Let’s have a drink and let’s catch up.

If we were having coffee, first I’d talk about the weather. It’s been a mixed bag but mostly rainy with daytime highs around 13°C. I didn’t do a lot of walking, but still managed to meet my movement goal each day this week. Unfortunately, it seems that my Apple Watch doesn’t care that I paused my activity rings while sick with probable COVID during the second half of September, as my streak is now down to 33 days.

If we were having coffee, then I’d moan about the fact that the care home is chronically short-staffed. There is, fortunately, a new staff here who started orienting a few weeks ago. She started her orientation on my side of the home on Tuesday. That day, I tried to make smalltalk with her, knowing that she’d be oriented to my activity the next day, but she hardly said a word. The next day, indeed, she was oriented to my activity. This went okay’ish, in the sense that I accepted her for the whole two-hour time slot and together with the staff doing the orienting, explained several activities. However, once again my attempt at getting acquainted with her didn’t get a response. The staff complimented me on how well I’d done. I told her she’d probably use that against me. I was right.

In the evening, the staff said she’d be orienting the new one to my morning routine the next day. Having hardly spoken with the new staff, I wasn’t comfortable with being naked around her yet, but the staff didn’t accept this. She claimed I hadn’t accepted the new staff in the afternoon either and just don’t want to meet new people and screamed that soon there’d be no-one left. I tried to explain my point of view, with the help of another staff, but to no avail.

On Thursday indeed the staff tried to force me to accept the new one for her orientation. She yelled that I had one chance and if I refused the new one now, she’d be considered as having had her orientation to me. This, I consider horribly unfair, as with the other clients, new staff get multiple orientations. But it’s in my rules, the same rules about no completely unfamiliar staff. I was originally told that the reason for the rules is simply money, ie. the fact that regular temp workers are not given an orientation period so I’m lucky to get one chance with them. I understand this, but I don’t think it should apply to staff who do get an orientation period. And for what it’s worth, I never said I needed temp workers to be oriented to me, but staff need to know these workers are still strangers to me and aren’t as familiar as the staff who’ve been working here for years. No rules can explain this, it’s about empathy. And I’m pretty sure the staff telling me off about refusing the new one, doesn’t have much of that for us clients.

If we were having coffee, I’d also moan about the fact that I now have no assigned staff at all. Like I said a while ago, the student one left for the intensive support home a month ago. The next one doesn’t want to work with me for now due to me having hurt her feelings. And yesterday I found out that the third one is off sick. I E-mailed the support coordinator asking her that, if I need to have another assigned staff, it won’t be the staff who I mentioned above. Don’t get me wrong, she’s fun-loving and great with activities, but she doesn’t know me behind the rules.

If we were having coffee, I’d try to end on a positive note. Yesterday, like six weeks ago, I joined the dance party at the institution townhouse. This time, I decided that I could deal with there not being a staff member for me and to just ask a volunteer if I needed help. One of the reasons was the fact that there were only two staff who are authorized to give meds at the home during the dance and I didn’t feel like I could ask one of them to accompany me, yet the other staff haven’t been oriented to me yet. I considered asking that one of the temp workers accompany me, but, for reasons that you’ll understand if you’ve read this far, felt this would be used against me. The dance was fun.

Finally, one more slightly positive note: we had general elections here in the Netherlands on Wednesday and, thankfully, Democrats 66 (D66) won. This isn’t the party I voted for, but it’s much better than the far-right Party for Freedom, which came out second. D66 is the most progressive, queer-supportive party out there. The reason I didn’t vote for them is the fact that healthcare and social security matter even more to me and the fact that D66 would likely need an economically right-wing party on the government too. However, unless Rob Jetten (D66’s leader) is a total hypocrite and cooperating with the far-right JA21 in favor of the left-wing GroenLinks-PvdA, things will be okay’ish in this respect. In any case, I’m looking forward to the first openly gay prime minister.