No Emotions Allowed

A true story about fear, hope, healing and freedom

Preface

This book was growing within me for a long time with a speed and force of a hurricane at some points. My emotions, feelings and countless thoughts were boiling inside me during all these events and situations which I’m going to share with you here. All this in general was a result of forced labour as an illegal worker which I was experiencing at the time. Unfortunately, even today there are still many victims of that vicious procedure all over the world.
It will take you through the journey of life of legal and illegal migrants in the Republic of Ireland (ROI) not long ago. You will find here a real story about forced labour, discrimination, prejudice. I will expose challenges that most immigrants were facing on a daily basis on many levels. Language barriers, cultural diversity, physical exploitation, mental exhaustion, lack of certainty and support. All of them mixed with emotions of fear and hopes for the best. It is an explosive cocktail!
It is not my intention to scare you at the beginning. These are real stories. Some were fun with unexpected twists and happy endings, and some were sad, tragic. Some of the stories here are only to reflect on particular events. Some are warnings, because for many immigrants similar stories are still real and ongoing. My intention is to raise awareness of modern slavery forced labour of non-trafficked individuals that is still real, here and now. My intention is to “break the silence” of shameful exploitation that happens in developed countries, not in the “third world”.
Nevertheless, those stories are based on real events, names are changed for obvious reasons and any similarities are only random, not intentional. In real life, anything can happen with or without any warnings. Same here, expect the unexpected or do not expect anything and just enjoy reading.
This book is also about personal transformation.
Here is a collection of real stories that changed ME! I am sharing with you my personal path at the beginning of my personal transformation. It was a difficult way, packed with bumps, ups and downs, surprises, and some really unpleasant events. Many would say: “What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger.” Sounds great, but we are not here in this life to suffer, struggle and fight for the joyful life we all deserve. In my personal, humble opinion we are here to create our meaningful, happy life.
You might agree, you might not. It’s an individual approach and I entirely respect that. Although sometimes we need someone to tell us to slow down, to step back, look at the bigger picture and reflect on our situation, asking: “What else can I do here? How can I make things different to get better results, to improve my life and be happy?”
Here I am sharing with you my real experience, thoughts, emotions, and tools that helped me to get through personal transformation. At the end of each chapter you will find a section called ‘Your Daily Exercises’. This is where you find tools and instructions helping you to practice positive thinking, positive affirmations, visualisations and assertive skills. There are also exercises for breathing and calming techniques invented by other practitioners, and introductions to mindfulness and meditation exercises.
The full collection of tools with instructions you will find in the last part of this book – Your Daily Exercises. I can quickly and honestly answer three questions: “Was it easy?” NO! “Did it happen overnight?” NO! “Was it worth it?” YES! YES! YES!
In this book, I am taking you on an “everything is possible” journey, all this to improve your life. First accept that Perfection does not exist! But you can try to do good or better next time. Second, you are not failure, you are learner. Third, stop comparing yourself to anybody else. It’s your life, not others. Fourth, drop the guilt and “I should” monkeys. There is nothing selfish in caring about yourself, your needs, your emotions, your wellbeing. Finally, accept yourself for who you are, you are imperfectly perfect, you are enough, you are worthy.
My goal is to encourage you to start thinking positively about yourself, to love yourself infinitely, and to see your life in a different light. To be curious, to seek other options and be open to opportunities for a happier life! Yes! To change “impossible” into POSSIBLE!
Of course, I cannot promise anything, neither changes nor miracles. It is entirely up to you if you want that change. But I hope that this book will give you “food for thought”.
So, take your time, check out the tools described here. Give them a try and gain new perspective regarding Yourself and Your life.
Most importantly, have fun and enjoy the journey!



Disclaimer

This book is a memoir. It reflects the author’s present recollections of experiences over time. Some names and characters have been changed, some events have been compressed, and some
dialogue has been recreated.



CHAPTER 1

THE BROKEN HEART GOES TO THE GREEN ISLAND

What is the connection? My heart was broken into so many pieces by a long-term so called “partner” that even a hoover would struggle to collect all of them. The “individual” was unable to cut off his mummy who hated me deeply. I fought for six years, but I had to give up and let her keep her boy. Maybe, if I were wealthy and from a prestigious family, she would let go of her passive aggression and possessiveness. But no, I was not good enough for her boy. Full stop.
Consequently, his love declarations were shallow and faded with time. To the extent of having an affair with a friend of our friend. It was devastating, humiliating and crossed all boundaries. My broken heart couldn’t take any more. Whose heart would? We give so much of our life, energy, emotions, empathy, engagement, attention to so many people. Many of them do not even deserve to be looked at. This is a topic for a separate chapter.
Anyway, my broken heart and relationship were not enough! If something is going badly in one department of my life, you can bet all the crap will be set loose simultaneously in other departments too.
On top of that, the company I was working for also disappeared into thin air. Literally! One day I was working in a big office and dealt with four bosses. Next day, the bosses moved back to the other side of the country and stopped taking my calls. I was running the whole business without them until the money stopped coming in. Including my wages!
Has anyone tried to make a living without money? Yeah, of course! Has anyone tried for five months? Oh, not so many! One would say: “Go and get another job!” Yes, of course, it crossed my mind, believe me! However, not at the time in my country, and for many other reasons. I was still a contracted employee even without a boss around. Nightmare! Only jobs on the “black market” were available, cash in hand, no insurance, no guaranteed hours. Fair enough, I did some odd jobs out of desperation; I can do all DIY jobs, home or office make over. Anything but electricity!
Then, a call from a friend of our family came. An absolutely random call, as we were not so close. He was always somewhere abroad.
“Hello! It’s me, Frank!” said the voice I knew.
“Hello, Frank! Long-time no hear from you? Where are you now? States? Canada? Australia?” I tried to guess his location. He travelled a lot.
“Oh, no, not that far. I am in the Republic of Ireland,” Frank said.
“Fantastic! What are you doing there? Are you with your family?” I was curious, but I knew that he preferred to travel on his own.
“No, just me and some friends. I work in a local company. It is a small village, peace, quiet, good money,” Frank explained.
“WOW! This is what I am looking for now. I am serious!” I said it calmly but inside I was screaming: “Get me out of here, now, please!” I was holding my breath and pushed the shout inside.
“Well, I can check a few places here for you. Would you like to come here for long?” Frank asked.
“Would I like to come? I am already packing my ‘crap’ in my head. I am already at the airport!” I was well ahead of myself.
“I can do many things, you know.” I said this as calmly as possible, despite the massive urge to scream and jump like a happy four year old.
“Let me see what is available. I will keep you posted. How are things at your end?” Frank asked.
“Well, so many things happened and changed that it will take me a month to tell you about it. Maybe next time when we have a chance to talk face to face?” I was still visualising my trip to ROI in my head.
“Other than that, we are all alive,” I summarised because I was unable to put a single sentence together. My mind was drifting far away, on its way to ROI.
My mother took the receiver and continued a friendly chat with Frank.
“WOW, what’s just happened? Is it real? Have I been rescued from the misery of unfortunate events? Believe it or not? What if I can’t cope with long distance, language, culture, work?” My thoughts were galloping through my mind.
All possible “what if…” came out within next seconds right after a euphoric vision of me going abroad. THE FEAR! Fear of the unknown.
The next questions came soon after fear. What if it is my chance for a better life, for a future, for love? What holds me here? What else can I do? What choices do I have?
“#FIA – f$%^ it all – I am going, if not to ROI and Frank I will go wherever.” I finally convinced myself.
For the next few weeks, I was tiptoeing around the idea.
Managing and arranging many things almost at the same time. I bought a return ticket to Dublin, but the return date had a bit of a twist, a leap of faith I guess. Honestly, I should have played the lottery back then. Damn!

The Grand day came faster than I expected. I never felt so ready and eager in my life with itchy feet to go anywhere.
Vroom! I am on my way to the airport in Berlin, connecting flight to London Heathrow and from there to Dublin.
The first flight was fine, I landed smoothly at London Heathrow at the gate 11. My connecting flight to Dublin was taking off in 2 hours at the gate 89. “Easy peasy Japanese. I will have enough time to stop at the smoking room,” I thought. At the time, smoking was allowed in all social spaces and had the designated areas for it.
Have you ever been to London Heathrow Airport? Well, let me tell you, it is enormous! I was walking with my big suitcase and hand luggage, sweating like a Sumo contestant for an hour to find out that I have just reached gate… 30! And no sign of a smoking area!
What was more, I was walking next to those moving paths where people were swiftly, effortlessly moving forward. “Phi! Are you all so lazy to walk? A bit of exercise keeps you fit, it doesn’t kill you,” I thought, but I was so wrong like never ever in my life.
Then it came to me. “If I am not going to jump on those moving paths, I am not going to get to gate 89 on time.” I was convincing myself. Not to mention a quick stop for a puff. “Oh hell NO, I am not going to miss either of those.”
So, I joined the “lazy people” and in a few minutes I reached gates 60 to 70 where smoking areas were assigned. In five big puffs, I “swallowed” the cigarette and jumped again on the moving paths.
It took me one hour and forty-five minutes after my first landing to reach gate 89. The boarding for Dublin began just as I arrived. “Ooohhh, I was so close to missing it.” I felt relieved and tired, like a horse after the Grand National.
As I relaxed during the relatively short flight, I forgot about instructions given by Frank, which went as follows:
“On arrival in Dublin you will have to fill a residential card with all your and my details. Write down all my details, the address, name of my workplace, contact details. Remember! You are a visitor, only a visitor!” Frank yelled over the phone the day before my flight.
On arrival, I followed other passengers into the emigration posts and joined the queue without even thinking about Frank’s instructions. Then some “tickling” came at the back of my mind that I was missing something here. “What is it?” I looked at a passenger who was talking to the emigration officer and he was passing some papers. “Damn, the residential card, &^&%%^.” I said to myself as I recalled Frank’s instructions.
I stepped out of the queue and went around the hall to look for the card. I found the card, filled it in and joined another queue like nothing happened.
Only inside, I was shaking like a leaf and swearing but kept myself composed because… the upcoming conversation was in the English language!
FYI – I hadn’t spoken English for fourteen years before I arrived in Dublin! Not a single word! NONE! You know that phrase, “If you do not use it, you lose it!” Mhm, that was me at that very moment! My English was stiff and rusty, like the hinge of an old gate. “It is what it is, kind of a test. Let’s see what you can do.” I encouraged myself, still shaking inside.
Even today, I am not quite sure what happened there, but English words were flowing from my mouth, and all went like this:
“Hello, may I have your travelling documents?” asked the emigration officer.
“Hello. Yes, of course.” I passed my passport and the residential card.
“What is your reason for coming to Dublin today?” the officer continued.
“I came to visit family,” I said with full confidence in my voice.
“Where does your family live?” The officer threw another routine question.
“All details are on this card.” I pointed to the residential card and smiled.
“Good, and how long are you going to stay?” the officer continued.
“Just for a few weeks,” I answered softly, still smiling.
“Do you have a return ticket?” the officer asked another routine question.
“Yes, of course.” I passed my return ticket to him, knowing exactly what would happen next and mentally preparing myself for the worst-case scenario. My heart almost stopped.
“Your return ticket is in three months,” the officer said. He had a puzzled expression on his face.
“Oh, no! It’s impossible!” I yelled with disbelief in my voice and a matching shocked expression on my face.
“It is possible. Look at that.” The officer showed me my return ticket. He was still cool and curiously checking my reactions. I bet it was part of his training and he got a lot of it on a daily basis.
“Do you really think that I don’t know that? I have bought it; I’ve paid for it.” This was running through my head.

“Look, I really don’t understand that. I specifically said four weeks! Gosh, what am I going to do now?” I was in full flow. Damn, I deserved an Oscar nomination for acting as dumb as a wooden log. My disbelief and astonished surprise was pushed out by fear. All together; my face, voice, body and soul were screaming: “Are you fricking kidding me? I have a wrong return date? No way!”
“I can’t stay here this long! I have a business to run and family to look after.” I was talking like a machine. I still don’t know where all these words came from. I hadn’t spoken English for so long that I shouldn’t say anything beyond, “Hello, my name is…”
“OK, I understand. Don’t worry, I think there is a way to fix it. You can get to the airlines agent and rebook it for the right time. They have an office here at the airport,” the officer said calmly. He sounded like he was genuinely concerned
about me.
One more note here, at that time, there were no cheap, chartered airlines. Actually, all the airlines at the time had high standards and for obvious reasons (they do not pay me for advertising) I am not going to state the name of that airline.
“Alright, alright, you are right, but I need to get on the other side. Right?” I was almost holding my breath and freaking out inside. I finally shut up!
“Well, yes… so I will give you a four-week tourist visa and you can go to the airline agent here and reschedule your ticket.” The officer said it slowly, like he was making sure that I understood every word. He grabbed the stamp, pressed it into my passport, wrote all dates and passed all the paperwork back to me.
I was standing still with my jaw dropped, still speechless. Just frozen! “Is he really giving this to me?”
“Hey, you can go now,” the officer said and pointed to the exit door. “Go change your ticket and enjoy Ireland,” he said with a smile.
“Thank you,” I whispered. At the same time, I was screaming inside: “I am free, I did it, I am in.”
“You’re welcome!” The officer was still smiling.
“Thank you!” His “welcome” unfroze my mind and my feet were almost flying, moving toward the exit door.
Frank was waiting at the arrival door, a bit nervous because he didn’t know why it was taking so long. I was not aware of the time at all.
“Sweet Pye! It was a miracle!” I exclaimed the moment I saw him. “Damn right, miracle.” I was still euphoric, pumped with a high level of adrenaline.
“Let’s go. I need to pay for parking. We have over an hour to drive,” Frank said with energy.
While we were walking to his car, I told him what happened back at the emigration check point. Frank laughed and looked at me with disbelief.
“What did you say?” he laughed.
I repeated word for word. I still couldn’t believe that I did it. “Should I think about a career in show business?”
Frank pointed to his car, and I automatically walked up to the right side of the car to get to the passenger seat. Frank stopped walking because he was laughing at me so hard, watching me getting into the car on the driver side.
“Are you going to drive now?” Frank asked still choking on his laugh.
“What?” I was puzzled. I was still in my “high mood” over my great performance on arrival. I was over the moon that I didn’t notice the steering wheel on the right side. It is the opposite side to the continental cars.
“Look!” Frank pointed to the steering wheel while packing my bags into the boot.