Hello to you all. Its been a long time since I've been on here, so I hope you are all ok.
I have spent the past 3 months in Amsterdam, working as a Nanny. Thoughts of sadness wash over me as I realise what I have left behind, but the story I am about to relate to you gives me good reason to be back in a country I detest.
In my last post, you read how I got a Nanny job in Amsterdam, a city which I love. Stepping onto the plane leaving the UK was hard, and I had mixed emotions leaving my friends and family behind, but getting there filled me with excitement.
The family seemed pretty normal or first impressions, however, I should have realised that wasn't to be considering before I even had a chance to unpack my belongings and get my bearings, I was helping to cook the families dinner.....I thought this was weird, as surely they would want me to settle for a day or so, but maybe this was normal here.
So anyway, cutting a long story short, I discovered after a few weeks of being there, the mother I was working for suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, something she had never had treated as she deemed it too low on her list of priorities. The next 3 months were hell, everything had to be perfect, books in alphabetical order, no kids toys lying around, ironing perfect, its was a solid day from 7am - 9pm, one day they had me working from 7am - 1am and the audacity to ask why I was so tired the next day.
The week before I left I was at an all time low, I thought I was never going to get out of it, as my body was not wanting to do anymore, the times I almost collapsed from exhaustion were numerous, the mother getting pissed off as I physically could not move anymore. She kept saying' its an easy job, this'll be the easiest thing you ever do' blah blah blah. I even considered ending it all, as I though that I would just be looked at as a failure if I came back to the UK. My friends were in dispair, they could see what it done to me. I knew that if I stayed, I would be going on a road to hell, probably taking strong drugs to keep me going through the day and downers in the evening to make me sleep. I could see it, my friends could see it, but I didnt want to give up.
The week after (last Wed actually), I woke up from a nightmare, a trip to America with the family was looming, 4 weeks of no days off and lying on air beds (as this is what I was told would be happening in real life), I dreamt I was their prisoner, being tortured and made to work all the hours I could. I was violently sick, and I heard a knock at the door a voice full of sarcasm saying 'oh, you are up then'. I was five minutes late.
Once I had got the little girl ready for school, the mother started to make me carry extremely heavy boxes weighing about 3 stone each down the stairs back into their newly renovated living room, in all I carried about 20 of the things, back killing me, she then demanded I tidy out the little girls toy cupboards, 6 in all, packed to the brim with toys and games, it took me 2 hours. I was ready to drop when she demanded I make her lunch.
I realised at this point, that living my dream required another approach, that I would have to come home and start again, I text my friend to ring the house and say that a member of my family was really ill, I would give a sob story, and fly home that day. It worked, but I never would have guessed how callous this woman would have been.
Yesterday, I got a call from her basically sacking me from employment as she was looking for replacements for me, and that my responsibility should have been with her family and not my own, and that I was obviously an uncaring person. I was so angry, and my friends would not have belieived she said that if I hadn't put the phone on loud speaker.
The only person I feel sorry for right now is the little girl I left behind, who keeps asking for me, whom I got really fond of, and if I could take her away from a really horrible family I would, but then, I have to realise, we have to have licences for animals, but anyone can have a child...........
Today, I am exhausted still, I worked out on average I worked 80-90 hours per week when I was there, I have lost over a stone in weight, and I feel extremely low, I have left a city behind I love, but the only thing that keeps me going is I know that there is going to be a family in Holland that will appreciate me for all that I do for them one day.....
