Rainbow Pie

I don’t want to scold myself anymore

I don’t want to bully myself anymore, like my parents and teachers once did to me

My chemistry teacher made me copy “Thank you, teacher” 100 times.

The class teacher insulted me for half an hour in front of the class, saying I was not a good citizen, not a good son, not a good student. He said I should not say that he is my teacher when I go out in society,he can’t afford to lose face.

My mother was furious that I was going on a trip, thinking I was wasting her money and that was for my university not for travel. She didn’t ask if I was staying at a hotel or a free house, if I was eating at a Michelin restaurant or McDonald’s, if I was having fun or losing interest.

My father saw me playing with the dog, angrily scolded me for being careless, questioning whether I know that this is easy to hurt, and very costly, there is such money to raise pets rather than …

To keep my parents from hitting me, when I was six years old, I took a coat hanger and hit myself, crying and saying I knew I was wrong. Because I knew that if they hit me, they would hit me harder than I would hit myself.

One time my parents domestic abused each other so badly that they called the police to mediate. I just hid in my room and cried alone under the covers. Through the door I could clearly hear the sounds of their fights, their yelling, the sound of breaking glass bottles, and the tiresome phrase “all is well in the family”. No one was punished by the law.

My mom said she would pay for my computer and counseling, which she didn’t (after several months, she did). My mom said that I don’t have to worry about money anymore.

My father cursed my mother as a vicious, selfish woman, just as my grandfather cursed my grandmother, whom he had been unlucky to meet all his life. My father said he would pay for my college education if I broke off my relationship with my mother. Now he has disappeared from my world.

My language teacher was mad at me and cried, saying I was ungrateful. My English teacher and math teacher chimed in that yes, this student was ungrateful. When my father scolded me, he often said I was ungrateful and ungrateful and ungrateful.

I don’t thank God for being alive today, I thank myself, I thank the liberal democracy of the European Union, the Italian national health system, the friends who spent my birthday with me. And then there’s my mother who keeps giving me money, even though communicating with her is a big nightmare for me.

I tell myself that feeling shame is part of the symptom. I understand that unstable self-esteem, toxic shame, flashbacks, nightmares, body stiffness, insecurity… I can’t address all the symptoms at once, but I can focus on one part to work on. I think it’s shame. I can feel unworthy of love because I farted in public, or decided to cut off a friend…did I do something wrong for my relationship with her to become toxic? Why didn’t I see the signs of toxicity sooner so I wouldn’t have to make a decision until today when the damage has already been done… I cringe at my inability to maintain friendships and all the lonely moments I experience remind me that I am unworthy of love. Yet I don’t want to feel that way anymore.