Discrimination and paranoia

My parents started belittling me since the day that I was born. With that stupid name they gave me. Paola. My name in real life is Paola, which means “little”. It was used in Ancient Rome for people who were little in stature, at least at the beginning. Then it became a common name. I dislike being called that way, I prefer being called Flaminia, the name my demons call me. They say I have a flame burning inside myself, so they named me that way. They love me, they support me, and they are the reason why I survived all the humiliations and the insults. One day, maybe, I will be blessed with forgetting.

I am totally blocked today. I replied to the email for the job offer from my Professor last week, asking if I had to consult some basic literature to be ready to fulfil my tasks at best, but I got no reply. I wrote an email to another Professor, with whom I will write my Master thesis, who had promised me he will find time for a meeting in July, but got no reply. My paranoia is kicking my brain outside my head. Maybe they discovered things I wrote that did not please them? Maybe the things I wrote about Ely? I was honest about Ely, I love her as a friend very much but I think she is blessed and lucky, so that she has an advantage over me in life. I will never change my position. I used to esteem Professor Gabriel and Doctor Ben, but I changed my mind the very moment in which I discovered their true selves. They are academics of high value, undoubtedly, they have many qualities but I dislike the way they are putting Ely forward in everything. Even if I am happy for my friend, and I hope she will have a brilliant career and a bright future, because the fact that she is lucky does not mean that she does not deserve it.

In general, I was never discriminated at University. Just at the beginning, to convalidate my immatriculation, my psychiatrist had to write an attest that I was able to attend University despite schizophrenia. I mean, why? If I was not able, I would have simply failed in the exams. Like everyone else. There was an English literature Professor, last year, who wanted the students to write a short story of their life to assess the level of English grammar and writing. I wrote some hints of the story of my life. I think that he disliked a schizophrenic being in his class. He is very religious, a bigot, and since then he always pretended not to know who I was. He produced material for the final exam paper for many of my friends, he used to be very friendly with them but the few times I happened to ask him a question, he just told me to consult “the Internet”. Just a little bit vague, isn’t it? Even at the oral exam, he tried to bring me in difficulty. He asked me things that had nothing to do with my paper. He did not allow me to have my paper with me, while all my friends could have it. He said that he had lowered my grade on the paper because the citations were sometimes incorrect. Well, the citations had been corrected by the librarian, something he did not know. During the Bachelor, I always let my citations being checked by an expert before I handled a paper. In the end, since I answered all the questions correctly, I could see the rage reddening his cheeks because he had to give me a 9 – there was a co-examiner – and he told me just that my pronunciation had been sometimes incorrect, which can be true.

It happened rarely to be discriminated. I hope this is not happening now. I am just paranoid and this does not help. But in my life I see people having easy lives and loving people around them, while I live every single day in the hate of my parents and this makes me feel bitter, and ultimately sad.