I am at University right now. I had a presentation, and I think it went quite well. I performed with Ely and Axl, two of my best friends. it is always a pleasure to work with them, since they put great enthusiasm in everything they do. This is my recipe to go on: Enthusiasm. My mother always makes me feel small and useless, but I am enthusiastic without borders, and sometimes the more she criticises me and belittles me, the more I go on and fight for a better future. The more she puts me down, the more I spend time on my books, on my notes, on my papers – they are like a pleasant distraction from an unpleasant situation, moreover a useful distraction.
I am sitting right now on the same place where I had my coming out. I decided, after three years in this University, to come out to my friends. I did not want to lie to them anymore. They deserve the truth since they are different from all the people I have ever known before. It happened by chance, though. A classmate said that she was going married to a woman. She was discussing with a gay friend about step-child adoption, marriage, partership registration for gay and lesbians, and as those topics got discussed I decided to tell the truth. It was ok for everybody.
There will be a gay pride in June in the town where I live. I would like to take part in it. My two gay classmates go, and they would like me to go with them. I will have to find a very reasonable excuse not to be at home on that day. My parents are very conservative, they are Christian Catholics but not really Christians, since the message of Christ was not to „love your neighbour“ with words and appearance but to do it with your actions and with good deeds. My parents allegedly love their neighbour but actually hate everything and everybody that is „different“: foreigners, refugees, homosexuals, transexuals, women engaged in politics, handicapped people (the last category is not really „hated“, rather despised). The list could go on. I do not think that a real Christian has a heart poisoned with hate such as the heart of my mother. My mother is, nevertheless, a heavy moralist: she does not miss to tell me on a regular basis that I will regret my faults and sins when it will be too late for me to be forgiven. I stopped fearing those threats, I know that I am a sinner but I do not think to be that worse than the average human being to deserve everlasting punishment and suffering after my death.
Anyway, I am thankful. I am thankful for the person I have become, I am happy because my schizophrenia does not keep from from studying and living my life anymore. I am thankful because I am privileged in so many ways. I am thankful for my enthusiasm and I want to take a little pride in my world and in the way I live my life. I want to be proud of myself, no matter what others think. That seems a banality to say, but it is not. It is not possible to please everybody, there will always be someone who dislikes us. If that someone has to be my mother, well, ok.