Sebastian
Well-known member
I believe it’s time to talk about my story as well. I don’t know where I will start, nor untill where I will go, like I don’t know if I will complete or post this message. But I will give it a shot.
I have always been different from the others, when I was young I wasn’t weird, but I was very different. I am originally from a country in Eastern Europe where the cult of the “cool” is at its highest. People, and especially kids, were spending a lot of time and energy to show off, to put down other people and to try to seem as cool as possible. That’s where I was born and lived untill the age of ten. I was different because I did not curse, try to make fun of the others, try to seem as cool as possible or be mean. I was always trying to be friendly, to help those who needed help and to have harmonious relationships with those around me. Alas, my peers did not appreciate this and from the beginning I became the target of many jokes, laughter and bad words. I believe that the deepest roots of my condition lie in this particular stage of my life, whereas the rest of it built its core on these fundations. Such an affirmation comes after peculiar analysis where I discovered with a lot of effort and with a lot of time that my unconscious is always alert and ready to be the target of denigration. In simple words, on a very sublime and unconscious level, I prepare(-ed) myself to be mocked by those around me.
Being made fun of while I had the best intentions did make me very sad, untill one day when I simply decided to stay home instead of going outside and swim in the sea of hypocrisy around me. That was around the age of 10, after years of psychological abuse received by a child who was more sensitive than the average.
The divorce of my parents didn’t improve things. One day I was woken up by my mother and told that we had to leave. That was when I was aroud 5, it was a sunny Sunday and that was the day the sky fell on me. Following that, I was thrown into an ocean of uncertainities and insecurity in which I drowned many times and where only the fact that I survived by breathing, eating, drinking and being able to hide the earthquakes going on inside me (actually, this was a lesson I learned when I was very young. The more you show vulnerability, the more you’re likely to be picked on. Try to hide as much as possible and you stand a chance. The dog pack theory).
Divorce usually means when two married people decide to break their marriage contract. For me, it meant moving very often, being secluded inside for days, weeks and months in order to avoid being kidnapped by my father, going through attempts to be kidnapped and cutting the few social ties I had with my peers, which were replaced by the company of my grandmother who was scared of many things and who did not let me even run in order to not sweat and catch a cold and the presence of my mentally sick aunt.
Sure, the political instability in my country did not help either. As a matter of fact, after a bloody revolution when the Communist party was thrown off and after waiting for a year to notice that 6000 people died almost in vain since the new party was made of mostly of the old regime’s men, my family decided to leave for the West. We headed for the Southern part of Italy where, surprize-surpize, the cult of the “cool” was even more present. Needless to say that to more mocking other interesting factors were added. Due to the financial and social status, my mother decided to get together with a man from our original country. Unluckly for us, with the exception of a brilliant mind and some lessons that made me a man (such as being strong, not show feelings, sports, etc.), this man was also very abusive with my brother and I, both physically and especially mentally. It was later on that we found out that he had some mental problems as well, in addition to being mean and selfish, and that he needed a way to let off steam. My brother was the unluckiest one since he is also weaker than me, therefore he received most of the punishement. Nevertheless, I was also constantly ready to be teased, hit, laughed at in addition to the neverending parody about my worthlessness. This was probably the second step towards my psychological situation that was slowly being built, both from the inside as well as from the outside.
At school, I was made fun of (no news here, it was as if I was attracting such behavior from others and later on I felt as if I deserved it) and was feeling pretty bad. I was in a foreign country, I had an accent, I was different, my family did not have a status (read any social or economical benefits) and I felt very weak. It was a feeling of total havoc, I was a body with a 5 milimeters in diameter soul ready to be torn by the outside world. I used to feel like that in my original country also, but this was even worse. Luckly, in addition to the bad elements, there was also some very good ones which made my life a little easier. As a matter of fact, at the end of my stay in Italy things improved for me and, despite the constant tension in my house, I went through an optimistic stage being influenced by the mid 90’s dance music, my body’s changes (when I was young I was a chubby child. That was one of the things that most kids used to mock me on.), starting to exercise and the dream that coming to Canada my life would change drastically. Such an optimistic stage was interrupted by my mother’s depression. Insecurity took her toll on her as well and she fell into a depressive and unstable mood that left her weak even after recovering miraculously. During this stage she hit and screamed at me and for the first time in my life I was betrayed by the only person that I really trusted and that has always supported me.
The relationship with my mother deserves to be explained a little. I think that in my unfortunate life I was blessed with a wonderful mother who cared about her sons more than herself and who was always ready to sacrifice herself for us. Unluckly, her kindness has attracted mostly bad people around her. In all her immaculacy, she did make one huge mistake regarding me. Since a tender age, the most common sentences that I remember was “I hope you will grow tall and strong.”, “I hope you will be at least 1.80 meters tall (5’11)”. Such sentences were repeated almost in an obsessive manner. Needless to say, I did not grow tall and strong. I stopped at 1.75 meters (5’9). Now, due to my sensitive nature, trust in my mother and since such indoctrination with this ideal started from an early age, it soon became part of my paradigm, part of what a person should be in order to be a person. But, the fact that I did not reach that ideal threw myself in a vortex of depression with a constant feeling of insufficiency. As a matter of fact, I did not feel like a person, like a human being. I felt I was less and felt that I would never become one. The sad part is that I had no control over that, over my genetics.
….I have to break this here, for the moment. I will continue another time.
I have always been different from the others, when I was young I wasn’t weird, but I was very different. I am originally from a country in Eastern Europe where the cult of the “cool” is at its highest. People, and especially kids, were spending a lot of time and energy to show off, to put down other people and to try to seem as cool as possible. That’s where I was born and lived untill the age of ten. I was different because I did not curse, try to make fun of the others, try to seem as cool as possible or be mean. I was always trying to be friendly, to help those who needed help and to have harmonious relationships with those around me. Alas, my peers did not appreciate this and from the beginning I became the target of many jokes, laughter and bad words. I believe that the deepest roots of my condition lie in this particular stage of my life, whereas the rest of it built its core on these fundations. Such an affirmation comes after peculiar analysis where I discovered with a lot of effort and with a lot of time that my unconscious is always alert and ready to be the target of denigration. In simple words, on a very sublime and unconscious level, I prepare(-ed) myself to be mocked by those around me.
Being made fun of while I had the best intentions did make me very sad, untill one day when I simply decided to stay home instead of going outside and swim in the sea of hypocrisy around me. That was around the age of 10, after years of psychological abuse received by a child who was more sensitive than the average.
The divorce of my parents didn’t improve things. One day I was woken up by my mother and told that we had to leave. That was when I was aroud 5, it was a sunny Sunday and that was the day the sky fell on me. Following that, I was thrown into an ocean of uncertainities and insecurity in which I drowned many times and where only the fact that I survived by breathing, eating, drinking and being able to hide the earthquakes going on inside me (actually, this was a lesson I learned when I was very young. The more you show vulnerability, the more you’re likely to be picked on. Try to hide as much as possible and you stand a chance. The dog pack theory).
Divorce usually means when two married people decide to break their marriage contract. For me, it meant moving very often, being secluded inside for days, weeks and months in order to avoid being kidnapped by my father, going through attempts to be kidnapped and cutting the few social ties I had with my peers, which were replaced by the company of my grandmother who was scared of many things and who did not let me even run in order to not sweat and catch a cold and the presence of my mentally sick aunt.
Sure, the political instability in my country did not help either. As a matter of fact, after a bloody revolution when the Communist party was thrown off and after waiting for a year to notice that 6000 people died almost in vain since the new party was made of mostly of the old regime’s men, my family decided to leave for the West. We headed for the Southern part of Italy where, surprize-surpize, the cult of the “cool” was even more present. Needless to say that to more mocking other interesting factors were added. Due to the financial and social status, my mother decided to get together with a man from our original country. Unluckly for us, with the exception of a brilliant mind and some lessons that made me a man (such as being strong, not show feelings, sports, etc.), this man was also very abusive with my brother and I, both physically and especially mentally. It was later on that we found out that he had some mental problems as well, in addition to being mean and selfish, and that he needed a way to let off steam. My brother was the unluckiest one since he is also weaker than me, therefore he received most of the punishement. Nevertheless, I was also constantly ready to be teased, hit, laughed at in addition to the neverending parody about my worthlessness. This was probably the second step towards my psychological situation that was slowly being built, both from the inside as well as from the outside.
At school, I was made fun of (no news here, it was as if I was attracting such behavior from others and later on I felt as if I deserved it) and was feeling pretty bad. I was in a foreign country, I had an accent, I was different, my family did not have a status (read any social or economical benefits) and I felt very weak. It was a feeling of total havoc, I was a body with a 5 milimeters in diameter soul ready to be torn by the outside world. I used to feel like that in my original country also, but this was even worse. Luckly, in addition to the bad elements, there was also some very good ones which made my life a little easier. As a matter of fact, at the end of my stay in Italy things improved for me and, despite the constant tension in my house, I went through an optimistic stage being influenced by the mid 90’s dance music, my body’s changes (when I was young I was a chubby child. That was one of the things that most kids used to mock me on.), starting to exercise and the dream that coming to Canada my life would change drastically. Such an optimistic stage was interrupted by my mother’s depression. Insecurity took her toll on her as well and she fell into a depressive and unstable mood that left her weak even after recovering miraculously. During this stage she hit and screamed at me and for the first time in my life I was betrayed by the only person that I really trusted and that has always supported me.
The relationship with my mother deserves to be explained a little. I think that in my unfortunate life I was blessed with a wonderful mother who cared about her sons more than herself and who was always ready to sacrifice herself for us. Unluckly, her kindness has attracted mostly bad people around her. In all her immaculacy, she did make one huge mistake regarding me. Since a tender age, the most common sentences that I remember was “I hope you will grow tall and strong.”, “I hope you will be at least 1.80 meters tall (5’11)”. Such sentences were repeated almost in an obsessive manner. Needless to say, I did not grow tall and strong. I stopped at 1.75 meters (5’9). Now, due to my sensitive nature, trust in my mother and since such indoctrination with this ideal started from an early age, it soon became part of my paradigm, part of what a person should be in order to be a person. But, the fact that I did not reach that ideal threw myself in a vortex of depression with a constant feeling of insufficiency. As a matter of fact, I did not feel like a person, like a human being. I felt I was less and felt that I would never become one. The sad part is that I had no control over that, over my genetics.
….I have to break this here, for the moment. I will continue another time.
Last edited:
