I was feeling a bit better this morning despite my uncontrollable anxiety. I took all my prescribed drugs at once without going over my daily allowance.
It had a little effect on the anxiety but something nonetheless. Overall I moving in the right direction until I received a letter from my lawyer.
The legal proceeding against my family isn’t going well at all. They are robbing me by roughly two-thirds of what they owe. They are gambling that I won’t go through a lawsuit which cost a fortune and will last for years. So we are trying to settle it outside the court for economic reasons and to speed up the process.
I have just received the estimated amount of the real estate value which lost two third of its value in five years. My lawyer too feels that the price mentioned is too low.
It is infuriating me and affecting the last strong family values that I have. The family members that I am facing now, know about my illness, my needs our family situation and they are taking full advantage of it. We are very close in term of family ties; there is my aunt who is also my Godmother and my two first cousins. They don’t care and know that they can do anything they please as all of it takes place in their backyard. It’s in their small town where the Illoc have been living forever. They know everybody and I can bet my bottom dollar that they know the official appraiser who is helping them robbing me.
There are no more family values or ties when money comes into play. The BIG Italien myth of families collapsed.
I remember, vividly my grandfather lecturing me in my late teens about keeping the family name clean, hold its value high because, in the end, it’s all we’ve got. I promised him and I will live by these values which he stood for. My father used to tell me “you’re just like my father” almost as an insult. Both of them didn’t get along at all on everything. The amount of drama that was going on was coming out of a “b” movie. I had and still have tremendous respect for my grandfather as a man and the Head of a family. He was the head of the resistance against the Nazi in our region. He was a man of a few words. What was impressive to me was when we use to go to a bar (he took me everywhere) people stopped talking and only resumed when he said hello! For me, this was coolest. He took me out of jams that I’d put myself into it by riding my bike too fast and so on, he used to go to the Police and settle everything, but it doesn’t mean that I didn’t get the scoldings of my life afterward.
In those days in Italy, you had a tremendous rivalry in between The communist (red flag) and the other right-wing party mainly under the wing or the Catholic Church. In public the priest and my grandfather used to fight like cat and dog, I remember my grandfather saying “anybody who doesn’t vote communist won’t be allowed in my house”, that wasn’t the case anyway. He had no clue about communism as he was living like a capitalist but associated the red flag with the resistance which was no longer the case and the cause. Besides, the Italien communist party wasn’t in sync with the Soviet Union for many years due to divergence with their own doctrine. My aunt explained to me that whenever my grandfather used to buy a truck or a massive Caterpillar (he owned an excavation firm), he went to ask the priest to come at night and bless the machine which the priest did happily.
Isn’t it hysterical!
Peace and serenity