Britain is now in panic mode, held hostage by a foolish plan gone really really bad.

Theresa May has been cornered by her own party, which is plotting to get rid of her. She is mocked by the opposition and laughed at by the EU.

The only option left open to her is to try to win the hearts, or perhaps the underbellies, of voters, by finding an uncomplicated and easy-to-repeat narrative to justify her version of Brexit. The problem is that panic and politics aren’t a good mix.

Populist promises such as the one she made this morning to stop EU migrants “jumping the queue” spread resentment towards European citizens like me. Not only did we play no part in this mess, but we work here legally and contribute to the country in many different ways. We did not “jump the queue” but exercised the same general right of freedom of movement that allows British people to work in Berlin and Paris, or retire in Spain. Even so, our reward seems to be an increasingly hostile atmosphere, and infinite red tape when we attempt to apply for permanent residency to set our minds at rest.

I was born and grew up in Sicily and moved to London in 1996 shortly after I turned 20 years old.

I’ve put down roots here, made friends and created a wonderful family. Since I started working as a photographer I’ve paid my taxes and national insurance contributions and jumped no queues whatsoever. No, I’ve earned the benefits I enjoy – a happy and constructive existence in London – through sheer hard work.

If the worst comes to the worst, I can go back to Italy. British-born people, on the other hand, have no plan B.

Since the referendum in 2016 I have noticed an alarming increase in both veiled and more explicit verbal abuse based on my nationality and my Mediterranean appearance. Living life in the face of this stigma is not always easy, but I have enough resources to stand my ground, and thanks to the broad support I receive from friends and colleagues I have the luxury of brushing nasty comments off with irony and a lot of sarcasm. However, this rise in anti-European feeling needs to be addressed and stopped, because it will end in people getting hurt.

The dog-whistling May did this morning achieves the exact opposite. It will give permission to any members of the general public who feel that we European citizens are not welcome here to bully, hassle us, or worse.

I believe that in the years ahead, as Brexit is exposed as a false solution and times become hard, there will need to be a scapegoat, someone to point at. May is laying the ground for that someone to be an innocent European national living in the UK.

I confess that I am shocked by the lack of a strong political counter-narrative to this xenophobia, with the exception of London’s mayor, Sadiq Khan, who has been active in stressing the importance of EU nationals living in his city, and explaining how strength and growth is founded on pluralism.

Finally I find it strange that we are viewed with condescension even by the most liberal minds in this country. I’m often told: “Ah, you’ll be alright, you’ve been here for many years.” Many British people assume that as an Italian living in the UK I am only concerned about my future here. That is a worry, I suppose. But I have a broader perspective – I am worried for Britain as a whole.

What I am witnessing is the country I have chosen to live in taking a wrong turn. I am left with a feeling of deep disappointment in British institutions and British political common sense. I remember how my British friends used to mock Italy for electing Silvio Berlusconi as prime minister, and I loved the fact that I lived in a country that recognised how surreal Italian politics was. Honest, correct sensible Britain on the one hand and crazy, foolish corrupted Italy on the other.

Unfortunately the landscape has changed. If the worst comes to the worst, I can still go back to the crazy corrupted Italy we all loved to take the mickey out of. British-born people without another nationality, on the other hand, have no plan B. They are the ones who will be forced to deal with an unrecognisable Britain, bitter and corrupted, the victims of an Etonian gamble gone very wrong.

• Mimi Mollica is a photographer