![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Feb. 8th, 2016 08:43 amMom asked me yesterday if I could edit myself from now on whenever I bring up commission prices on this blog. I'll let her write what actually happened here before she goes off to work:
Grandma [Barbara] asked Dad how Eric was doing, and based on his response of "I don't ordinarily read his blog," I assumed Eric had written something that might have given her something to be concerned about. For the record, Dad said that he and Eric see each other all day long and if there is something to discuss they just talk about it. Anyway, this prompted me to look at the most recent blog entry and note that if there was something she found offensive, it might be the content of the commissions, or else the price, which she would find exorbitant for spending freely on when one doesn't have a regular income, which is why I recommended limiting what she sees so that she does not get upset. It was then that I saw a Facebook post which more likely gave her a reason to wonder if Eric is depressed or something of that sort of frame of mind, as that would make more sense.
Here is what I shared with Mom, with the opening line "I'm tired of hearing it all the time."
https://everydayfeminism.com/2016/03/doesnt-happen-for-a-reason/
What led all the way up to that, all started with several things I had seen on Chelle's Tumblr. Unrelated as they may be (and I'd have to dig them up again if anyone asks), they sounded similar to that whole past situation of mine with Dowling, about Mom and sometimes Dad getting on my case about my schoolwork while I try to maintain my mental health by neglecting all kinds of stuff short of my term papers and most exams in favor of video games and the occasional attempt at drawing. The fact that this is all old news only makes me feel even worse, because I barely have anything left to rebel against and will probably feel like a pushover for the rest of my life. The last chance I ever got to feel better about myself (at least regarding that whole deal) happened unexpectedly on New Year's night of 2012, and went unmentioned due to insufficient time the next morning before we had to leave home and too much else to write about the day after. (Let's remember that that was my first visit to Kinokuniya in New York City, and we also had to meet up with Marie and Jacob elsewhere in the city.)
What happened, was that I was talking to Brian about college and work, and at some point, I said that maybe it's for the better that I skipped half my assignments while I was attending school. Dad walked by and overheard that, and then sat down next to me on the couch and proceeded to lecture me about stuff like the educational value I had missed out on and how disappointed he was in me for being such a cheapskate that whole time right under his nose, and asked me what the deal was with me flat-out refusing to take classes since graduating. I wish I had openly expressed real satisfaction over that while he was going on, and even told him about also spending half my total classtime pacing around in the halls (something Mom already knew about since my final semester), but I only smiled briefly, and I'm not sure whether he failed to notice or simply dismissed it. Moments after he finished, I went up to him while he was on his computer, and told him how good it made me feel that he'd be less than pleased with me. Moments later still, he suggested and even insisted I go outside, stands by me while I put my shoes and jacket on, and says before I leave, "Don't come back. Bye bye." I spend some time walking up and down Masem Court in heavy rain, ranting incoherently to myself, before eventually coming back inside (and the door wasn't even locked), and we made the fuck up.
(While I can't remember what I said to trigger this, he did mention during his tirade that he never chose to have me with Mom. He has mentioned even previously that, when you're married, your wife could get pregnant and you just need to be ready to take care of the coming child. In truth, though, I have heard of prenuptial agreements. The concept came up once during Personal Business & Law back in 12th grade, when we were learning about marital law.)
(It does help, though, that at least both he and Brian understood a certain point I brought up shortly after reconciling, about how little willpower left I used to have to do anything personal all each semester long and during the aftermath of each semester, to the point where I wouldn't even set a date to start with anything on my to-do list for the following break because that would just stress me out even more. Until then, I was afraid that what Dad would perceive was just me wanting more free time than I had most of the time back then, and then just wasting it on video games and pre-existing pictures of "girls in their underwear", and I wouldn't know how to explain anything to him. He actually asked if that's what I'd be doing with any additional leisure I wanted at the end of my first semester at Dowling after seeing certain things I had pulled up (like, Pokesho) and hearing me complain to Mom about how excessive her and his and all my teachers' expectations are of me (to say nothing on my part of the system itself demanding I take a minimum of four classes per semester). It was exactly for that reason that I never brought my issues up with him instead of always with Mom, but Brian described such a thing as decompression, and contrary to what I expected, Dad told me that he often experienced the same thing himself project after project that his job entailed.)
Even though Brian did chalk up my expressed thoughts of suicide on our way home from Manhattan the next night to my physical health at the time creeping into my thoughts, these issues did surface again two years later, when I received copies of bloodscorpion88's old works and started over with reading I Was Kagami Hiiragi, even though I was already eating healthier and working out regularly. Ryuji, one of its main antagonists, explains a past situation of his to Kagami late in chapter 2, after first getting to know her, from which he took control of his own life a lot more successfully than I did:
"And to think about all the pressure my parents would put on me. My parents wanted me to be a doctor and follow the family trade but I couldn't take the ongoing pressure so one night I finally said 'fuck all of you' and I started living my own way! I mean, the endless scolding, knowing that all eyes were on me, knowing that if I screwed up just once then my entire life would turn into the Hindenburg… Damn I could never do what you're about to do, Hiiragi!"
Really, though, this whole thing isn't so much about my parents setting my priorities for me and involving themselves in my schoolwork, so much as my feelings of inadequacy for just letting them. I can't be mad at them for only wanting to help me build a better future for myself, and there were times when I actually did tell Mom off, but the last time until what happened two years later was during the night before my last day of classes, in which Mom insisted I continue studying for the remaining exams, even though I had already been studying for most of the day, and chose the time I had picked to do an RP with Jake to finally go over some Chinese history stuff I had been actually asking for her help with for more than a week already. I just went along with it all, and nothing came up about my cultural psychology final, unlike with the same class's midterm from earlier on, during which I would have just told them to shut up.
Just the other day, I went to the gym with Mom after she got home from work, but couldn't bring myself to do even one repetition on one of the few machines I had access to in the then-crowded establishment (all the treadmills were taken) before resigning myself to the tables. I was too busy wondering why Mom cared so much more than I did about my schoolwork, asking me to provide so much more elaborate answers to each of my history questions during 9th grade and part of 10th than just single sentences, when I had better things to do, and especially this one time when I borrowed Matthew's Playstation and one of his games (Threads of Fate, in case anyone's curious) for what spanned for only a week before he came over and took them back home. Same deal with Vincent, who once called me out for my resistance to his offers of help with all my different papers, and often got on my case about writing them in my bed and on one of my notebooks instead of on our computer, complained about how rudimentary a job I did with them, and told me that the point of college is not just to get by but to do my damn best, even if that means re-doing any exams possible that I got a B or C on. Of course I resisted him and half-assed my shit; I had better things to do than to write about irrelevant stuff or even still attend college itself when I originally expected to be done after landing my associate's degree after three years at Suffolk.
I got around to writing about my issues two days ago for her to read. Yesterday morning, I had received something she shared with me, about the premise of the movie Groundhog Day, and that's when I replied by showing her that essay through Facebook.
Grandma [Barbara] asked Dad how Eric was doing, and based on his response of "I don't ordinarily read his blog," I assumed Eric had written something that might have given her something to be concerned about. For the record, Dad said that he and Eric see each other all day long and if there is something to discuss they just talk about it. Anyway, this prompted me to look at the most recent blog entry and note that if there was something she found offensive, it might be the content of the commissions, or else the price, which she would find exorbitant for spending freely on when one doesn't have a regular income, which is why I recommended limiting what she sees so that she does not get upset. It was then that I saw a Facebook post which more likely gave her a reason to wonder if Eric is depressed or something of that sort of frame of mind, as that would make more sense.
Here is what I shared with Mom, with the opening line "I'm tired of hearing it all the time."
https://everydayfeminism.com/2016/03/doesnt-happen-for-a-reason/
What led all the way up to that, all started with several things I had seen on Chelle's Tumblr. Unrelated as they may be (and I'd have to dig them up again if anyone asks), they sounded similar to that whole past situation of mine with Dowling, about Mom and sometimes Dad getting on my case about my schoolwork while I try to maintain my mental health by neglecting all kinds of stuff short of my term papers and most exams in favor of video games and the occasional attempt at drawing. The fact that this is all old news only makes me feel even worse, because I barely have anything left to rebel against and will probably feel like a pushover for the rest of my life. The last chance I ever got to feel better about myself (at least regarding that whole deal) happened unexpectedly on New Year's night of 2012, and went unmentioned due to insufficient time the next morning before we had to leave home and too much else to write about the day after. (Let's remember that that was my first visit to Kinokuniya in New York City, and we also had to meet up with Marie and Jacob elsewhere in the city.)
What happened, was that I was talking to Brian about college and work, and at some point, I said that maybe it's for the better that I skipped half my assignments while I was attending school. Dad walked by and overheard that, and then sat down next to me on the couch and proceeded to lecture me about stuff like the educational value I had missed out on and how disappointed he was in me for being such a cheapskate that whole time right under his nose, and asked me what the deal was with me flat-out refusing to take classes since graduating. I wish I had openly expressed real satisfaction over that while he was going on, and even told him about also spending half my total classtime pacing around in the halls (something Mom already knew about since my final semester), but I only smiled briefly, and I'm not sure whether he failed to notice or simply dismissed it. Moments after he finished, I went up to him while he was on his computer, and told him how good it made me feel that he'd be less than pleased with me. Moments later still, he suggested and even insisted I go outside, stands by me while I put my shoes and jacket on, and says before I leave, "Don't come back. Bye bye." I spend some time walking up and down Masem Court in heavy rain, ranting incoherently to myself, before eventually coming back inside (and the door wasn't even locked), and we made the fuck up.
(While I can't remember what I said to trigger this, he did mention during his tirade that he never chose to have me with Mom. He has mentioned even previously that, when you're married, your wife could get pregnant and you just need to be ready to take care of the coming child. In truth, though, I have heard of prenuptial agreements. The concept came up once during Personal Business & Law back in 12th grade, when we were learning about marital law.)
(It does help, though, that at least both he and Brian understood a certain point I brought up shortly after reconciling, about how little willpower left I used to have to do anything personal all each semester long and during the aftermath of each semester, to the point where I wouldn't even set a date to start with anything on my to-do list for the following break because that would just stress me out even more. Until then, I was afraid that what Dad would perceive was just me wanting more free time than I had most of the time back then, and then just wasting it on video games and pre-existing pictures of "girls in their underwear", and I wouldn't know how to explain anything to him. He actually asked if that's what I'd be doing with any additional leisure I wanted at the end of my first semester at Dowling after seeing certain things I had pulled up (like, Pokesho) and hearing me complain to Mom about how excessive her and his and all my teachers' expectations are of me (to say nothing on my part of the system itself demanding I take a minimum of four classes per semester). It was exactly for that reason that I never brought my issues up with him instead of always with Mom, but Brian described such a thing as decompression, and contrary to what I expected, Dad told me that he often experienced the same thing himself project after project that his job entailed.)
Even though Brian did chalk up my expressed thoughts of suicide on our way home from Manhattan the next night to my physical health at the time creeping into my thoughts, these issues did surface again two years later, when I received copies of bloodscorpion88's old works and started over with reading I Was Kagami Hiiragi, even though I was already eating healthier and working out regularly. Ryuji, one of its main antagonists, explains a past situation of his to Kagami late in chapter 2, after first getting to know her, from which he took control of his own life a lot more successfully than I did:
"And to think about all the pressure my parents would put on me. My parents wanted me to be a doctor and follow the family trade but I couldn't take the ongoing pressure so one night I finally said 'fuck all of you' and I started living my own way! I mean, the endless scolding, knowing that all eyes were on me, knowing that if I screwed up just once then my entire life would turn into the Hindenburg… Damn I could never do what you're about to do, Hiiragi!"
Really, though, this whole thing isn't so much about my parents setting my priorities for me and involving themselves in my schoolwork, so much as my feelings of inadequacy for just letting them. I can't be mad at them for only wanting to help me build a better future for myself, and there were times when I actually did tell Mom off, but the last time until what happened two years later was during the night before my last day of classes, in which Mom insisted I continue studying for the remaining exams, even though I had already been studying for most of the day, and chose the time I had picked to do an RP with Jake to finally go over some Chinese history stuff I had been actually asking for her help with for more than a week already. I just went along with it all, and nothing came up about my cultural psychology final, unlike with the same class's midterm from earlier on, during which I would have just told them to shut up.
Just the other day, I went to the gym with Mom after she got home from work, but couldn't bring myself to do even one repetition on one of the few machines I had access to in the then-crowded establishment (all the treadmills were taken) before resigning myself to the tables. I was too busy wondering why Mom cared so much more than I did about my schoolwork, asking me to provide so much more elaborate answers to each of my history questions during 9th grade and part of 10th than just single sentences, when I had better things to do, and especially this one time when I borrowed Matthew's Playstation and one of his games (Threads of Fate, in case anyone's curious) for what spanned for only a week before he came over and took them back home. Same deal with Vincent, who once called me out for my resistance to his offers of help with all my different papers, and often got on my case about writing them in my bed and on one of my notebooks instead of on our computer, complained about how rudimentary a job I did with them, and told me that the point of college is not just to get by but to do my damn best, even if that means re-doing any exams possible that I got a B or C on. Of course I resisted him and half-assed my shit; I had better things to do than to write about irrelevant stuff or even still attend college itself when I originally expected to be done after landing my associate's degree after three years at Suffolk.
I got around to writing about my issues two days ago for her to read. Yesterday morning, I had received something she shared with me, about the premise of the movie Groundhog Day, and that's when I replied by showing her that essay through Facebook.