Control or Pavlov?
All this fuckery because I kept "bringing home" C's. Until last week I had never brought home anything worse than a 'C'. All because of the letter 'C', which my mom keeps reacting to as if it's a goddamn 'D' or 'F'. Fine, so I could be really childish and immature - I actively hate certain classes and I do admit to not giving it my all because of my loathing - but I have never tried to fail the class because of it.
We made an agreement to decide what to do about Fall Quarter pending the results of this Summer Session II. I thought that was fair, reasonable, given the shit my mom and I went through the past two years - I have readers here who can attest to the meltdowns in the fucking hallway - because she thought I was simply not giving an effort towards my studies, and yeah, I didn't give as much hell to it as I did in high school.
But FUCK NO, I did NOT think I'd miss a fucking final. Yes, I should honor my agreement and rethink Fall Quarter - one more week, goddammit - but over something I didn't mean to do or expect or even imagine? She kept accusing me of fucking it up for reasons other than "it just happened" because my professor said in the email that he had mentioned on several occasions the time, date, and day of the final exam. I still have no idea why or how it happened, and she still doesn't get it.
She keeps accusing me of being addicted to the Internet. After that article on ontd_political about it I just...I still remember on another article about how people should suck it up and deal with the wired 21st century. That's what I want to tell her - no I'm not addicted; I wake up in the morning to check my email and the fucking news and the goings-on from people I'm friends with or follow before carrying on with the day. My social life, for what it's worth, isn't lacking; I'm quite comfortable with it, thank you very fucking much.
But I'm sure she means more than "the Internet". It's the computer. She's never stopped telling me how it bothers her that I don't read books anymore, when I was a horrid bookworm in my youth and drove her up the wall with that. You know what it is? It's the writing (and drawing). It's the overflow of creativity after stocking up on it with all those books I've read.
You know what else? It's the fear that keeps me on the computer, writing and drawing. I keep thinking, "I'm gonna lose it, I'm gonna lose it, I have to keep going, going, going..." which is why I keep sleeping 2-3 hours later than I mean to. What am I afraid of?
Mom keeps asking me to see things from her PoV, see why she thinks this way and acts this way, and understand what it is she wants me to do. She never fails to remind me how much she loves me and wants me to succeed, how she's always pushed and shoved so that I could aim higher than CSUN, that she's not out to ruin me. I know that. I'm grateful, Mom. I'm sorry for the hell I put you through in order to see me go to a university like UCSD, and I appreciate your infinite patience. I really do. Mother's love, you know.
But right now? Right now what I feel is fear. I'm terrified. She's right, you know. It's only 6 months, a whole year, enough time so "we can start over", and what's that compared to 80 years on this planet? After all, graduate students are finding themselves living at home, earning minimum wage, thanks to a shit economy.
I reached out to Dad; he wants the full story, and what can I tell him? He warned me about getting bad grades and how he'd cut off financial aid if that were to happen - and this was before we started realizing that he couldn't pay for everything, hence FAFSA + loans.
Right. Dad. Mom asked me about Dad, because for some reason tonight we were incredibly civil and candid. She asked me how I really felt about Dad leaving, and I said that in truth I didn't feel that horrible about it. So she thinks that it's because I don't care for him anymore. What? No, I moved on. I'm growing up, and I'm seeing Dad less as someone who needs to be a constant presence in my life - like Mom - and more as someone I could ask for advice and perhaps financial assistance. And then she goes and says that he left the house because he wasn't happy with us. If my brother or I had shown a modicum of care, of the fact that we needed him, or if he had really cared for one of us he'd have stayed.
Bullshit, Mom. I can't believe I'm saying/writing/typing/thinking this, to be honest. But in a way she was right about the difference between men and women when it comes to children - of course I know it from a biological standpoint and told her so. But I've had conversations with my dad - more like he was shouting and I was crying - and in a way I do get him. I get him because he spent half his life living in America and I grew up in it. I get him because I'm more willing to see his side of things compared to my mom.
So where did Mom and I go horribly wrong? We're not out to destroy each other, I told her I didn't want to cut off all communication from her, we do love each other as mother and daughter, but just what is it that makes us fight all the goddamn time? And yeah, I just don't see it happening with friends we know. Maybe they're just not telling us, who knows, but from what I see they don't seem to be going through the same kind of hell we're going through. I know there are way worse relationships out there, I know that what my mom and I are going through is relatively mild compared to the truly disgusting and horrific things that we do put each other through, but this is me and my life and I'm just so frustrated.
Noon, she wants me to tell her what I want to do, what I think. She doesn't want me to spout out what my friends (aka YOU) have been telling me. What the fuck, Mom? What the hell have you been listening to? What makes you think I'm just regurgitating what my friends are suggesting? Well I'm sorry for happening to (mostly) agree with them. I'm sorry that most people you've asked for advice happen to agree with me.
Or maybe I should just tell you what one of my biggest fears is. Maybe I should just tell you that I don't know why but I always have to keep going. Why am I so scared of dropping out for a few months? Because I'll lose my momentum. Because I'll never get back in the game. Senioritis, okay? You slack off, you lose it. Try picking it up again; it fucking SUCKS.
I really should've kept up with the psychologist had I known what kind of hell was going to come down on my freaking head.
Should I tell her that I reached out to Dad? Maybe this is my way of trying to break free...but from what? What is it about Mom that makes me want to go far away? Is it my flaws or hers? I can do no wrong vs. she can do no wrong? I can't reconcile her determination to see me succeed with her demands to know everything about me. I'm a goddamn contrary person - you push me, I push you back. Except when you move as if to hit me because then I flinch, and isn't that just fucking sad?
Idk, idk, idk, idk, I keep thinking that I'm the one grasping at straws, that I'm just being petulant and stubborn and ridiculous, while she's the suffering, patient, sometimes-misguided mother who's waiting for her wayward child to come to her senses. Is that true? Am I just imagining things? Is that how she sincerely sees it? Is that culture seeping in? What is it? Why do I have to feel like shit all the fucking time? That's why I cried and told you I hated myself, Mom. You have no idea how much I feel like shit sometimes.
I mean, why do you keep asking me about missing the final? Yeah, I felt like shit, SO WHY KEEP ASKING IF I FEEL THE RESPONSIBLITY THAT CAME WITH IT? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK? I ALMOST CRIED IN FRONT OF FUCKING GEISEL LIBRARY WHILE TELLING YOU I MISSED IT.
YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK IS RESPONSIBILITY? TAKING THAT CLASS AGAIN TO GET RID OF THE INEVITABLE D/F. NOT DROPPING OUT TO REEVALUATE MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE.
A PROMISE IS A PROMISE, BUT NOT WHEN I KEEP THINKING I'M GOING TO DIE IF I DON'T CONTINUE GOING TO COLLEGE. YEAH, DIE. AND YOU KNOW WHAT? I BLAME IT ON KOREA, TOO. YOU AND YOUR MASSIVELY ANAL EMPHASIS ON EDUCATION. IT WAS ALL ABOUT EDUCATION...AND SUDDENLY YOU WANT ME TO LEAVE FOR A YEAR TO REALIZE THAT STUDYING > DICKING AROUND ON THE COMPUTER?
YEAH. STILL TRYING TO PROCESS THAT. FOUR DAYS NOW. I JUST DON'T GET IT.
We made an agreement to decide what to do about Fall Quarter pending the results of this Summer Session II. I thought that was fair, reasonable, given the shit my mom and I went through the past two years - I have readers here who can attest to the meltdowns in the fucking hallway - because she thought I was simply not giving an effort towards my studies, and yeah, I didn't give as much hell to it as I did in high school.
But FUCK NO, I did NOT think I'd miss a fucking final. Yes, I should honor my agreement and rethink Fall Quarter - one more week, goddammit - but over something I didn't mean to do or expect or even imagine? She kept accusing me of fucking it up for reasons other than "it just happened" because my professor said in the email that he had mentioned on several occasions the time, date, and day of the final exam. I still have no idea why or how it happened, and she still doesn't get it.
She keeps accusing me of being addicted to the Internet. After that article on ontd_political about it I just...I still remember on another article about how people should suck it up and deal with the wired 21st century. That's what I want to tell her - no I'm not addicted; I wake up in the morning to check my email and the fucking news and the goings-on from people I'm friends with or follow before carrying on with the day. My social life, for what it's worth, isn't lacking; I'm quite comfortable with it, thank you very fucking much.
But I'm sure she means more than "the Internet". It's the computer. She's never stopped telling me how it bothers her that I don't read books anymore, when I was a horrid bookworm in my youth and drove her up the wall with that. You know what it is? It's the writing (and drawing). It's the overflow of creativity after stocking up on it with all those books I've read.
You know what else? It's the fear that keeps me on the computer, writing and drawing. I keep thinking, "I'm gonna lose it, I'm gonna lose it, I have to keep going, going, going..." which is why I keep sleeping 2-3 hours later than I mean to. What am I afraid of?
Mom keeps asking me to see things from her PoV, see why she thinks this way and acts this way, and understand what it is she wants me to do. She never fails to remind me how much she loves me and wants me to succeed, how she's always pushed and shoved so that I could aim higher than CSUN, that she's not out to ruin me. I know that. I'm grateful, Mom. I'm sorry for the hell I put you through in order to see me go to a university like UCSD, and I appreciate your infinite patience. I really do. Mother's love, you know.
But right now? Right now what I feel is fear. I'm terrified. She's right, you know. It's only 6 months, a whole year, enough time so "we can start over", and what's that compared to 80 years on this planet? After all, graduate students are finding themselves living at home, earning minimum wage, thanks to a shit economy.
I reached out to Dad; he wants the full story, and what can I tell him? He warned me about getting bad grades and how he'd cut off financial aid if that were to happen - and this was before we started realizing that he couldn't pay for everything, hence FAFSA + loans.
Right. Dad. Mom asked me about Dad, because for some reason tonight we were incredibly civil and candid. She asked me how I really felt about Dad leaving, and I said that in truth I didn't feel that horrible about it. So she thinks that it's because I don't care for him anymore. What? No, I moved on. I'm growing up, and I'm seeing Dad less as someone who needs to be a constant presence in my life - like Mom - and more as someone I could ask for advice and perhaps financial assistance. And then she goes and says that he left the house because he wasn't happy with us. If my brother or I had shown a modicum of care, of the fact that we needed him, or if he had really cared for one of us he'd have stayed.
Bullshit, Mom. I can't believe I'm saying/writing/typing/thinking this, to be honest. But in a way she was right about the difference between men and women when it comes to children - of course I know it from a biological standpoint and told her so. But I've had conversations with my dad - more like he was shouting and I was crying - and in a way I do get him. I get him because he spent half his life living in America and I grew up in it. I get him because I'm more willing to see his side of things compared to my mom.
So where did Mom and I go horribly wrong? We're not out to destroy each other, I told her I didn't want to cut off all communication from her, we do love each other as mother and daughter, but just what is it that makes us fight all the goddamn time? And yeah, I just don't see it happening with friends we know. Maybe they're just not telling us, who knows, but from what I see they don't seem to be going through the same kind of hell we're going through. I know there are way worse relationships out there, I know that what my mom and I are going through is relatively mild compared to the truly disgusting and horrific things that we do put each other through, but this is me and my life and I'm just so frustrated.
Noon, she wants me to tell her what I want to do, what I think. She doesn't want me to spout out what my friends (aka YOU) have been telling me. What the fuck, Mom? What the hell have you been listening to? What makes you think I'm just regurgitating what my friends are suggesting? Well I'm sorry for happening to (mostly) agree with them. I'm sorry that most people you've asked for advice happen to agree with me.
Or maybe I should just tell you what one of my biggest fears is. Maybe I should just tell you that I don't know why but I always have to keep going. Why am I so scared of dropping out for a few months? Because I'll lose my momentum. Because I'll never get back in the game. Senioritis, okay? You slack off, you lose it. Try picking it up again; it fucking SUCKS.
I really should've kept up with the psychologist had I known what kind of hell was going to come down on my freaking head.
Should I tell her that I reached out to Dad? Maybe this is my way of trying to break free...but from what? What is it about Mom that makes me want to go far away? Is it my flaws or hers? I can do no wrong vs. she can do no wrong? I can't reconcile her determination to see me succeed with her demands to know everything about me. I'm a goddamn contrary person - you push me, I push you back. Except when you move as if to hit me because then I flinch, and isn't that just fucking sad?
Idk, idk, idk, idk, I keep thinking that I'm the one grasping at straws, that I'm just being petulant and stubborn and ridiculous, while she's the suffering, patient, sometimes-misguided mother who's waiting for her wayward child to come to her senses. Is that true? Am I just imagining things? Is that how she sincerely sees it? Is that culture seeping in? What is it? Why do I have to feel like shit all the fucking time? That's why I cried and told you I hated myself, Mom. You have no idea how much I feel like shit sometimes.
I mean, why do you keep asking me about missing the final? Yeah, I felt like shit, SO WHY KEEP ASKING IF I FEEL THE RESPONSIBLITY THAT CAME WITH IT? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK? I ALMOST CRIED IN FRONT OF FUCKING GEISEL LIBRARY WHILE TELLING YOU I MISSED IT.
YOU KNOW WHAT I THINK IS RESPONSIBILITY? TAKING THAT CLASS AGAIN TO GET RID OF THE INEVITABLE D/F. NOT DROPPING OUT TO REEVALUATE MY WHOLE FUCKING LIFE.
A PROMISE IS A PROMISE, BUT NOT WHEN I KEEP THINKING I'M GOING TO DIE IF I DON'T CONTINUE GOING TO COLLEGE. YEAH, DIE. AND YOU KNOW WHAT? I BLAME IT ON KOREA, TOO. YOU AND YOUR MASSIVELY ANAL EMPHASIS ON EDUCATION. IT WAS ALL ABOUT EDUCATION...AND SUDDENLY YOU WANT ME TO LEAVE FOR A YEAR TO REALIZE THAT STUDYING > DICKING AROUND ON THE COMPUTER?
YEAH. STILL TRYING TO PROCESS THAT. FOUR DAYS NOW. I JUST DON'T GET IT.