Rambling, racing self-realizations:
I wish I could believe that my parents could love me no matter what.
I’m afraid they’ll reject me the moment I stop giving them reason to love me.
I think that’s part of why I’m so afraid of failure – I mean, I’ve hit close to rock bottom – it’s not how it might affect me – what kind of deep, dark place it might lead me to this time – but how it might affect my parents’ opinion of me and attitude towards me.
I wish I could study without minding what my parents might say about it.
I’m constantly conflicted about whether I should inform them that I’m studying something when I need to communicate that, either because I’m picking up something new and wish to share the exciting news, or because I don’t want to be disturbed. I often want to, and sometimes do, hide to study or try to hide the fact that I’m studying because I don’t want to even think about what’s going through their minds, let alone hear it out loud.
I’ve never studied purely for my own sake before, and I wish I could have absolute inward (mental, sometimes subconscious) and outward (perceptible) control over whether I study and how I study (what I study, when I study, what method I use to study, how hard I study, and how much I study).
I want to be able to study without minding anyone else. I just want to be left alone. To study. Or not to study. Whatever I decide.
I wish I had the freedom to decide my own future.
I wish I were able to think freely about the my possible career paths and their consequent lifestyles.
I wish I could liberate my thoughts from the boundaries set directly and indirectly by my parents.
I can’t decide what I want to do with my life, and I feel like my thoughts are trapped.
My parents reject the idea that they’ve pressured me about my future at all, and it’s true that at some point in my adolescence, they stopped trying to tell me what I’m going to study, where I’m going to study that, and what I’m going to accomplish by going there to study that. But I did not decide for myself that I needed to go to a prestigious school, study something that could make me “successful”, and study hard enough to stand out and achieve that version of “success”.
These are thoughts that have been instilled in me since grade school that are constantly kept in check by my parents’ vocal disapproval and forceful hints. It’s true that they’ve stopped telling me what to do, but they’ve never stopped laying out what I shouldn’t do, and when there are so many things you can’t do, there are only so many things you can do.
Drawing a white line on a black sheet of paper is not very different from colouring a white sheet of paper entirely black but for a stripe. The experienced result is the same.
I wish I had the emotional support and resoluteness to pull away and liberate myself, and risk being hated, being resented, being disowned, and feeling abandoned by my parents, the only people in the world whose approval I earnestly care for.
No one is visibly pressuring me, yet I feel so pressured nowadays that I stop myself from thinking at all. And then I feel like I’m growing dumber, number.