||March 3rd, 2017 Friday|| Lately, I've been working with that PTSD workbook on and off. Some of it has been helpful. At the very least, I've gotten better at detailing events that happened in a way that minimizes how much it drains me emotionally. I've been keeping a mood bullet journal, and while I haven't gotten to complete consistency yet with remembering to actually record everything down, I do feel like it has helped along with regular walks, watching my calorie intake (making sure I actually eat enough), meditating, and keeping up with my archery classes. I think I'm at a point where I can manage creating a more organized schedule for my weeks, though I'm still not exactly sure about the method I'll be using. Last year, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what exactly I want to do after finishing my degree, and I tried to really get a grasp for different things in my field, as I'd already been doing. At the end of the year, I mostly felt defeated because every single thing I've tried these last few years is just not for me or wouldn't work. But it's not like I hate anything about my major and I love learning the subject. But the typical career paths that lead to the best pay all irk me. I made it a goal at the start of the year to figure out what my next step would be after graduating. Well, it took me a while but I was finally able to come to a realization. I think doing all of this journaling and working through things helped me reach a breakthrough. I'm not a scientist. I don't want to be a scientist. I'll be a teacher instead. Lower pay for sure, and my dad's already started on about how that isn't a "real" career and that he wishes all public education teachers could get paid even less than minimum wage because they don't deserve any money they get paid and other weird nonsense simply because my cousin said she was considering that path. He's still pushing for me to go into research and I realized something. Why the hell do I still care what he thinks? I'm already going to be cutting off all contact with this guy in the relative near future. What the fuck is wrong with me? When I think back on my childhood, when people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I typically recited "a scientist" and then the specific field my father wanted me to be in. (Of course, once I was actually working towards that, he suddenly didn't approve of that field anymore because it's boring and kept trying to push me in a new field practically every other month!) But in my head I'd be fantasizing about having a classroom and how I'd decorate it and what sort of teaching methods I could try implementing to see if they'd have better results than the ones most of my schools advocated for. I'd even spend time reading up on different teaching techniques. I still look up that stuff. The answer is obvious, but I was refusing to see the answer because I was still letting him have some bit of control over me. That disturbs me. I've spent nearly my entire life trying to resist being controlled like that (though I mostly failed as a teenager and fell right into my parents hands doing whatever they wanted and burying my real self as deeply as possible). That there could be anything leftover like that, and it go so deep, it infuriates me. But there's no point in being angry. For the first time in a long time, I actually feel energized about the future. So, I'll be studying to take the GRE and GACE. After yet another attempt at both my parents for trying to shame and discourage me from doing things I enjoy, I've signed up to be put on the list for contact when my range opens up classes for archery instructor certification in Spring. I'm sure they'll both complain about how that's stupid yet again, just like they did when one of the coaches asked me to help with an orientation class and shadow them for the day because I did it for free and that doesn't lead to a high paying job. My dad's spent his entire life trying to pretend to be wealthy when he's not, and always lived outside of his means no matter how his salary increased and he's clearly still just as unhappy and pathetic of a person as he was when he was broke. I'm not going to spend my life comparing myself to other people. There is no point in that. And as a personal fuck you to both of my parents, for my BS required "wellness" class (which I suppose the actual "goal" part has been useful despite the rest of the class being BS busywork), my reward for achieving my semester long goal is to take a music class. Can't stop me from playing instruments now that I'm an adult. Now the question is which instrument will I start with. Violin, harp, and cello are my top choices, but I feel like if I pick violin, my dad will sit and constantly go on about how he was totally a genius violin player in elementary school for a year or whatever. Cello or harp it is then, but which one? I feel like he'd also be intimidated by me playing cello because it's a string instrument he doesn't know how to play. Harp he would probably just think of as too feminine to care about and criticize it on that basis. All would be deemed a "waste of money", with the question of "how does this further your future", and "what's the REAL reason you're doing this? THERE MUST BE A SPECIAL REASON. You can't just want to enjoy something!" I don't know, Dad. Maybe if you paid attention to me at any point in my childhood outside of when you needed to gloat or take your anger out on someone, you'd know I'd been trying to get you to let me try pretty much any instrument I came in contact with. Sometimes, I think I'm being presumptuous about my parents reactions, but I'm proven wrong time and time again. The only time my guesses about their reactions are wrong is if I have any delusion they might be proud of me doing something, excited for me, or happy about me. I have some more memories to record, but I'll be putting those in a separate post.