Music has always been the one thing about which I wasn't confident that I had it in me to conquer.
That's why studying violin was irresistibly appealing. Regular academics are always and will always be the same old game. Not only was I burnt out and couldn't make myself care anymore, I also knew I could still destroy regular school if I wanted to and just knowing that was enough to stop seeing it as a true challenge. Yeah college is stupidly hard. But it's doable. With music, I will never have the confidence to be certain that I'm not doing everything completely wrong, and I can never in a million years be prepared enough.
This was something for which I knew I had to change and develop a whole lot in order to accept. It's not the world I was raised in, it's not the world that I'm comfortable in. I also had to accept the pathetic truth that while a musician has to admit that they'll never in their lifetime be good enough, they have to keep fighting every day as if they will be. It makes sense in a really twisted way. The music makes it worth it. Falling so hard in love with music makes it worth it. Learning to let a performance sweep you off your feet and bring you to tears is worth it. It's weird how something so artificial as true classical music appreciation, something that 99.9% of people aren't born with and must spend years of their life developing, can guide you to the most organic understanding of human nature.
It's been three years of major self discovery, and I unearth new insecurities but also celebrate new triumphs daily.
Most rewarding decision of my life. I fucking suck at violin, but it's OK. The process of figuring that out has molded me into somebody who I'm happy and proud to be. Every day I have to look my biggest insecurities in the eye, fight them to the death, then somehow rebuild my spirits up again to do it the next day. Knowing that here is this thing that I've spent more time on than anything else in life, but will never be wonderfully great at it, used to make me hate myself. But these battles have given me the greatest gift I could ever ask for, and that's learning to be OK. OK with everything. The music and how impossibly high it can make my heart soar has taught me that I am capable of pouring out an endless amount of love for everybody and everything and I never have to be afraid I'll run out. Isn't that a nice thing to know? It's all that really matters in life.

//end psycho

My life is such a shipwreck all the time and I am a complete crazy person. Also, that last entry was really terribly written. My nose is driving me insane, I keep feeling this ridiculous intense need to sneeze but it won't come out and I've just been walking around moaning out of discomfort and then occasionally, if lucky, sneezing, and then doing that snotty sigh of relief thing and basically just wearing a perpetual need-to-sneeze face everywhere I go. Yick.

So easily derailed these days, one phone call from Chris L. from the seminary in Nebraska asking me how I am and reminding me to not forget about God and I'm a crying mess

I've always somewhat judged people who say bullshit like, "my mother and I don't get along," I think they're ungrateful, immature, shortsighted, selfish.. everything bad. But the more time I spend away from home, the more I've discovered about myself, my abilities, my strengths, and the power of positive thinking, the way I thrive when I surround myself with positive people and believe in myself. I never would have learned it had I not left this house. When I come home, she goes out of her way to crush it all to oblivion, because to her, the positivity is delusion. I feel weighed down, I feel discouraged, I feel ugly, I feel inadequate. I stop believing in my worth and potential, I start letting her convince me that I'm a loser.  I want more than anything in the entire world to have a good relationship with her, but she doesn't seem to be willing to cooperate until I live my life the way she wants me to live it. And fine, that sounds reasonable when you're talking about a drug addict, drop out, wild child, but that's not me and it's not worth the years that she's taking off her life for worrying like she is. I worry about my future plenty, the last thing I need is for my mother to constantly be telling me that I'm going to fail. I suggested to her just the other day that the talks/arguments about what I'm going to do with myself need to be put on pause so we can focus on repairing and strengthening our relationship. She agreed. Then tonight in the car she somehow got around to attacking me relentlessly again, and now we can't even look at each other. I don't know what to do anymore except remove myself from the equation. I can't be around it, because if I don't protect myself from it, I will fail.
I think part of the reason for my inconsistent motivation in music school is her voice in the back of my head telling me that I'm wasting my time. I want to full steam ahead to work to be where I want to be, but I can't shut that out, I can't stop thinking that I'm wasting my time. I want her to relax, I want her to be happy, I want her to be proud of me. But she won't be unless I pursue something that is not music, and I won't ever be happy with myself until I'm proud of my achievements as a musician. Deadlock of the century. Everything is shitty.

I shouldn't be writing this about her. I'll go to hell for giving any reason for my mother to lose face and it will eat my conscience alive. I love her for all she's worth, I love her. I love her for everything she's ever done for me. This is not a good time for us, but it will pass. Until then, we need to work our asses off to learn to accept each other and be happy with each other. We both want the same thing for me. I wish I could help her understand that.

It's also weird little things like, harassing me nonstop about getting my mole removed, dragging me to dermatologist appointments for evaluations, telling me that it's ugly and no guy will ever want me, demanding to know who on earth ever told me it was pretty. It's something that I've been working to accept and love about myself for twenty-one years, and here she is again telling me that it's something about myself that I should hate.
Then that night I drop in on the big Asian Christmas Eve dinner that my family is at and I'm dolled up and I look pretty as hell and she is sitting there at the card table beaming with happiness because all the other parents are telling her as soon as I walk through the front door that I've grown up to be so beautiful and they even call me in from the kitchen to prove to my mom that they think I look like a familiar Asian actress while their fat greasy awkward kids are upstairs playing Pokemon, and she knows and everybody knows that I've done her proud. And I don't feel any sort of resentment towards her hypocrisy at all because I am genuinely glad that I put a smile on her face and fuck yeah I'll get dolled up again and make everybody else's fat greasy awkward Pokemon kids look bad at any party she wants me to if it means that much to her. That is Tiger Mom love. Ya'll have to understand it.

That's just the small stuff and as miserable as it can be, those are the types of things that I love most about her. She's easy to please because her expectations are simple. She wants a pretty, smart, successful daughter. Her smiles and happiness are something that I've always felt like I've had to earn, and when I do get them, they are so rewarding, so valuable to me.
But lately I've been threatening her security on the "success" part, and the smiles and happiness are rare, they've been replaced by an ever-present furrowed brow, a concerned look on her face, she can't stop herself from flipping out on me, putting me down, doing whatever she can to remind me that she's worried and that she has reason to worry, and Tiger Mom is spinning out of control. It hurts me to see her that way and I hate myself for causing her so much pain, not to mention how much I hate already myself just from the words that come out of her mouth, then I want to hate her for making me hate myself. We have some things we need to iron out.