So I actually started thinking recently that perhaps instead of an expensive, 10 year school venture to become a Naturopathic Doctor, that perhaps I would look into my original life passions that have been long lost: music and performing.
It has always been a love of mine, but impractical careers, and even post-secondary of any kind was discouraged to me growing up, so I had to stop thinking about school completely. Now that I've been breaking into the idea of actually going and doing what I love, I am thinking about catching up on some things I've lost. Unfortunately, not starting things when I was younger is going to make doing things when I'm older a lot more difficult.
I often defend why my mother took the standpoint that she did, but I am realizing more and more just how impressionable I was when I was younger. Her negativity stemmed from fear and protection of the only thing she had left, among other things; I knew that. I hated it when I was around it though, and often wondered why simple answers to things never worked. There was always a reason why something couldn't be.
I don't know if it was before or after she passed away that I thought about it, but I realized at one point that pretty much everything I believed at the time is what my mom's opinions were. When I was younger I thought I had pretty independent thoughts, and in fact was aware of a couple of things (key words: "a couple") that I disagreed with her upon. What I didn't realize is what little control I actually had, or practiced, on my own mind, and how brainwashed I actually was.
More and more as time goes on, I realize the negativity was like a poison to me, that, now four years after her passing, is still deeply rooted in my head and feeds on my hopes and dreams and happiness. And it has caused damage that had never even occurred to me would happen before, damage to the past, and an even scarier thought, to the future. I always knew that how your parents raised you affects the rest of your life, and as a teen, it made me angry at my mom because I felt I was doomed to be fucked up because of how she was and I resented it. The thing was, I was afraid of it being true, so I chalked it up to teen angst that just wanted someone to blame my problems on. I didn't even start to think about the details of it though. Or at least didn't foresee them.
I feel like I have been programmed to act the way I do now, and desperately want to be rewired. Since I got used to living the way I did with my mom, I figured it was normal and the way that made the most sense. It's not a subject that comes up that often with people, so I've just gone about my business being the way I am. I figured I was just being sensible...that's normal, right? Well, not as much as I thought it was. I suppose I've always known this, but it takes on a whole other demention when someone else says it to you. When it's your own thoughts, it's easier to ignore and pass off as yourself being silly. But when it comes from the outside, it gives you something to think about.
Take a recent conversation I had (or many, but for simplicity's sake we'll just pretend we're referring to "a" conversation), which clearly demonstrates this "negativity virus" controlling my brain. I say it that way because the more aware of it I become, the more it seems like an entirely separate entity to me that brainwashes me and tells me what to do and say without me even being conscious of it. Anyway, I was having what I thought was a normal conversation, talking about things I was planning and wanting to do and whatnot. It was generally positive, and then almost as an involuntary response, my brain made me start talking about everything negative in my way and all the things that stood in the way of my plans. Just like my mom always did.
I wasn't even aware of myself doing it until I was called out on it. At first I was hurt, because I thought I was just telling it like it is. I didn't feel like I was being negative, I figured I was just mentioning the things I needed to do in order to get to what I wanted to do, and that it made sense to mention them while I was discussing the topic. For a short time after that day, I was confused as to why I wasn't that well understood.
Like I said before, I was always aware that I was the way I was, only I didn't fully understand the seriousness of it. But when I look at negativity as a separate entity to myself, it helps me see the outside looking in point of view that I was being told about. I look back on that conversation and realize that I was doing something without even being aware of it, and now that I see what it is, I don't quite know why I defended myself so much. Then, and other times. It just doesn't make sense now. But I'm glad to have reached a point where I could notice it.
But I originally opened this post to talk about music, which unfortunately is going to involve me talking about something that's standing in my way. I know it defies the point of what I was just talking about, but it relates to other things I mentioned, so I want to talk about it anyway.
As I mentioned, I want to do what I really love and am passionate about. Despite being a shy kid, that has always involved performing, especially for music. I decided to take a gander into what getting into music school would entail. I knew before, but forgot that pretty much no one except the talented can even get into these things. It makes no sense. Many other university level studies are offered for leisure, why not music? I don't get it.
And then it brought on a horrible memory. Something that I got upset at my mom for at the time, but was also my own fault. Recently while chatting with Jane from the music store, I started thinking of a memory of when I was in grade 6 and got the opportunity to participate in a city-wide project and sing Beethoven's 9th (my favourite composer AND favourite symphony) with the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra. Nothing I have ever done since has made me feel so much joy as when singing with that choir, sounding like angels, with a big, loud, beautiful orchestra playing with us. It was an exhilarating feeling I have no words to describe.
I got a similar rush when I was in band in junior high. One of the most fantastic things I ever got to do was play the William Tell Overture. Most people remember that piece as a cheesy score often used in Western-themed shows and such. But by God, playing that was the most fun I ever had in band. I loved being able to play. I loved the clarinet and was good at it. When I was in elementary school I gave up recorder club to be able to go out and play with my friends at lunchtime, and a part of me always regretted that. So it felt good to be a part of music again.
But I only got to enjoy it for one year. We couldn't afford the instrument rentals. We were offered a cheaper rate by the school, but still couldn't do it. At least as far as I remember. When it came time to register for band for grade 8, my mom told me that I would have to switch to art instead (At our jr. high you had an elective to choose between art and band class. Usually the dumb kids picked art).
She had also been concerned about me having breath control issues, which I'm not sure if it stemmed from motherly protection of a child that had a history of bronchitis, or the fact that I practiced quietly while at home which she had questioned me about. I did actually practice quietly, but there were also a lot of times that I didn't practice and she noticed. And got mad. True, I did sometimes struggle with getting enough air in my lungs to play or being out of breath, and though it got cumulatively tiresome after a lot of practice, I didn't consider it an issue. What I did use it for though, was something to say when my mom got mad at me when she started suspecting I wasn't playing as much as I said I did. At least I think I would have said something like that. I said a lot of things to protect my ass back then. (Reason #1 why this is my fault.)
So along with the "we can't afford this" reason, she also told me to tell the school I was having problems with being short of breath. I was really saddened by this. I had to bring the message to my teacher to let them know. I think there were a few back and forth messages between the school and my mom, but this one day I had to give the final notice. I don't remember exactly how it happened, but I know that at one point someone offered to give me the instrument rental for less, and I had to keep telling them we couldn't afford it. I think at one point they said they'd look into doing it for free. My memory is really fuzzy on this. I don't remember if I told my mom and she said no anyway, or if I assumed that she wouldn't want any more trouble from the school and so I endorsed the "it's hard for me to breathe" thing to them. (Reason #2 why this is my fault.) Very reluctantly, they took me out of the program.
After talking to Jane and thinking about the enjoyment I got out of being involved in music, I decided to look up school prerequisites out of curiosity today. I expressed my annoyance at the requirements with Owen. I was like, geez. I said something to the effect of, "All I need is grade 12 sciences to get into a program to be a doctor, but I need to be a fucking prodigy to study music?" Among other things, he said, well yeah, but just like you need biology to get into being a doctor, you need at least the same equivalent for music school, and you don't have high school level for that. He said a bunch of other practical things that discouraged and annoyed me, which I won't get into, but at the same time he had a point.
If I had kept at band for the rest of junior high, I might have continued it in high school. (Then again, there were other things I didn't take in high school because I tried to avoid being in classes with kids that would pick on me--probably also reason #3--but this is just hypothetical.) If I had high school music, I'm not sure, but I might have maybe enough experience and/or knowledge to apply to post-secondary music school. Or at least the inspiration to get more experience.
This brings me back to the whole virus thing. The fear of getting in trouble (and thus exaggerating things) and the ingrained idea that I would never be able to afford anything ("It's a viscious cycle that you'll never get out of. Once a welfare kid, always a welfare kid" was something to the effect of what I heard a lot in my house), or do anything creative in my life ("What are you going to to, spend thousands of dollars on an arts degree that you can't get a practical job out of? Artists don't make money." or, "You're not talented anyway. So what you're good at school. You get good grades because you work hard at it, not because it's natural. You spend hours on your homework."), has caused a problem for me, up to 12 years after the fact. Who would have foreseen that in grade 7? By the way, those quotes are approximate, but roughly how I perceived them. I never even said I wanted an arts degree. It was just something I remember her saying.
And I'm not even really saying that going to music or performing school is for sure something I want to do now. But looking that stuff up today, and being discouraged by "practicality" again, just made me think of all this junk. And then I start writing, and tangent after tangent happens. And here I'm talking about being less negative. Sheesh. But I do know I'm one step closer to improvement now. Being acutely aware of the issue is the first step to getting rid of it. Hopefully ranting about things on the internet is another, otherwise I've been wasting a crapload of my time. :P
Oh well. It's still good to write again. It has been helping, in some way or another. I think. Yeah. I dunno, I'm tired now.
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