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A Happy Kind of Sad
6 years ago
Hey,
Something recently made me think about writing another journal here. Honestly, I am fully willing to put everything out there -- all the details of my life up to this point -- except I don't have the motivation to do so. When I say that, I could be talking about something like how a college student might not have the motivation to cook for him or herself, so they just buy some microwavable meals and make due. I don't have some kind of depression stopping me from expressing myself. (The whole reason I wrote this was so people wouldn't get me wrong, as I know not a few other artists have problems with motivation and it can be easy to misread written text).
The reason I'm willing to share so openly is it's a good place to vent, not having a private journal for myself. Even if someone recognized me from this site, they wouldn't exactly bring it up -- "Wait, how'd you find this? ...It was, well... a furry porn site?"
Enough rambling. I can't remember if I've already shared this with you guys here, but this is what happened and how I felt:
After looking at some furry art (I'm not sure if I have to be PG in journals or if I can talk about, say, masturbation here, but it doesn't matter right now), I looked at Reddit's /r/eyebleach. Scrolling through the posts, I found one about a girl who just got admitted to her dream master's program. She kept it a secret from her parents up until now. The video ended after both her mom and her dad hugging her.
It made me wish that my mom could get just as excited for me. My mom's in a care center with something like early onset dementia (more like catatonia, but I can't remember the specifics).
It sucks and I know I should feel sad. I probably do on some deeper level, but that's a whole mess for some other journal. I also thought about how things are sorting out for me for college -- which is another mess for yet another journal -- and generally caused a semi-familiar sequence of emotions to roll over me. I showered and got ready for bed, as I needed to get up for technical college in the morning, then decided to write this journal.
I'll give you a summary of my life that isn't as short as my last journal.
I grew up the youngest of four. I had a knack for school, being able to get straight "A"s with little effort outside of the classroom. What's more, my dad was probably within the top 1% of income in the USA, but I honestly didn't know. I thought we lived pretty modestly; we just happened to have a pool and a big TV when most other families I knew didn't. Besides, everyone in our neighborhood had a bigger house!
Up until I got to college, I thought I would be a mathematician. I lived in a world of logic and loved it. But when college came, I had to know how to study. I hadn't really done that before, while figuring out how wasn't any easier.
Outside of that, my dad had developed cancer a few years prior. While he found a clinical trial that brought him to complete remission, the treatment he received was brand new. Under the law, he had a terminal illness and was considered permanently disabled.
This worked in my favor: my dad was retired early due to disability, which made college very cheap. But later on, my mom's mental health started to worsen. To help pay for my mom's care, my dad withdrew from his savings; due to the regulations behind these bank accounts, this counted as taxable income. My financial aid went south, making college triple in price for me.
After having the tuition adjusted -- "Hey! My dad's still retired, he isn't making any money!" -- college tuition sat at about twice what we were planning on (and the college I went to -- near the top in the nation for mathematics -- wasn't cheap). Faced with the decision to spend $40k for a year of college or find something else to do, I chose the later option. I had spent a good amount of effort connecting with the academic support groups around campus, but it just wasn't working out for me. The worst I did was flunk (general) class and get two Cs in my math classes, but I felt that if I was paying $40k per year, the college should have the right resources to help me out. While I didn't blame them, I knew I wasn't likely to get the value I needed out of it.
Faced with the alternative, I decided to look into what laser cutters and 3D printers had to offer. It was something that fascinated me during my freshman year of college when mathematics lost its glamour.
*****
"But Multispatial_Rending, how'd you become a furry?"
I was never very social. Rather, I was never very proactive in being social. I talked with people, got along with others, and even made friends at school or scouts or other organized activities, but after elementary school I guess I dropped the whole "going over to one another's houses" thing. That was part of the reason.
I'd say the other part was that my family is religious, oddly enough. I spent a lot of time on flash game websites. I can remember the banner ads with girls in swimming suits asking me to click on them; I thought it was weird. As what I can only call my emerging sexuality developed, I was turned away from looking at pictures of girls. Looking at pictures of guys didn't have any attraction for me, either.
I don't quite know how it happened, but I found the furry community. I know I spent time googling random things on the computer, so it makes sense that I could stumble across it like I did. But because I ran into -- who was it, justin Fox? Someone on DeviantArt with a white, very muscular fox that I believe was named Justin -- anyway, because I ran into pictures of muscular fox men with their swimming suits on, I wasn't turned away like I was with straight-up porn. I didn't suspect a thing.
I don't think I need to go into detail about how that turned into masturbation.
I realize that there is more to this story, but I've already answered the question of how I became a furry. Perhaps some other time.
*****
That feels like a weird note to close a journal on, so I'm trying to think of something else to share.
I won a smash tourney last weekend. That was fun. Ever since I gave my Nintendo Switch away to my brother in law as a wedding present, I've gotten deep into Magic: the Gathering. (Ironically, I gave the switch away to develop a work ethic and, to a lesser degree, to spend less money on video games. Hahahahaha.) For winning it, I got a $20 card. That felt nice.
I've started playing DnD recently. Now, the weeks can't go by fast enough! I barely know what I'm doing, but my DM told me to try to homebrew so I did. Reddit laughed at me. I filled the week since then by playing MTG, designing stuff for DnD with my newbie CAD skills, and trying to adjust my character's abilities. This is outside of attending technical college for something like 30 hours a week.
My family is very close. I'm fortunate in that regard. My three older siblings, myself, and my parents have a weekly video chat to catch up about what's new with everyone. While it can be inconvenient, I don't think I've ever wanted to skip the call.
My apartment is ok. There's no proper kitchen (a plug-in hot plate for cooking and the bathroom sink for dishes :3), the wifi is fast enough but disconnects me just frequently enough to make gaming inconvenient, the heat keeps me warm enough so I'm not uncomfortable (but not comfortable), and the hot water is just enough to take a not-quite-there-yet warm bath. BUT the location is perfect and the rent is cheap. The landlady is not professional -- it's a room in her basement, which she has converted into 3 apartments with a common room and bath -- so it's not like she's being a slumlord. She's rather quite the adorable little grandma.
*****
My mind is usually occupied by thoughts of whatever I'm doing, but given empty time I know I subconsciously worry about being successful in life. I think about what I want from life, what I want to do in life, what I think about God and religion, etc.
I enjoy doing things well. If I'm confident about how well I can do something, I'll thrive. Conversely, I start to crumble internally if I don't think I can do well at something.
I like puns, but only good ones. I'm not going to get into the details, as I'm sure it wouldn't be something interesting to read :)
*****
It's amazing how fast an hour can pass! Goodnight!
Something recently made me think about writing another journal here. Honestly, I am fully willing to put everything out there -- all the details of my life up to this point -- except I don't have the motivation to do so. When I say that, I could be talking about something like how a college student might not have the motivation to cook for him or herself, so they just buy some microwavable meals and make due. I don't have some kind of depression stopping me from expressing myself. (The whole reason I wrote this was so people wouldn't get me wrong, as I know not a few other artists have problems with motivation and it can be easy to misread written text).
The reason I'm willing to share so openly is it's a good place to vent, not having a private journal for myself. Even if someone recognized me from this site, they wouldn't exactly bring it up -- "Wait, how'd you find this? ...It was, well... a furry porn site?"
Enough rambling. I can't remember if I've already shared this with you guys here, but this is what happened and how I felt:
After looking at some furry art (I'm not sure if I have to be PG in journals or if I can talk about, say, masturbation here, but it doesn't matter right now), I looked at Reddit's /r/eyebleach. Scrolling through the posts, I found one about a girl who just got admitted to her dream master's program. She kept it a secret from her parents up until now. The video ended after both her mom and her dad hugging her.
It made me wish that my mom could get just as excited for me. My mom's in a care center with something like early onset dementia (more like catatonia, but I can't remember the specifics).
It sucks and I know I should feel sad. I probably do on some deeper level, but that's a whole mess for some other journal. I also thought about how things are sorting out for me for college -- which is another mess for yet another journal -- and generally caused a semi-familiar sequence of emotions to roll over me. I showered and got ready for bed, as I needed to get up for technical college in the morning, then decided to write this journal.
I'll give you a summary of my life that isn't as short as my last journal.
I grew up the youngest of four. I had a knack for school, being able to get straight "A"s with little effort outside of the classroom. What's more, my dad was probably within the top 1% of income in the USA, but I honestly didn't know. I thought we lived pretty modestly; we just happened to have a pool and a big TV when most other families I knew didn't. Besides, everyone in our neighborhood had a bigger house!
Up until I got to college, I thought I would be a mathematician. I lived in a world of logic and loved it. But when college came, I had to know how to study. I hadn't really done that before, while figuring out how wasn't any easier.
Outside of that, my dad had developed cancer a few years prior. While he found a clinical trial that brought him to complete remission, the treatment he received was brand new. Under the law, he had a terminal illness and was considered permanently disabled.
This worked in my favor: my dad was retired early due to disability, which made college very cheap. But later on, my mom's mental health started to worsen. To help pay for my mom's care, my dad withdrew from his savings; due to the regulations behind these bank accounts, this counted as taxable income. My financial aid went south, making college triple in price for me.
After having the tuition adjusted -- "Hey! My dad's still retired, he isn't making any money!" -- college tuition sat at about twice what we were planning on (and the college I went to -- near the top in the nation for mathematics -- wasn't cheap). Faced with the decision to spend $40k for a year of college or find something else to do, I chose the later option. I had spent a good amount of effort connecting with the academic support groups around campus, but it just wasn't working out for me. The worst I did was flunk (general) class and get two Cs in my math classes, but I felt that if I was paying $40k per year, the college should have the right resources to help me out. While I didn't blame them, I knew I wasn't likely to get the value I needed out of it.
Faced with the alternative, I decided to look into what laser cutters and 3D printers had to offer. It was something that fascinated me during my freshman year of college when mathematics lost its glamour.
*****
"But Multispatial_Rending, how'd you become a furry?"
I was never very social. Rather, I was never very proactive in being social. I talked with people, got along with others, and even made friends at school or scouts or other organized activities, but after elementary school I guess I dropped the whole "going over to one another's houses" thing. That was part of the reason.
I'd say the other part was that my family is religious, oddly enough. I spent a lot of time on flash game websites. I can remember the banner ads with girls in swimming suits asking me to click on them; I thought it was weird. As what I can only call my emerging sexuality developed, I was turned away from looking at pictures of girls. Looking at pictures of guys didn't have any attraction for me, either.
I don't quite know how it happened, but I found the furry community. I know I spent time googling random things on the computer, so it makes sense that I could stumble across it like I did. But because I ran into -- who was it, justin Fox? Someone on DeviantArt with a white, very muscular fox that I believe was named Justin -- anyway, because I ran into pictures of muscular fox men with their swimming suits on, I wasn't turned away like I was with straight-up porn. I didn't suspect a thing.
I don't think I need to go into detail about how that turned into masturbation.
I realize that there is more to this story, but I've already answered the question of how I became a furry. Perhaps some other time.
*****
That feels like a weird note to close a journal on, so I'm trying to think of something else to share.
I won a smash tourney last weekend. That was fun. Ever since I gave my Nintendo Switch away to my brother in law as a wedding present, I've gotten deep into Magic: the Gathering. (Ironically, I gave the switch away to develop a work ethic and, to a lesser degree, to spend less money on video games. Hahahahaha.) For winning it, I got a $20 card. That felt nice.
I've started playing DnD recently. Now, the weeks can't go by fast enough! I barely know what I'm doing, but my DM told me to try to homebrew so I did. Reddit laughed at me. I filled the week since then by playing MTG, designing stuff for DnD with my newbie CAD skills, and trying to adjust my character's abilities. This is outside of attending technical college for something like 30 hours a week.
My family is very close. I'm fortunate in that regard. My three older siblings, myself, and my parents have a weekly video chat to catch up about what's new with everyone. While it can be inconvenient, I don't think I've ever wanted to skip the call.
My apartment is ok. There's no proper kitchen (a plug-in hot plate for cooking and the bathroom sink for dishes :3), the wifi is fast enough but disconnects me just frequently enough to make gaming inconvenient, the heat keeps me warm enough so I'm not uncomfortable (but not comfortable), and the hot water is just enough to take a not-quite-there-yet warm bath. BUT the location is perfect and the rent is cheap. The landlady is not professional -- it's a room in her basement, which she has converted into 3 apartments with a common room and bath -- so it's not like she's being a slumlord. She's rather quite the adorable little grandma.
*****
My mind is usually occupied by thoughts of whatever I'm doing, but given empty time I know I subconsciously worry about being successful in life. I think about what I want from life, what I want to do in life, what I think about God and religion, etc.
I enjoy doing things well. If I'm confident about how well I can do something, I'll thrive. Conversely, I start to crumble internally if I don't think I can do well at something.
I like puns, but only good ones. I'm not going to get into the details, as I'm sure it wouldn't be something interesting to read :)
*****
It's amazing how fast an hour can pass! Goodnight!
