Inner battle

Hi,

   Recently I've been talking to this guy a lot(gmailchat) and he is kind of depressed. I consider him a friend, because I like to consider everyone my friend...everyone may not consider me a friend but that's their decision(: So I've been trying to help him in every way shape or form possible this summer, we've even video chatted because he "needed to really talk to someone". Well yeah, there are a lot of things that I want to say, but I don't want to say anything that will make it worse or be hurtful to him, so I carefully pick out what I'm going to say. This takes a lot of effort, but some drive inside of me makes me do it. I don't like him (ya know) but I just can't help but... Want to help him. The only confusing thing about this is that this is a guy. And I usually deal with depressed girls, not depressed guys. Girls pretend like they're okay, but sometimes they post things on social media like hinting that they're not okay, in my opinion  it's looking for attention and getting sympathy or it's a good way to let others know how you really feel, so they really know you. It really depends on tons of circumstances to tell if its good or bad. But that's what girls do. Or they play the whole "I'm fine" game. That statement will 99%of the time mean that they are not fine. I feel like saying those words automatically means that they're telling you that they aren't. It's like this amazing secret code between us girls. Girls also may deny it, but they at least want someone there, who cares, someone to talk to that checks up on them, that sais "hi" first. 

      But that's girls. I have no clue what guys are like. Do they want someone to be there? Is it awkward if its a girl? Do they want someone to at least try to help them? What is it like? Of course, I've learned a bunch about this stuff from him now. But I'm still confused. Basically, I've been supposing he wants kind of what a girl wants, I say hi a lot and ask him how he is doing just about everyday. I type up little inspirational speeches at least twice a week. I tell him that I'm still trying because I care. 

 

    But it isn't going well. 

     He tells me I'm wasting my time, that nothing will work. He even refuses to read the paragraphs upon paragraphs of inspiration and motivation and such that I've written. Well I guess you can lead a horse to water... But you can't make it drink. He keeps telling me to stop trying, like he's mad at me. I feel bad, but something inside me makes me keep trying. Doesn't he want someone to at least care? And then the next day he tells me stuff like "thank you for all you've done to help me" and the day after that he's telling me to stop again. I feel annoying, pestering, up in his business. This has nothing to do with me, why do I just have to get myself involved? I just can't stop, I can't stand seeing a person feeling like this. It just breaks my heart. Every time he tells me to stop, I just have to keep trying, something inside of me is refusing to give up on this person. But maybe I'm doing the wrong thing. Maybe I'm making it worse. Maybe I'm just giving him the sympathy and help that I never got. But that was because I didn't tell anyone until Liza. But that's another story.  

        So all in all, I know this post is nothing compared to my last one (read it!) but it's just something that's been on my mind. Something is just making me not give up on this person. This must be happening for a reason, maybe this is a test for me. I think I'm fighting an inner battle to figure out if I am doin the right thing not giving up, or if I'm being nosy and annoying and up in his business. I guess we'll see.  It's not as dramatic as I may make it seem, but how you interpret all I say is personalized to you. Think and find symbolism in everyday life. Help other people out, be the person that is always there for everyone, and don't forget to look after yourself too. 

Stella and Steve

Hi,
   (reading previous posts would be helpful) Probably the biggest things (with a huge purpose and affect) in my life that most people would see as a normal thing in nature are Stella and Steve. They literally kept me going everyday, kept me optimistic, kept me smiling. I loved them so much I almost cry thinking about them. Well I guess I should tell you the story of these amazing butterflies.

It all started in fifth grade. I had always been amused with butterflies, but I had never really paid notice them before. All through elementary school I walked to school everyday with some of my friends through two small canyons. The canyons were one of the most amazing things that have ever happened to me. In the canyons I could be a horse, sprinting free, or a dragon, flying into the sky. I was a wizard casting spells and causing problems. I was a princess, ruling my beautiful lands. There was something magical in those canyons, something that triggered imagination, and lots of it. I had the best memories there. It was so much fun to play like that. After that I was able to be whatever I wanted to be, wherever I wanted to be. Usually in my backyard that I would search in everyday for a secret portal to an unknown world where I would actually be living in the wondrous things that I had imagined up in my un-proportional head. But even in that head of mine, it sure did feel real. One of the worst parts of my life was when I started to take notice to the real world, it was awkward to play and talk to my imaginary friends; I was growing up. But I was too stubborn to stop, I was able to do things just in my head. And then fifth grade came up. It was growing hard for me to play and imagine. But I still did sometimes, with my friends, just for giggles.

  It must have started in the beginning of the year. (By year I mean school year as in August. It's kind of amazing how our brains work from the whole school thing. By years I mean school years, by end of the day I mean 2:27 when school ends, by morning I mean 6:00 when I have to get up, and I literally live on a weekly basis, looking forward to the weekend.) We would walk home, like normal, mostly fifth graders, a few littler kids like fourth and third graders who lived in the neighborhood. Our group consisted of Me, Alanna (bff), Courtney, Brittany, Connor (sometimes. I had a crush on him I think. Oh little fifth grade me...), Milt (weird yet he was extremely hilarious then), Euan (fourth grader), and sometimes Mitchell (obnoxious evil third grader and brother of Courtney). Fffinallllyyy, we were trusted by our parents to walk alone, as in without them awkwardly stalking us.
    

   I'm not sure when we started noticing them, but all I know is that I made a connection immediately. I admired how Stella flew without a care in the world, the most graceful thing you will ever see in your whole entire life. She would tease Milt as he would try to catch her. It was like she was talking to us. Or maybe playing with us. Or just doing what she did, making me happy. She had a companion of course. We figured it was a boy and she was a girl, I don't know I guess it was just instinct. He flew more cautiously, afraid and unsure, yet admiring of Stella. It was just beautiful, to watch them. It made me happy, it made me think. I don't know how it affected the other people in our group, they were connected a little too, but I don't think as much as I was. I was the one who named them. I've never forgotten about them.
       It was probably after about a week of seeing the butterflies everyday at the one spot in the canyon where the tree had fallen, but most of the remains were cleaned up the main part of the tree lay there in the grass (which was only green during the month or two of rainy spring.) There were other trees still standing nearby, and spiky bushes lining the fence to a house and the path (and slight hill) to exit the canyon. That was where we would see a white butterfly, I don't know why but I named her Mary-Anne-Alice. The canyon's kind of hard to describe. So anyways, after about a week of meeting the butterflies every afternoon walking home, I decided to name them. It just came to me, the names. Probably one of those things that people don't take notice to, but I'm sure the names were meant to be somehow. It all works out like that. "Stella and Steve" I said. They looked at my kind if disapprovingly, especially Alanna, they were probably upset that they didn't really get a say in the names. But that was a good thing, because the butterflies in the other canyon that they named were "Artichoke and Asparagus". I have weird friends. 

       And then things only got better from there, I think little fifth grade Connor started to like little fifth grade me. And I went from feeling kind of alone to being extraordinarily happy getting home from school. Every day we would see Stella and Steve. Everyday they would make me happy, and make me crazy. A lot of the time Stella and Steve would circle each other and fly high into he sky, like they were kissing or something. I sure did love those butterflies. 

      You see, butterflies don't live too long. I'm not sure exactly how long, all I know is that they seemed to go way over time. Months and months they were there. Occasionally they wouldn't be there, and I would get worried, but my friends didn't seem concerned. Alanna used to question me and my imagination then, she would ask if I knew that butterflies don't live long and they probably weren't even the same butterflies everytime. I would deny it. I've never seen a butterfly fly like Stella did everyday, for forever. I didn't care if they cared. 

      After a whike the group would joke about Stella and Steve getting married, and so I don't know how, but we made it happen. A coniencidental thing happened on the day, some people would call it that, but I knew it happened for a reason and it was like the butterflies had minds. About five more of the same kind of butterflies showed up for what we thought must have been the marriage. I loved being a kid. 

      After that, Stella and Steve and the other butterflies that were there the other day were just...gone. We didn't know what to think so we said that they must have gone on a honeymoon. But I couldn't get the thought out of my mind could it be, could my greatest companions have lived their short life through? 

     I was really sad for the next few weeks, they weren't there to greet me everyday anymore. I would think back, back to their beautiful brown bodies, with yellow-gold lining, blue spotted detail along the gold, mourning cloak butterflies they were. I had never seen those kind of butterflies before Stella and Steve. When I was sad, it wasn't just from the butterflies, it was just normal things that would make little me sad, like normal, except the butterflies weren't there anymore to cheer me up. 

But it's not like I was depressed I don't want to see dramatic but I was just a strange child. I just really needed my Stella.

We loved those butterflies and we loved that canyon. They changed us. We needed to give back. One day walking home Milt found this amazing whitish stick with holes in it that we filled with flowers. It was slightly curved and just an awesome stick (we were weird like that). The next day, we refilled the stick with fresh flowers and we found a great place to put it. It balanced perfectly curving upward ontop of the fallen tree branch where we used to see Stella and Steve everyday. It turned into a great idea for a memorial type thing. For the next few weeks after school we would visit the site and freshen it up, add our touches. We took out the dead grass and the weeds in front of the fallen tree in a circle and a line like a pathway from the trail. We gathered a ton of sticks and tied strings attaching them together like a fence. It was a long process jabbing the sticks into the solid ground, we had to go into the scary part of the canyon the get water from a random "pond" (more like sewer) to help soften the ground. I remember freaking out after the yucky water dripped on my hand. Courtney and Brittany were better sports about that. It was mostly us three I don't remember why Alanna couldn't make it most of the time. I had so much fun making that memorial, we got it to look pretty with some flowers we picked all around and white rocks lining the edge of the pathway to the "fenced" area. On the inside of the "fenced" area there was the small tree remains in the back with the amazing stick balancing on it, which we refilled with fresh flowers every few days. Also on the fallen tree we placed two rocks, one stone where we wrote "RIP Stella and Steve, two awesomely cool butterflies" and another rock where I wrote a long, heartfelt note about them, mostly Stella. Sorry Steve. The little "memorial" we made was so amazing it made me happy again. It was pretty.

Maybe a week after the memorial was completed, we saw a mourning cloak butterfly in the other canyon. Alanna named her Camille. Days after that, Mary-Anne-Alice came back in the canyon next to the memorial. And another mourning cloak butterfly would show up literally in the memorial. The butterfly would land near the stick and the rocks, maybe appreciating what we did. I named that butterfly Stella. I felt like it was still her. It was like it wasn't exactly her but it was her. After a bit she started to fly like Stella did. Like no butterfly ever does. So...free. So...graceful. So....beautiful. Stella was back.

After elementary school, Stella started showing up in my backyard. I would watch her all the time. She wouldn't be there all the time. Sometimes. It seemed like it was just when I needed her. It must have been magic. I just knew it was her. It was always her. I see mourning cloak butterflies sometimes and they're not always Stella. But they still make me happy. One showed up in Alanna's backyard on last Thursday. I think it was because the day before I had been very sad. Upset with myself. And I survived that day because Stella showed up in my backyard, made me smile. She's always there for me. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I still have a big story to tell that happened recently.

It was probably two months ago. Stella had been visiting me often. Once, at school, I was walking with my friend, Ashly to ASB (associative student body). I had been having a bad day, I got a B on the math quiz. Most people expect me to get an A. But I was really stressed. I was also having sadness because of a crush I had that made me discouraged. On the way to class right after math, Stella flew in front of me, dangerously close to me, a human, like she does sometimes. I knew it was her. I got that feeling. She flew like only my Stella does. I was so happy, I was beaming for the rest of the day. She had actually visited me at school! At that point I knew this it was confirmed. This was no coincidence. Stella is real. This is like magic. A bit after that, I was walking, a little upset again, and a beautiful butterfly flew by, it wasn't Stella, but gee that butterfly was gorgeous. I cheered up. A week or two after that occurrence, I was walking out of school, alone, I was distressed because Ashly left after I asked to wait for me because Erin or Samantha always drags her away from me. Alanna had left as soon as possible, like always, to wait for me outside the side of school with her band friends and some of our basic friends, ahem ahem mostly josh in her case. They have this romantic thing going on. It makes me jealous. Well anyways, Sophie had left without me too, and she usually waits for me because she sometimes walks home with Alanna and I. Not through the canyons. Just through streets. I felt abandoned by my friends and I think some other sad thing had happened. I was in the middle of the quad, and there came Stella. She seemed to appear out of no where. She flew around me. Flying in the unbelievably beautiful way she always does. She came so close to me I could have reached out and touched her. She only came this close to me. I knew it. Stella was there for me. She will always be there for me. We had this connection that I can never truly explain.



All my hope was lost about a month ago. It was a normal day, I hadn't seen Stella in a few days so I was expecting to see her soon. I think I was in a pretty good mood, walking outside so feed my bunny, when I saw a spiderweb near his cage. It was a pretty big spiderweb, in its usual spot during this time of year. But this time it was a little different. Something didn't feel rift all of the sudden. I saw a spot in the web, and I went closer to investigate, it looked like the spider had wrapped some bug up. As I came closer, as reality hit me with more shock and weight that I had ever felt before, I saw what was in the web. I gasped sounding so hurt and frightened and shocked and heartbroken my mom thought that me bunny was dead or something. But there was my Stella, lifeless, tangled up in that macabre spider's web. I ran inside. My mom and I came back out, she wanted to see. Maybe she is still alive I thougt. Maybe there still is hope. In a panic, I grabbed a stick to poke the web with, but before I could even touch, as I came closer, she started to flutter in the web, in a panic. No Stella stop! I fought back tears as she got herself more tangled in the web. I didn't know what to do, my mom said to tear the web down so I tried to do so without harming her even more but I messed up. I mAde it even worse, it was all my fault. I started crying but I didn't give up, I didn't give up because she wasn't giving up. She never gave up, she never gave up on me or on anything. I was so frantic that my mom started to see how important this was to me and she started to try and remove the web while I sprinted in the house to get scissors. It was the scariest thing, really, seeing her fluttering helplessly on the ground while we tried to cut the webs away. Tears streamed down my face, I had to save her, after all she's done for me. Her wings were nearly broken, one of her antennas was stuck to her feet, a few of her legs were torn off. I held her. I could feel her helplessness. She was trying to get away, kept making it worse by trying to fly. As I held her in my hand, I was able to take it all in, my brain processed what was happening, sure Stella has probably died but I don't know, came back, but this time it was like it was the end. She was in my had. Dying. I was able to notice the fine spots of blue details along her wings, I couldn't say she was beautiful though, everything was messed up, hurt. 

       We did all that we could. Her wings were ripped, several legs missing, I just could bare it. But I was holding her still. I took a deep breath, and then I let go. She was only able to fly for a few seconds before she came tumbling, crashing, falling desperately onto the grass. My mom said to let it go. Go back inside. She got to fly one last time, now she will have to die. 

    I refused. Running to her, I was determined to let her live, she couldn't leave me now. I picked her up again, I talked to her soothingly, I tried to not let my tears land on her helpless wings. I held her up again, hopefully she could get a better start this time. She seemed desperate to get away from me, flying into the bushes. No. I thought. No Stella no! I continued to run over to her, she had to be ok! I grabbed her out of the bushes, I held her for one last time, I smiled, and then for one last time, she flew.  

      I cried as I watched her. She flew until she could make it over the fence. I was crushed that it ended that way. I let her go, she didn't even get to die in my backyard. After I whiled the tears off my face and calmed myself down, I realized that she flew over the fence, maybe because she didn't want me to see her die. I cried again. Cried to sleep, cried to my friends. But I was okay. I lived on. Stella was amazing while I was lucky enough to have her. 

But of course, my Stella never gives up. I was so upset one day, I don't remember why, but I was walking in the other canyon with my neighbors dog. I was about to walk up a little steep hill when I saw something on the ground. It was a shadow. The shadow of a butterfly, the shadow of a lovely, graceful, unmistakable butterfly. The shadow of my Stella. I looked up, she wasn't there. I checked the ground again and there she was, her shadow, but I couldn't find her in the air. It was a magical moment. Something you only hear about. But I experienced it. Her shadow, her spirit, she, but not her body was there. There for me. I was so happy and relieved to see her, or kind of seen her. I started crying, "thank you" I sobbed aloud " thank you so much." Magical. Truly magical.


After that occurrence, Stella continued to visit me like she used to do. She's back and better than ever.


Sooooo all in all (; , even the small things in nature that most people wouldn't even take notice to, have a reason, maybe for you. It's all really beautiful, nature. Sometimes you just have to sit outside and simply take it all in. It's just so amazing. It may seem like I made some of this up, but really, this all really happened. If you can't believe it, than your mind hasn't opened up enough to this way of thinking, normal people can't see the things I see. ( at least I think). And also, I think that the reason that Stella went through the reality death with me is for me to see, that no matter what, she will always be here for me, she's never going to leave me no matter what.

Reminder

I want to remind people that these are just my opinions, and no offense should be taken to them. This is just how I see the world and how I think. This may seem kinda spiritual but I'm actually not at all. Don't judge me by any of this just understand that this is just me, it doesn't have to be you, but you could try it out.

Sometimes it's hard to find a reason.

Hi,
(please read pervious posts to understand) Sometimes it's hard to find a reason for things. Like Cory Montieth dying or Talia Joy Castellano dying. She fought cancer for six years, she was an honorary Cover Girl and a "makeup guru." These things don't strike me personally, personally, but they do get me thinking that this does happen, some people have to wake us up, show us that we shouldn't do drugs like the famous Glee Cory Monteith and that cancer kills. We need to do something about it now. We can mourn these losses because they were great people, but they are just as great as the other people that aren't famous that have to suffer.
So all in all, human society needs to use these tragedies as a wake up call. This is absolutely terrible that this is happening, and we need to do something about it. Bad things will happen in life, but we can't let that stop us, we can't sulk for the rest of our lives, that ruins the purpose.

Sometimes

Hi,
    Today and yesterday (both!) I learned that sometimes the reason for things to happen are because it's like a test or a lesson. It's summertime and drama continues to follow me around! Middle school dating is never a good idea. (My opinion) I didn't date anyone just some of my friends do. Well long story short breakup and depressed guy upset girl. I tried to tell them about my way of seeing the world (please read my previous posts) and tried to get them to like see that this all happened for a reason. I think the reason is so they can learn from this. Maybe it was a test. The relationship didn't really work out at all after a while so I think the breakup needed to happen. This could be a test for them, to see how they would react, to see if they could take this or if they would fall apart at a stupid middle-school breakup. But that was mean. I take that back. I just really don't like middle school dating because like judging by how much drama I get a part of and hear about, middle schoolers (at least sixth and seventh graders) aren't ready for relationships yet.
     I was faced with a test on Wednesday. I gave in and made a big mistake, but afterwards I knew that I would never do it ever again. I decided that I would be happy and stuff. And so I made this blog. I did it to help myself. I needed to share how I feel about the world because I kind of keep to myself. I'm afraid to say about Wednesday because someone I know might read this blog. No one really knows me. Or understands me. Ugh, on Wednesday I cut myself.
     But this is in my past now. Today is a new day, a new beginning, and I feel great.

     So all in all, even the bad things that happen have a reason. You should never sulk because sometimes you just need to get up and go on. Every time you make a mistake you learn a lesson. Sometimes life just has to test you.

Everything Happens for a Reason

Hi,
I want to talk about another way I like to think. Everything happens for a reason. This kind of relates to my earlier post on the difference between why and how (so if you haven't read it yet I highly recommend reading it to help understand.). Now this way of thinking where everything has a reason helps self esteem kinda. It also helps you appreciate all of the small things that people would normally find completely ordinary. But we, we are not ordinary. If you take the time to read this you deserve to try it out. This has helped me so much in life.

This is really hard to explain but take it like this: basically all I"m saying isss: everything happens for a reason. that's it. But everyone's reasons are different. You will find small and big and medium sized things in life that happen for your benefit. Like me riding in the car with my sisters and on of their boyfriends while they blasted the music. I could have ducked under the windows so no one would see me, but I was placed in that situation for a reason, and I learned a life lesson. Instead of hiding so no one would see me, I sang along. It's mostly symbolic. Think about it. I found two other life lessons today, symbolic things that happened. Because everything happens for a reason. 

Now this way of thinking may seem self-centered because you're kind of taking in everything as something to your own benefit, something that happened for you. But technically, this is mostly a mental thing. You might look at a puddle and find its reason for you while someone else might look at the same puddle and find its reason for them. Or finding something symbolic could inspire you to do something that will benefit others by your action that they will interpret a reason for, for them. Yeah,  it gets confusing. But sometimes you just have to lay outside on grass and stare at the sky and think. Sometimes I think so much I literally get a headache. I question everything that science brings. They have no true evidence for anything. But of course, I go along with the whole science thing. Because I have to for school. I've learned to adapt to the school standards stuff without changing the way I think. Like how books are labeled fiction, nonfiction, fantasy, etc. To me. that's all options. Just because those stupid scientists haven't seen unicorns before doesn't mean they don't exist. Scientists can be so stuck-up. Yeah I know I will probably be a scientist when I grow up but I won't be like that. Hopefully I'll follow through with this kind of things. Opinions interest me. And so does, obviously, how each person's brain thinks differently.

But I've gotten side tracked. It happens a lot.


So all in all, if you haven't gotten the point yet, there is a reason behind every little thing in this world. To me, the reasons are a lot of the time just like to make me smile and remember to appreciate the little things. Like when I saw this dog that was overly happy to see me, it was 14 years old and had the amazing energy of a puppy. That dog made me smile. The smile could have been it's purpose/reason.
Also, part of this whole way of thinking is just part of how I like to remain optimistic. Sometimes this optimism kills me in ways but it brought me this far, didn't it? I'm happy with my life and I hate complaining. People can just sit around in a giant pit of self-pity and complaints, or they can get up and do something with their life.

One of my favorite quotes (I'm crazy about good quotes) "There are times in life when, instead of complaining, you do something about your complaints." ~Rita Dove.
This is partially how I became to notice and appreciate the reasons for everything more. I was tired of complaining, I wanted to do something productive. That's just who I am.


Thank you for taking the time to read all of this, your lazyness should never overcome your will power to learn.

The difference between WHY and HOW

Hi,

I created this blog because I was inspired by justlittlethings.net to make a nice kinda inspirational blog that is kind of about my life. Except not. So all my life, I have been bothered by the difference between why and how. To me HOOW means that like the science-ish stuff behind something, yet WHHYY is the reasonnn in the worldddd. Most people don't understand this way of thinking, but I do. I think differently than most people I think. It's a little hard to explain but once you get it, life will be....better. Science won't kill you. 

For example: there is a difference between How is the pizza hot and why  is the pizza hot. The how version's answer in my mind would be because it was in the microwave or something like that.  While the why version's answer would be because I don't like cold pizza.  Get it? That one was a bit complicated. Try this one, it's easier to see the difference. 

how am I here on earth 

why am I here on earth

see the difference?

Now this way of thinking kinda makes things harder for me in the long-run. Like at school. Tons of homework, essay, and test questions include the words why or how. In that case I just have to interpret how my teacher would think. And as you can see, this gets difficult. I had this one teacher whose brain thought completely differently than mine and I struggled with her tests. Luckily, I was eventually able to figure out how she thinks and how she wants the questions answered and how she interprets the questions, so I got an A in the class. Which is expected out of me. 

So all in all, why is my favorite question. It makes me think, why am I here? Why do the leaves change? Now how do the leaves change..it's why. What is the reason for the leaves to change colors.  IT's all different. You can try to get all this and understand, I just want to share how I think. The why's are important, because everything happens for a reason, no matter how strange the reason is.