Moving Boxes

     Okay, no, I'm not moving any actual boxes - nor am I actually moving. Actually, I have already "moved" - blogs, that is! Assuming you're reading this post, though, that news does not come as surprise.
     Admittedly, it has been a long time since I last posted anything new. I highly doubt that, for people reading this, this is the only way that they learn anything about my life, but I figure I can sum up the last four and a half months simply for the sake of summing it up.
     I have been working hard at school, for one! I'm taking one AP class, two honors classes, and an ACT prep class and my regular level classes, in addition to being in the Symphonic Orchestra, which I've discussed before. It's been really busy - or, well, it would be, if I had a work ethic worth anything. For the record, I'm working on it!
     I have also grown stronger in my faith. I've been attending Confirmation classes at St. James Catholic Church in Liberty, and I've gone to church as much as I can - though, honestly, I could be better. All Catholics could all be better, though, couldn't we? Either way, I think that what matters is that I'm trying. For Lent, especially, since I failed abysmally at both of the sacrifices I gave up, I've been trying to follow a daily reading plan on an app called Olive Tree Bible Study. If I can't give up something, I figure I can take something on - even then, though, I'm not too good at it.
     Basically -- in the last few months, I've been working on improving myself and being a better student and a better Catholic.
     I am intending on posting more here - reflecting on my life, posting about my favorite things, and just keeping track of my life and memories so, ideally, I can look back at this blog in a few years and think - what the hell was I on about? 

Asking for Help

This post was originally published on my old site, Catholic Butch, on November 4, 2018.

          I truly and sincerely believe that the strongest, bravest thing you can do in any aspects of your life - spiritual, mental, physical - is asking for help. Getting through difficult and taxing situations by yourself might give you a sense of independence, that you don't need other people to get through tough parts of your life. That isn't true, I don't think. I believe that humans are wired to be communal creatures. We live, breathe, work, eat with others, among others. We love. We sing, we laugh. We survive with the help of other people. Even those practicing self-subsistence exchange helpful tips and tricks with others who are doing the same. 

          We get along with the help of other people. That's the whole reason people have therapists, or psychologists, or counselors. When traveling into the unknown, we band together with those we have things in common with. We form enclaves within cities like New York City, like Los Angeles. We make Little Italys and Chinatowns and hundreds of others like them.

          We pray, to those with stronger faiths than ourselves. Catholics pray to God, we pray to the saints for guidance.

          A large part of my struggle in terms of mental health and spiritual health comes in that - praying for guidance, not just in asking to do well on a math test. Once, when I was crying my eyes out for some reason or another, I typed out the words 'prayers for depression'.

          I couldn't find it in me to follow through with any of the prayers. I think I have the exact opposite problem of what hubris is, which I think is not thinking yourself worthy to ask for help from God or any witnesses to holiness. It's just something I need to get better at. It's not as if there's a line of importance where God sorts His prayer requests - even if you think something's stupid, or dumb, it's always worth it to ask.

          The cover photo of this post is a bear. There's a reason behind that - I didn't just choose it randomly. My favorite podcast is The Adventure Zone - an actual-play Dungeons and Dragons podcast in which the McElroy family goes through youngest brother Griffin's storylines. In The Adventure Zone, there's a situation where the human fighter character Magnus Burnsides gets in a fight with a Kodiak bear, who acts as his mentor for a short while. A chimpanzee watches the fight, and acts as a sort of moderator - his name is used as a sort of safe word. The following exchange occurs:

          Royal Bear: Magnus! What is strength! What is the first thing I told you when you           

          came in here!

          Magnus: [anguished noise] Ask for help!

          Griffin: He leans in again and you hear another pop, and you don’t even know where 

          that came from, but it hurt like hell. 

          Magnus: Chimpanzee!

          Royal Bear: Strength is a tool, Magnus, it’s a commodity. You can spend it, and spend 

          it, but everyone’s got some, and lots of folks are gonna have more than you. But if you 

          ask for it, Magnus, other folks’ strength can become your own. That is what strength is, 

          Magnus. Who gives you strength, how willing are you to ask for it? Pride and glory are 

          the enemies of true strength, Magnus.

          As dorky as it sounds, this scene is one of my favorites. The podcast as a whole is hilarious, at times confusing and downright disturbing, but it overall has a good message and wonderful story telling.

          My point, through all of this, is 'don't be afraid to ask for help'. Don't be afraid to ask for help from your parents, from a trusted adult (this point is for both non-adults and actual-adults), from your friends, or from a professional trained to deal with your problems. If you refuse to ask for help, you're not making yourself tougher - you're just making things harder. Stubbornness can be a double edged sword. It's not always bad, but it's not always good either. 

          Don't let your pride and glory get in the way of your health and livelihood. 

Losing a Pet

This post was originally published on my old site, Catholic Butch, on October 30, 2018.
A quick warning before reading this post: it contains mentions of animal death. If this is something that upsets you, I recommend treading lightly or skipping this post altogether.
I have grown up surrounded from dogs. When I was born, I was born into a home with people who adored, cared for, and lived alongside dogs.. My household dog count has never fallen below two for as long as I can remember.

I am also an incredibly emotional person. Now, that might be my cross to bear, or it might just be a symptom of being a teenager. I don't know right now, and I'll either figure it out eventually or it'll be a mystery forever.
I only mention those two facts about me in that order because today we let my oldest dog, Sarge, go. He was twelve years old when he was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma in July, and he had had arthritis for a long time beforehand. For as long as I can remember, he was a stubborn, silly, goofy, ornery, loving asshole of a dog. He got into more fights than the rest of our dogs - probably because he started most of them.

His cancer only got worse after his diagnosis as the mass on the back of his back leg kept growing. It made it harder for him to walk around and he became restless, trying to walk around even when the cancer refused to let him.

As he adapted to his struggles, I struggled with his inevitable loss. I choked back tears whenever I saw him struggling to climb up the stairs. I even had a dream involving St. Francis of Assisi appearing to me and my causing Sarge to be Thanos-snapped out of existence. That dream made me stubbornly believe that his time would come within the next few days - but, since that was at the end of August, I would say my premonition was incorrect.

I loved that dog. I loved him so, so much. Using the past tense in reference to him doesn't feel right - I still love him. We all did, and do love Sarge.

I don't have much more to say past that. I just urge all of you reading this to love your dogs while you have them. They might be complete assholes, but appreciate them for what they are - a life, a roommate, a best friend. Take every single second you have with them as a blessing, and occasionally just spend some time brushing their fur and spending simple time with them. They'll appreciate it.

x

16th Birthday Reflections

This post was originally published on my old site, CatholicButch, on October 30, 2018. 

Guess what - it's official! I'm sixteen years old. A lot has happened this past year - some good, and some bad. Heartbreaks and friendship failures were bountiful, but so were successes and victory.

The first memorable thing I can remember post-turning fifteen was my girlfriend of 3 months breaking up with me. I struggled with this for a long time - maybe it was just a symptom of running too quickly, headfirst, into young love, or maybe it was how sudden it was. But from that, I learned this - there are always people who love you. It might not be romantic love, but it is still love. During my time at Notre Dame Vision, a Catholic youth conference, I learned that the act of loving another person is to wish good will upon them. If you use that definition of love, a lot of people love you and you love a lot of people.

I also learned, this year, that any relationship can be salvaged. Even if it's your fault that a friendship fell apart because of something you said because you were feeling something at that moment - just apologize. It might not completely resurrect a relationship, because you still said and did those things in the moment, but it shows the other person that you're putting forth the effort. Don't expect forgiveness, but also don't take it for granted.

A great thing that happened this year was that I joined an ever-growing friend group that I love and adore. They are the funniest, most talented and supportive group of people I know and I am grateful for them every single day.

I also made it into Symphonic Orchestra! For those who don't know, symphonic is the "advanced" group between the concert and symphonic orchestras at my school, and it takes an audition to get in. It's definitely a challenge for me, which is a good thing for sure! I also got a 2 in my solo for district festival, which is on a scale with 1 being the best you can do and I think 4 is the worst. Playing the violin is one of my passions that I hope to carry long into my future.

I have also grown in my faith quite a lot. I have learned to trust in God's plan for me, and to try to see Him in others - both in their actions and their words. I have learned to take the bad things that happen in my life as lessons, not as punishments. Instead of, "this happened because I did something bad", I try to see it as "this happened because I needed to learn ___".

That way of thinking doesn't help for every single thing. Sometimes things just happen because people are assholes and shit just happens. But for the things that can fit under that way of thinking, it helps a lot.