Hey, Plumpkin!

We carved pumpkins today. And Bella painted a pumpkin and herself. It was fun. I carved mine to say "Okay? Okay." which is a quote from my favorite book by John Green, The Fault in Our Stars. The letters are a little messy, and I messed up the "A", but I love it anyway. It's my favorite plumpkin. 

(And if you know where "Hey, plumpkin!" comes from, you're cool.)

I made a collage because I can. I love plumpkins. Happy Halloween! (in a few days).

Okay? Okay.

Love & Chaos,

Sam

Disappointment

If there's anything I've learned about life in the last twenty years, it's that it can be beautiful, and wonderful, and even magical. But it can also be disappointing.

People are like that too.
They can make you feel like magic, and they can make you feel like nothing. 

I've been thinking about this a lot lately and I'm not really sure why. It's not that anyone in my life has disappointed me in a big way recently or anything. No. I think it's more like all these little life disappointments have just been building up inside me, and so I feel the need to write about it to get it out of my head. All these thoughts that come knocking at eleven at night as I'm trying to get some sleep before school the next day, and I can't sleep until I finally turn on my lamp and write them down. I keep a little notebook next to my pillow just for this reason and lately it's been getting a lot of entries, which is good I guess. But anyway, back to disappointment. Fun topic, I know, but hey, we all experience it at some point right?

So yeah, sometimes people are going to disappoint you. Whether it's their own fault, or yours for expecting more than they are willing to give, it's going to happen. But is that really a bad thing, or your fault? Expecting things from the people you care about? Expecting them to care just as much as you do, and to do just as much for you as you're willing to do for them? No. At least I hope not. Because isn't that what it's all about? Giving of yourself to the people you love. That's what I've always believed, and still believe. But sometimes I've come to find that people aren't always willing to be there in the ways you want them to. Maybe it's too much for them, or maybe they're busy, or maybe they just don't care. Either way, it still hurts. I think it always hurts to be the one who cares more. To be the one who is willing to give more.

Of course I'm not always on the "caring more, giving more" side of things. Though sometimes it feels that way. But I'm sure there have been plenty of times where people have been disappointed in me too. In fact, I know there have been because I've been disappointed in myself right along with them. And that's the worst. Being disappointed in yourself. Because when it all comes down to it, you can't control the actions of others, but you can always control yourself and what you do or don't do. But at least when it's you you're disappointed in, you know how to fix things. Or at least how to try and fix things. But we can't fix other people, no matter how much we wish we could. All we can do is love them and hope they love us back. Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't. And that's life.

But when people have disappointed me in the past I've always wondered whether it was because I just expected too much of them, or if my expectations were just too high, or if I had done something wrong. I kept thinking that maybe it's my fault for expecting them to care as much as I do because caring as much as I do would require a lot from a lot of people. I don't know. Maybe that's just my tendency to blame myself for everything. But whenever I'm disappointed I always assume that it's my fault. A normal person wouldn't be disappointed about something so silly, or something so little and insignificant. But to me the little things have always been the big things. The details have always been the most important. And I know that other people aren't the same, that they don't remember every little thing, but sometimes it would be nice if they would.

But I guess that's the future for someone like me. Someone who writes poetry and remembers details. I can't expect anyone to write me something back, or remember something so small because they're not me. And I wouldn't want them to be. I want them to be themselves, and that means accepting whatever they're willing to give. Even if that's not much at all.

What I need to realize is that just because people don't do for me the same things I do for them, it doesn't mean they don't care. It just means that they're showing me they care in different ways than how I show it.

And in truth, what I really need to remember is that I don't do these nice things for people so they'll do them back for me. I do it because I care about them, and that's all that matters. That's why I still do the things I do and remember the things I remember. Because it makes me happy to see the people I care about happy. And it doesn't matter if they can't write back or remember what happened last Tuesday. All that matters is that they know how much I care. And maybe some day, when they're ready, they'll show how much they care too, just in a different way than I do. And they won't ask for anything in return.

That's the bottom line, I guess. To not ask for anything in return. That's truly caring. And I'm not asking for anything in return, really. I just want them to know how much I care, and to know that they care too. That's all. Even if they show it in different ways than I do, I just want them to show it every once in awhile. I think that's all anyone wants. To know that they matter to someone, somewhere. To know someone cares, even a little.

So if there's anything I want you to take away from this post, it's this: Sometimes people disappoint us, but that doesn't mean they don't love us as much as they can. And it doesn't mean that they aren't doing the very best that they can do at this point and time. So the people that make it up to you, that show you they care (even if it's only a few times a year, in very small ways), keep them in your lives. Because at least they're trying. But the people that don't even try, that take you, and everything you do for them for granted, let them go. Find people who know that you are willing to do your best for them, and who are willing to do the same for you. Those are the people worth caring about. The people who you wouldn't ever ask for anything in return, but who are willing to give it anyway because that's how much they care. Those are the people worth writing poetry for, even if they can't write it back.

Love & Chaos,
Sam

A Story About Friendship

Once upon a time, though not so very long ago, four different seeds were planted into one small pot. For years they grew together into little green saplings and were happy. The little pot was all they knew and they were content to stay small inside its confines and its safety.

Five years passed and soon the little saplings had become too big for their little pot. It was time to move on, so their gardener dug them all up and replanted them into a bigger pot with more saplings and more room to grow.

More time passed and the four saplings grew until they had to be moved again; into an even bigger pot with even more room to grow and even more saplings. And still they stayed together. They became stronger in this bigger pot until each one went from being a green sapling to a blooming flower. So many colors, they marveled at what they had become. One a beautiful daisy, its petals the color of puffy white clouds, reaching out to those around it and spreading joy. Another a radiant daffodil, with petals like buttery sunshine, shining light on those nearby. The third a brilliantly red rose, who bravely wore her thorns and always used them for good, protecting those around her and making them brave too. And the last a lovely, timid tulip, whose petals seemed plain on the outside, but when they opened up revealed the deepest shade of blue. Together they created a rainbow of colors so vibrant, each color complimenting the other three.

For four years the flowers bloomed and grew together in this bigger pot and were happy. Even when the rains fell, even when the winds blew and the winters took away their petals until the next spring, they stayed together. Even when the other flowers around them came and went, the four of them always stayed; always survived. Together. 

But all too soon they grew even too big for this bigger pot and the time came for them to be planted into the ground. In some ways the flowers were ready, they knew they couldn't stay in the pot forever, otherwise they would never grow to their full potential. Still, they were scared to leave each other behind. They feared that if they left the pot they would grow apart. The timid tulip feared this most of all. She didn't know how she'd be able to face the rain and snow and wind without the daisy and the daffodil and the rose. Their pot was the only garden she knew and she was afraid of losing her friends. Still, she knew it had to be done. It was time for the flowers to learn how to grow on their own. 

One by one the flowers were dug up to be planted into the soil, but upon digging them up the gardener discovered something miraculous. In all the years that the four flowers had been growing together above the dirt, they had also been growing beneath it as well. And in that time their roots had become so entangled that it was impossible to separate one flower's roots from the other, or tell one flower's roots apart from another's. So it didn't matter how far apart they were planted as they continued to grow because underneath it all they knew that they would always be connected in someway, and this made them happy. They would always share the same roots. No matter what. And even if they had to learn how to grow on their own now, they knew they'd never have to grow apart.

The End

To the rose, the daisy, and the daffodil. You know who you are, and I know who I am because of you three. Thanks for everything you've done and continue to do. So let's keep growing up together; it's so much more fun that way.

Love & Chaos,

Sam

A Song

I love this version of this song. I just love it. It never gets old. It makes me sad and happy at the same time, which is what the very best kinds of songs can do. Hopefully you'll love it too, if you don't already.

Love & Chaos,

Sam

Anxiety Girl

Okay. I've been turning this around and around in my head for a very long time trying to decide exactly how to go about writing this post, and I've come to realize that it will never be exactly the way I want it, so I figure I'll just go ahead and do this thing and hopefully by the end it will make some sense. Here goes.

I have anxiety. Like a lot of anxiety. Let's just call it a shit ton of anxiety. Now I've never actually gone to the doctor about this and been diagnosed with Anxiety Disorder (yes it's a real thing), but I suspect that I most likely have the general kind. To be honest I can't really remember a time in my life when I haven't had anxious tendencies, except for maybe back in elementary school when I didn't really care what people thought of me. I think middle school is where it really started happening and there was even a time (lasting about two or three years) when I would get panic attacks and shortness of breath a lot. The first time it happened I was sitting in history class and we were watching a documentary about these people who were climbing Mt. Everest, and I just remember it felt like I was on the mountain with them and I couldn't breathe. I would try to take a deep breath and my lungs just wouldn't let me, and I was freaking out thinking something was wrong which made it even worse, until finally I had to ask the teacher if I could go get a drink of water. After that it just kept happening at random times: gym class, field trips, pretty much anywhere, but mostly at school or in social situations. I'd just start worrying or thinking about not being able to breathe and then it would start to actually happen, or at least it felt like it was. Finally my mom had to ask the doctor if he knew what was wrong and he said it was probably panic attacks, but back then I had no idea what those were, so all I could do was just try to calm myself down and hope they went away fast. Once I reached high school the panic attacks pretty much stopped (still not really sure how) and I forgot about it, but the anxiety remained.

In elementary school, and even middle school, I was never really worried about being shy because my friends were all shy too. We were all nervous to get up in front of the class and present things, this wasn't something unique, so I didn't worry about it too much. But then once we all got to high school things changed, or changed for my friends at least. They all started becoming much more outgoing and were perfectly okay with getting up in front of the class and talking or presenting something. For me it just seemed to get worse and I couldn't understand why I still had to be scared when they weren't. They grew out of their shyness and I realized that mine was something more than just shyness. We'd get assigned a presentation project a month in advance and for that entire month I'd worry about it, a silly presentation in front of my classmates. I tried to tell myself to stay calm, that there was nothing to be worried or nervous about, but it didn't matter. Come presentation day I'd sit there with my face feeling like it was on fire and my hands shaking so bad I could barely hold the paper still enough to read it. It was awful, but lots of kids went through this, I knew. I'd see other kids struggling too and even though it wouldn't make me feel better, it would at least make me feel less alone. And by senior year I was able to get to a point where my hands and voice didn't shake as bad. But then of course just as I was getting used to talking in front of these people I'd known for years, senior year ended and I was thrown into a whole new environment with new people. College.

I'm at the beginning of my third year now (where has the freaking time gone?!?!) and I'm still anxious as hell. It's true that I've "come out of my shell," as people love to say, a bit more than when I was in high school, but the anxiety is still very much there. I get nervous or worry about the silliest of things, like reading in front of the class while sitting down, and my heart beats like crazy. Large groups of people make me anxious and I can't really be in big groups for long periods of time because it's just too much. I know that people could try and just blame this on my being an introvert, but it's more than that. There is something inside me that physically won't allow me to do normal human things, like getting a job for instance. I want to get a job. I need to get a job. But the prospect of actually going up to someone and asking them to give me one feels like the scariest thing in the world to me. Interviews, terrifying. Meeting new people, nerve-wracking. Normal human activities, daunting. I want to do these things, but it's as if there's this wall that is preventing me from getting to where I want to be. People tell me just to go for things, face my fears and get over it, or that this whole thing is just some idea in my head, but I swear to you, it's not. This is a real thing that I have and I'm not really sure how to deal with it. I mean, I'm pretty sure there isn't any kind of real cure for anxiety disorder, but the worrying is exhausting. Worrying about silly things that don't even matter, or worrying about big things, either way it effects my life. And regardless of what anyone says I can feel, deep down inside, that this is a real thing, not just my mind or fear getting in the way of what I want, but a real problem.

There are some people in my life that don't really get this. They call what I have "being shy," but there's more to it than that. They say I'm just lazy, or they tell me to just suck it up and eventually I'll get used to things, but I can't. I want to do normal things like get a job, I want to, but every time I even think about trying to do just that my body just basically shuts down with worry and anxiety. They think I can help it, but they don't understand that I honestly can't. That even just going out in public by myself scares the living bejeezus out of me because it means I'll have to interact with people. I even have trouble making steady eye contact with people I know, that's how bad this is. My mind is constantly bombarded with worries over the most ridiculous things and I can't even stop it. I wish I could. I wish I could say I'm "getting over it," but I don't think this is the kind of thing a person like me can get over. That may sound incredibly dreary and unoptimistic, but I'm just telling you the truth. I think I'll probably always have anxiety. The key will be learning how to deal with it better and learning how to work around it so I can at least be a semi-normal contributing member of society. I may always be awkward and anxious, but I can at least try my best not to let the anxiety control my life the way it has for the past few years. I'm not really sure exactly how I'm going to do this yet, but I'm a work in progress and that's what your twenties are for right?

I apologize if this sounds like whining, I'm just trying to explain myself to myself, and I know that there are others out there who feel the same way that I do (right?) and I just hope that this helps you feel a little less alone, or that you can relate in some small way. So yeah. This is me, living with anxiety and trying to figure out exactly what that means. Here's hoping the next ten years are filled with a little less worry and a lot more discovery. Anxiety girl out.

Love & Chaos,
Sam

P.S. Please understand that this is just me talking about my own experiences, I know that things are different for everyone and that the way I've experienced anxiety may not be the same way that others have experienced it. I am in no way trying to say that my anxiety is any better or more severe than anyone else's. I know that my story may not be particularly unique, but I just wanted to share it, not only for myself, but for anyone willing to listen. Even if just one other person out there can relate and feel a little better, then writing this all down will have been worth it, even if neither of us has any idea what we're doing. Sorry that I don't have any tips on getting over anxiety, but this is just because I don't know any yet, as sad as that sounds. I'm not trying to be depressing I promise, just being truthful. Anyway, hope that all makes sense. This post didn't turn out quite the way I planned, but when does anything in life ever turn out the way we thought? That's why life is so exciting (and terrifying) and my anxiety is just a part of my life that I've got to learn to deal with. Clearly, I'm still learning.