These past two weeks have been one of the most interesting. In this post I will be explaining the importance of fighting for what’s right, family, work places, life, home, technology, nature, love, depression, friendship, and the ways of equality. This thread won’t be like my others due to the lack of being able to post last weekend due to my busy schedule.
Fighting for what’s right
This is very important because if you don’t you will become lost in life. If you don’t do this you as a person will make many mistakes, bad decisions, or just become a push-over, or even, become afraid to be yourself. This also takes place in making our world a better place. Everyone can make a difference. No matter how small, anything helps. For example:
1.) A teenage female becomes pregnant, her significant other leaves her because he didn’t fight for what was right, and take care of her and the child leaving her to do it all by herself. By fighting for what’s right the baby is born and her parents love her because she made the important decision of coming to them with her problem, the boy ends up paying child support (because he didn’t fight for what’s right), and the teenager is still alive with a healthy baby.
2.) That same teenager that has the baby gets made fun of everyday for being pregnant during high school. By fighting for what’s right, the young man that had cared for her for at least 3 years by being her best friend (and of course having a secret crush on her) saw her being bullied and put himself in front of her protecting her from the bullies he had saved her from a little bit of depression.
3.) Several months later the babe of the pregnant teenager was healthily born, she’d fallen in love with her best friend, had grown a tight bond with her parents, learned many new things, had met summer break, gotten good enough grades to continue high school, and was as happy as can be, by fighting for what’s right, by ignoring all the negatives, looking at the positives, caring for her friends and family, taking care to watch her health, birthed the babe, and found her true love. And, in the process learning who she really was inside.
Family
Family is very important. As a 15 year old, I’ve been subjected to peer pressure, depression, close people dying, losing love, gaining friendships, staying happy, growing up, and whatever else you can think of, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without my family. Even if you don’t exactly get along with your parents or siblings doesn’t mean that you don’t love each other. Sometimes they just need help. Sometimes you need help. I’ve always believed in the saying “You don’t know what you got ‘til it’s gone” by the band Cinderella. It taught me a lot when I was younger, but without my father I probably wouldn’t have ever heard of the song. Even my father and I don’t exactly get along very much, but he and I have been working on our relationship a lot. It turns out that he’s just been depressed because I’ve grown up way too fast, and doesn’t know what to do as my father, and me genetically collecting his and my mother’s stubbornness, I was too blind to see his pain and though he hated me, and just stopped caring all together. And now we’ve both overcome many of our issues, and are getting along fairly well. Which is a whole lot better than that of what it used to be like a couple months ago. I hope we can soon be best friends again.
Work Places
Work places are a place of purely business. My father and I (whom I live with) have been dealing with social workers, child protective services, and therapists of all kinds. Now that I’m on a job hunt to help support my father and myself, I have to remember not to bring any of it up with applying, and doing interviews for my first job. Many people that are extremely open with others have trouble with this, but I’ve learned through others that if you give no reason for a possible employer to show you pity to give you the job, you keep the job longer, and gain their respect from showing how strong you are because you can handle you home problems at home, and your work issues at home and work.
Life
Life is a complicated subject that scientist ask questions about, and religious people believe in entities or gods because of the facts that many people are curious about. To me, life is just life. Life isn’t easy all the time, and life isn’t always as hard as it can be. In fact life is a wonderful thing that I hold valuable. My goal in life mainly is to help as many as I can to make their lives happy, and to make my own life as happy as can be. Without happiness, there can be no sorrow, but without any sorrow, there can be no happiness because one without the other makes life boring and neutral. ~equality
Equality
Equality is a simple yet complicated subject. It has to do with the Wicca rede, Christianity’s karma, and an atheists scientific notations. The Wicca Rede states “And ye harm none do what ye will” This law’s meaning is that if it harms nothing including yourself you can do what ever you wish or like or need. The law that applies to this law is the Law of 3. The law of 3 is basically the same as Christianity’s Karma. What ever you do to something or someone comes back to you thrice the amount (three times the amount), whether it be good or bad, it will. Christianity’s karma works in the same way except they have no exact amount and the Wicca. The Atheist’s scientific notations apply to equality in a math sort of way. Without a negative number you can’t have a positive number on the number scale. Without a positive number you can’t have a negative number on the number scale. Otherwise, all you’ll have is the very neutral 0 that isn’t either and does it’s own thing.
Home
Home in itself is said to be a place of sanctuary, and comfort, but home is almost always overrated. Home is simply just a place you’ve previously lived, currently live, or may live in the future.
Technology
Technology is turning people away from nature. Don’t deny it!How many people spend over and hour at a computer, listening to their ipod/mp3/zunes/ect., watching t.v., or using central heat/air, driving, flying, spending time on your phone, or even faxing something? Nature may take longer, or may seem less interesting to some people, but for the life on this earth, it isn’t always as healthy as it should be. Next time you spend longer than an hour go take a walk, or ride a bike, but do it respectably. You might learn something new, or make a new friend.
![Heroes
Who is my hero you may ask? My hero is my father. Despite the fact that we argue all the time and he’s almost consistently in a horrible mood and yelling all over the place, he is still my hero. My father’s name is David Gillotte. He takes care of me and has helped me with my fears and has always supported my many talents (even the expensive ones [sometimes] ) and I know he loves me. He just has a highly strange way of showing it sometimes.
Sometimes when I was younger we would sing in the truck (we’ve never had a car) and sometimes we would dance in the living room. Sometimes my father would tuck me in and read me a bedtime story. Sometimes we would take a bike ride or go to the park or even fly a kite. Though we’ve done many things together that were once beautiful and wonderful my father also worked 3 jobs at times. He had to work all of the time to support the two of us. Sometimes I wouldn’t even see him for a full 5 days because when he would get home he would be sleeping and I would be at school. He forced me to be independent most of the time and sometimes I would get in trouble without him ever knowing it. There were plenty of monsters in the world and all I had to protect me was myself, a teddy bear and a cat at night time.
Despite the fact that sometimes we wouldn’t speak for a week at a time (this was not too rare during summer time) I still went to school and was exquisitely close to my father. We would hold hands at the store and cuddle during movies on the couch. Some people (cough cough Child Protective Services) didn’t think this morally correct. Many people thought that my father sexually abused me because our father daughter bond was so strong. My mother (I love her dearly too, don’t get me wrong) wasn’t in the picture until I was at least 12 years old, so all my life I’ve lived with my single father. When I was younger CPS tried to control our lives (and still do) and tried to force my dad to try and find a mother figure for me because they didn’t think a father and daughter sharing a house by themselves with a few pets was a bad thing for the child. Neither of us liked my fathers choices except for one, but we both knew she would only be a good friend. He tried, but it just wouldn’t work.
After that trial they tried to come up with ridiculous excuses to try and take me away from my father and give me away to the state’s custody, but in 6th grade they fiercely succeeded. A detective tried to tell me who my father was when she’d never met the man. I was refused to go to my own court case because “I was a child and didn’t understand.” Well they were wrong. Every day for a week I was on strike. (I also had a temperature of 101 degrees + with whooping cough and strep throat) My strike consisted of no eating or drinking while at the foster home, cleaning everything I touched that wasn’t my chore. Not doing my assigned chore, and screaming at the nightly drunk foster mom that refused to take me to a doctor or giving me any type of medicine possible. My father never knew this, but I fought long and hard. What was worse is the foster mom plastered my hands in strong moisturizers (I’m allergic to moisturizers and lotions) and made me sleep on a thin mattress that was held up by metal bars. And just as worse, the Hispanic foster father would come into the bedroom of the younger girl’s at night to watch us sleep and once tried to record us. During my strike I also sang improvise song that I would make up off the top of my head until the foster parents would threaten to hit me. When their hand would raise I would stand stock still and sing in a heavy soprano (high female voice) “Strike me! Strike me and see! See who you will be! You will never break me!” My talents bothered them tremendously. Every night I would have to write 500 times: I am a mistake in life. I am unworthy. I will behave like the perfect child that I will never be. I do believe the last line for it is correct, but only partially for no one is perfect. There is no such thing as perfection. When I lived in foster care I had to think with my bronze and brains at the same time. This fairly much so practiced my reflexes for the first time I was hit was when the foster mothers (by the way her name was Vicky) older of three boys tried to touch me inappropriately (he was 18 mind you and I was almost 11) so I used my head against his as hard as possible and side swiped my bare heel across his face. (He was crouched down otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do this for I was only 3’2” and he was almost 6’2”) The foster father beat me for this. I didn’t care though. I refused to be raped in a place that was supposed to protect me. Same way at school except then it was my peers. The first time I was let outside on my own with the younger girl we made sure to be home on time, but what the foster mom didn’t know was that I took the young girl to the park where I would go to think in my favorite tree where I hid my small savings of money in case I would ever get hungry and bought her ice-cream. That was the day before I was to be let out of foster care. The day I was let out of foster care was day I was actually going to run away with the younger girl to the police station headquarters downtown. It was only a 3 mile run and because my dad force taught me to be independent I knew much of Omaha’s places and shortcuts. We would be able to get there in merely 45 minutes (not including hiding timing). I was determined to save the poor girl and myself from more cruelty than necessary. The day I left she still went on with the plan, for at school I secretly made a mad alongside Google’s maps for her so it was quite detailed. She’s safe to this day. (Thank you Google for having maps!)
During this time many people vouched for my father. Including Penny Parker, Ann Lawless, my therapist Melissa (can not reveal last name), my music teacher Mrs. Johnson (can not reveal first name), Roger (can not reveal last name), Tom Olsen, and Mr. Bud Olsen. We all fought a hard battle to release me, the wild child with “special” mental “abilities.” I was tested for the need of being put in a help home for the “crazy people.” I may be OCD, ADHD, Bipolar, an Insomniac, and mildly Lactose Intolerant, but throughout the entirety of my life, I have never taken medications that “would help me.” NO! I refused any kind of medicine unless I was sick with fever and was taking sick people medicine. I love my unique qualities that are considered “retardation.” I HATE that damned word. My first grade teacher Mrs. Stenzl recognized my unique qualities and helped me learn from them. She will forever be my considered “adopted mother.” To this day I see her sometimes and thank her with hugs and a smile. I don’t say thank you literally, but she knows I will forever be thankful for her unique understanding. She cared and tried and succeeded. I love her a lot and miss her all the time, but now I am older and I am a Junior in high school.
Despite all the struggles in my life (for there are far more that I wish not to be put on the internet) this is my most remembered. A person can only learn so much from a teacher, mentor, or school. 99% of the things that make you, well, YOU, are the journeys, hardships, and trials in life (And the wonderful positives!). NEVER GIVE UP! Live life to the fullest and don’t just work on your weaknesses. Work on your STRENGTHS as well. One can never fail so long as one keeps trying.
WHO’S YOUR HERO???](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m32fdxQmDM1qlp4apo1_500.jpg)
