Peace Out, 2015

Happy New Year, my lovely readers!

I hope that all of you are enjoying your final few hours of 2015. It's crazy to think how fast the year has gone! I know that I say that every year, but it always catches me off guard. When I finally get comfortable with the year, it's suddenly over. I'd like to say that with the new year, I'm a year older and a year wiser, but let's be honest, that's not always accurate. (Thar was a poor attempt at humor, friends. Laugh so I don't feel awkward. (And let's be honest again, I'm awkward no matter what, so laughing won't help any.))

2015 was an exciting year, to say the least. It was filled with laughter, tears, heat break, optimistic enthusiasm, late night conversations, big decisions, so much work, a lot of inspirational quotes, inside jokes, a leap of faith every here and there, determination, unforeseen challenges, positivity, new friends, and so many wonderful memories. For every up, there was a down. For every tear, there was laughter.

I saw a picture on Facebook that said something along the lines: "I think we can all agree that 2015 tried to kill us all." It made me laugh because it was ridiculous, but also kind of true. I didn't think it was a bad year, actually, but it wasn't a good year 100% of the time either. Overall I thought it was pretty good, but it had its own challenges.

As I reflect back on it, I don't even know where to begin! I have so many fond memories of 2015 that they outweigh the sour or darker memories. I was still adjusting to college and classes, but found a solid group of friends that helped make it easier. (I am always so thankful to have them in my life and I don't know what I would do without them. They have become such big parts in my life and they are always included when we talk about the future.)

My anxiety became too overwhelming and I ended up falling into a similar darkness that I had experienced about two years earlier. I went to counseling as a way to help deal with my self diagnosed anxiety and (possibly seasonal) depression. I learned a lot about myself and tried to help figure things out. (Especially about my twisted idea about time.) It was a struggle, to say the least, but it did help in its own way.

I brought friends home from college and they spent two weekends in the best state ever (Minnesota, in case you all forgot). Both weekends were super fun as we showed my friends around and we can't wait to do it again this year! Again, my friends at school are absolutely amazing. They push me to be a better person and I am so grateful.

I went back home for the summer and managed two jobs whole trying to see friends. I worked at an extremely intense summer job that (fingers crossed) I won't go back to and had another retail job that is a lot of fun. I also saw One Direction in concert and they were absolutely amazing. (No, we're not going to talking about their upcoming break or the fact that Zayn left the band. Just let me be happy that I saw them in concert.)

I was an orientation leader for incoming freshmen at school with one of my best friends, He and I both had an absolutely incredible experience. It brought us so much joy and was extremely fulfilling. Our groupies/freshmen were extremely independent, but they quickly became friends. I also finally declared my major, woot-woot! As scary as it is, I'm going to be a teacher. I still have mixed feelings about it,

I also spent a lot of time with family and friends, but not nearly enough as I would like. I've grown up with a strong emphasis placed on family, so it's weird missing out on so much. We are always there for one another, so it's challenging not being close. We support each other through the good and the bad, especially during the past few days when we said goodbye to our family dog. He had been suffering for a while and his health had declined rapidly, but he was just miserable. It was heartbreaking to watch him suffer and trust me when I say that there were a lot of tears. Maybe one of these days I'll talk about it, but not right now. Just know that his passing absolutely broke my heart and I feel empty.

All in all, it wasn't a bad year. I actually really enjoyed it and had a lot of memories. And, because I'm Katie, here is some inspiration to help lead us into the new year.

Love,

Katie

Change

Hello all!

Happy Saturday and early Christmas! Hopefully you have some snow on the ground (we don't) and hopefully you are done with your Christmas shopping (which I haven't even started yet). However, Christmas is more than simply snow and presents, it's a time to be with family and celebrate the birth of Jesus (unless you're not religious, then never mind). So whatever your plans may be for the upcoming week, I hope that you all have a wonderful day.

As the semester ends and I'm back home (yay!), I have to readjust and experience change (of course, this change isn't nearly as tough because I've grown accustomed to it). Change is always a challenge for me--as it is for a lot of people. Change is one of those things that I need to process in advance (although it'll never be soon enough) or I'll need to initiate it in order for me to be comfortable with it; otherwise, I get really anxious and start to freak out over a billion (and unrealistic) possibilities. When things are set or there is a routine, I don't like them to change. I like to know what is going to happen or what to expect (not all the time, but a fair amount), that way I can go in with the right mindset. I do enjoy surprises (most of the time), but I don't like change.

Maybe it's because I like being in control (shocker!) and I like to plan everything (I know, you're surprised again) that I struggle with change. I don't like that it throws a kink in my plans or that I need to change previous set plans/goals. I feel like everything is going to change and usually for the worst (which is ironic because I'm such a positive and optimistic person (well, maybe you don't think it's ironic, imaginary readers, but I do)). I'm not sure why I associate change with negativity, but it probably has to do with my intense need to plan/control my life.

And when there is a change, my heart usually starts pounding into my chest and I will probably go get some air or get some exercise. It's usually the big changes that result in me freaking out: a change in living arrangements, change in routine, change within groups, etc. Or I'll do my classic response: avoid it for as long as possible until I am forced to face it. (I don't encourage anyone to do that, but if you do, take up running. It's great for your health.)

I like tradition. I like being able to know what will happen in the future and what to expect. So when I don't know what to expect and am not comfortable, that's when I start to freak out. Here's the thing, though, I like parts of change. The parts that I can control. I like experiencing new things or trying something new, but I definitely like keeping things the same.

Change isn't bad. Change is actually really good and much needed! Change helps us grow as people because we experience new things and learn! People change, environment changes, classes change, traditions change, everything changes! It's part of life! And it's okay.

But, right now, as I panic and have about a billion irrational thoughts run through my head, I'm going to go on a walk and breath. Get some (chilly) air, stretch my legs, continue to freak out, and then I'll feel better. I know that change is a key component in life and it's going to be okay, but I'll still be really anxious for a while.

Have a wonderful weekend, all!

Love,

Katie

December 14, 2012

Hello all!

Happy Monday! (Okay, maybe not super happy, but it's a new day. So yay about that!) I hope that each and every one of you are doing well! (I want to believe that real people actually read this, but there's still part of me that thinks that only my imaginary friends read it.)

So as I sit in the library, curled in a blanket, shoes off, fuzzy socks on, and a cup of hot chocolate beside me (yes, I know. It's not my usual hot apple cider, but I was in a hot cocoa mood tonight), my philosophy notes surrounding me, an easiness came over me. When I was taking a mini study break, I noticed a link that popped up on my Facebook page. It was an article marking the three year anniversary since Sandy Hook. My stomach began to twist and my motivation for studying disappeared as I was transported to another place.

I don't remember all of the details, but I remember celebrating with my peers. It was a Friday, only one week left until Christmas vacation. I had gone through the motions of my awful first hour class (AP Comparative Politics. Yuck.) and was looking forward to the fall celebration afterwards. I loved these school wide events when everyone would cram into the gym, we would sit by our grades, listen to the pep band, see the dance team or someone perform, listen to our beloved principal talk, and celebrate all of our accomplishments. My high school was big on school pride and celebrating the hard work of everyone--it didn't matter if it was football or chess, we celebrated and cheered for everyone.

After that, the day continued on and soon the final bell rang. I walked with my friend to her car and she gave me a ride home. After she dropped me off, I remember walking into the house and noticing that my mom was crabby. She was short with me when I asked her a question and I remember thinking, "Jeez. What's her problem?" Finally, after a few more quick and snappy responses from her, I asked why she was being so sour. She gave me a look that sent chills down my body.

"What happened? Did something bad happen? Are Grandma and Grandpa okay?" I asked her, my heart pounding into my chest, already fearing the worst.

"Not to us."

"What are you talking?" I remember the panic in my voice. "What does that mean?"

"There was a school shooting at an elementary school. The news is on in the family room."

I ran down the stairs and watched the updates as the newscasters repeated back the latest word on the tragedy. I don't remember what happened next, but I remember crying. I remember the silent tears running down my face as I wrapped my arms around myself and watched the news. I remember watching the horrific pictures of the students and listening to the death toll rising higher and higher. I remember cursing the gunman out as I prayed for the survivors. I remember crying out to God and asking Him why this could happen--how this could happen. I selfishly wished that it would have happened at a high school because at least the high schools had lived longer and could have figured out what to do. I remember watching the entire news story, hating the reporters for having the cameras in the survivors' faces, wanting to scream at the NRA and blame this on them, I wanted to grab politicians and shake them repeatedly until they understood something--anything--about this tragedy.

Fast forward three years later when these senseless shootings are a part of our everyday lives; when there is always breaking news about a shooting that takes victims. The number increases and the names all fade together. There are people calling out for justice, demanding for change. They want someone to understand and do something.

When is it enough? When will the deaths stop? When will people realize that this is out of hand? When will there be change?

Wherever you stand on gun violence, I want you to think about the victims and the families. I want you to think about the parents who have to go to bed knowing that they have out-lived their child. I want you to think about the siblings who no longer have a brother or sister. I want you to think about the kids who lost their best friend, classmate, neighbor.

How is that okay? How is this entire situation okay? I don't know.

I'm gonna step off of my soap box now and focus (or attempt to) on my philosophy and try to make it through finals. Good luck, all. Have a great night.

Love,

Katie