I forget I have that young Tumblr

Anyway, I have a Redbubble! I have a few things there right now, but I’ll add more soon! And I know... I know... It’s all horrible. Like me

(The transparent one is only a sticker)

https://www.redbubble.com/people/ButlerSammy

I redrew my Crywolf drawing I did on the computer

I redrew my sister’s Twitch photo :3

My future tattoo! I always wanted something involving Aztec to display my Mexican culture, but as well a fox because they're my favorite animal. So, I said, "¿Por qué no los dos?" and drew this bitch up

Monday was my two years on T! I’m rocking that Cantinflas mustache :3

Apart from that, college is going great so far. I’m keeping it simple and only have two classes twice a week. The teachers are great and understanding. I told my art teacher I’d be having surgery at the end of the month and basically was like, “Don’t worry about it! It ight, dawg!” lololol. She was really cool about it.

Growing up I always thought college would this difficult higher education, but I reality, it’s quite easy. And even if it does get a tad hard in future, it’s great to recall why you’re attending college; to reach whatever dream you have. I have a set goal of becoming an animator, and to be come a father. These, and many other things, are what help stay positive.

I’ve been thinking of blogging/documenting my life in college on here. I wouldn’t know how often I would, but I’ll like to try it. I know going to college isn’t a big deal for most people, but there are people out who believe they will never make it that far. I was one of them - as corny as that sounds. I want to share my story in hope it would reach someone who needs to read it, who’s in the position I was in. In the empty void known as depression.

I suppose I should start by going back as far as I can remember.

At the age of five, my dad left us. He was abusive towards my mom and would as well hit us. Well, I would be the one who would get hit the most even by my mom because of how destructive I was. I’m Mexican, so it wasn’t a simple spank on the bottom. This was objects in reach. Before anyone says anything, I now understand their frustration towards me. I would of done the same to myself. If I would go back in time, I would of kick my own ass. I’m against hitting one’s child, but they just couldn’t bear with me at times. I get it. I became like this because my dad left, but it wasn’t just that. At this age, I was beginning to become self-aware. By that, I mean I was beginning to know I was transgender and liked women. I had hair down to my ass, but I cut it off to look like a boy. I refused to wear girl clothes. I remember falling in love with one of teacher in kindergarten. She was beautiful. This was also when I discovered I was an (crappy, and still am) artist. I recall how amazed my teachers were when I drew the eagle on the Mexican flag. We had to draw the flag(s) of our ethnicity background. This age was when my mayhem began.

From then on, I didn’t want to go to school. They had to force me into the classes. Once they achieved to get me inside, I fought. Not the students, but the teachers. I used to fling chairs, desks, books. Everything. I was constantly being switched from school to school because of how I behaved. I was placed with therapists, I was placed in special ED, I was told I had depression, have a learning disability and emotional disturbance.

Middle school came along, and I was still as horrible. The middle school I attended sent me to another school called Connections which was basically a small house. There were about ten, twelve students, and no more. It was supposed to help me so I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed being surrounded by a large group of people. Of course, this did not help either. I was actually hospitalized in a mental hospital for a week or so. I hated it. It was cold, the cafeteria reeked of piss, they came in early in the morning to check your blood pressure, you had to tell them when you had to go to the restroom, we spent most of our time in a small room. It was awful. My friends all thought I had gone to Vegas to see my dad. I told them the truth when I returned home.

When I reached high school, nothing had changed. Well, I stopped fighting my teachers. I went on my own, but not for long. I couldn’t deal with all the people. It made me anxious. And I was embarrassed because I was a high schooler who couldn’t read nor spell. They sent me to EPHS, but that was a bad decision. I couldn’t do independent work. I required someone to help me. Walk me trough things. Needless to say, I dropped out completely. I accepted myself as a failure, moron and useless waste of life. Every dream of higher education came to an end. That was where I wanted it all to stop. I didn’t plan living passed the age of seventeen.

But of course I did. I’m going to be twenty-three on June 22. Because I did, I continued to feel worthless. I would escape reality with my art. Sometime in 2013, I made a drawing of myself, but left alone and left to my dad’s for two months. When I came back, I decided to return to that drawing. When I was about to color it, I came to the realization I could make a story out of it. Thus, was created the series which would keep me sane. It would keep me detracted enough to force on things and not my depression.

Close to the age of twenty-one, my doctor told me something that would bring me happiness and allow it to remain with me. I began injecting testosterone. I had become so attached to this story of mine, that, due to the happiness I finally felt, I wanted to return to school to become an animator. I started attending adult school to get my HiSET (GED), but it started off a little difficult. I felt troubled, but I pushed through. The testosterone began to kick in and my voice changed, grew facial hair, but most importantly I lost my period! It made me feel comfortable, and made easier for me. Last year, I completed the adult school.

Tomorrow begins my first day of college. Something I didn’t believe I would reach to do. If I had accepted defeat and ended my life, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have seen my dream of becoming an animator slowly become reality. I’m glad I continued. I’m honestly proud of myself. I want anyone who feels something similar to know life does in fact get so much better. It may not seem like it at the moment, you may not believe me, but it will. Keep fighting. Don’t let it keep you from your dreams. I promise you it’ll be worth it. You’re worth it.

Tagged by @categorizedoddly

1. Name: (Butler) Sam Skylar Lopez

2. Nickname: Sam (\ಠ_ಠ)/ or Butler

3. Height: 5′4″

4. Orientation: Sexuality: Straight  Gender: Male

5. Nationality: Mexican-American

6. Favorite fruit: Banana

7. Favorite season: Winter

8. Favorite flower: Uhh... I don’t really have one...

9. Favorite sent: Cinnamon

10. Favorite color: Orange

11. Favorite animal: Foxes

12. Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: TEA, AND HOT CHOCOLATE. I WILL NOT CHOOSE ONLY ONE. FITE M3 IRL (งಠ_ಠ)ง

13. Average hours of sleep: Like 9 hours

14. Cat or dog person: Both

15. Favorite fictional character: Jill Valentine

16. Number of blankets I sleep with: Three

17. Dream trip: Ireland

18. Blog created: Shit, bitch. I don’t know

19. Number of followers: Shit, bitch. I don’t know PT. 2

20: Random fact: I have to poop the moment my eyes open in the morning

A tad late, but here's my Christmas photo

Jamisin Matthews sent me this picture of my sister and I that he snapped on accident! lol

I’m so happy I got to see him again! And happy he remembered my sister and I from last year’s Stan Lee’s Comic Con!

He also remembered I’m “Butler Sam” from Instagram :D

I feel loved 😊

If I fits, I sits!