By: Janey Locander
It’s week nine of the fall semester and I’m feeling like the stress is eating me alive. I know I am only a freshman but it feels like the weight of college is pulling me down at a fast pace and I’m trying to remain calm. I’m sitting at the Brew, trying to down my stress with an autumn-themed drink and my tapping of keys.
College was supposed to be my escapism- In the sense that I could finally be doing what I wanted to do with my life and studies while making friends. So far I’ve struggled with both. I think back to how I was a few months ago and question if I can regain the sense of optimism I had about life and learning at a beautiful college.
It started out normal enough, I was thrust into days of awkward icebreakers, wandering aimlessly throughout campus, and meeting my professors. I found myself flying through the first two weeks of college and I was happy to be there. All to wake up Monday morning of week three of the semester sick, leading me out of commission for a week.
Although I still attended classes online and kept updating my professors I fell behind. I couldn’t help but feel the disruption to my college adjustment period. To go from having a routine somewhat in place, to feel completely scattered back home.
As the weather has gotten chillier, I feel I have also gone cold. Gone almost numb to existing as a student. Missing assignments seem less important when you struggle to come to terms with something far greater. Thoughts that never seem to leave, but ebb and flow with the winds of changing seasons.
It was my last night home before returning to class the following morning. A friend of mine told me something that I will never forget.
A fear of mine came true.
I had known him only three summers. We had met through a mutual friend and a writing internship with the Midwest Writing Center. He was a mentor to me who always encouraged me in all I did. Brought jellybeans to our very first workshop group together. Liked wearing unique hats and playing D&D. Took me out for sushi and sent me memes. Had a talent for writing and skill of moving an audience that I could only hope to possess someday.
All of this played through my mind as I sat in the pew, holding the hands of my partner and my friend. I can still feel the stillness in the room.
He was only 20.
That thought was constant in my mind as I went through the motions of comforting people, forcing myself to eat, feeling okay for a moment or two- then sobbing uncontrollably into my partner’s arms. Not only wiping my own tears, but the tears of my friends, my internship members, some who I haven’t seen in years or even met in person coming together to mourn someone we all cared for.
Only being two years older than myself, I thought about all the things I will get to experience and he won’t. How his plans to move to a foreign country after graduation or in the far future serve as an uncle if I had children someday. I think that hurt the most, knowing that my story has more pages left in it. Grief has been a new companion for me.
But the thing about grief, it doesn’t care about you. It will attack you at your quiet moments and stab you in the gut. It will come up and make you question your own mortality, your views on religion and the stability of yourself and those around you. Even when loss is something you’re used to, you can’t prepare for it. The sting comes down far worse when it’s someone you knew well and loved.
Even so,class has continued and assignments and exams keep being assigned as I feel almost robotic in how I go about most of my days now.
Still feeling the weight in my chest along with the normal anxiety, though it lessens steadily.
I make time to breathe in the newness of the day and the crisp autumn air, reminding myself that the cold doesn’t last forever.
Seasons change, leaves fall, but I’ll get through it all okay, in time.