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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at TCNJ chapter.

*Please be prepared for a stream of consciousness word vomiting that’s about to occur*

Quite frankly, this is harder to write than I anticipated, because I fear I’m admitting to things that I’ve worked hard on ignoring in the past three years. Now, I don’t really remember everything that happened during my senior year of high school, but for the most part, it was exciting. Everything was happening for the last time, and despite taking challenging classes, it still felt enjoyable. I think it’s kind of my fault, my expectations for what was to happen after graduation were too high. Granted, the sudden death two weeks before graduation and then beginning college was absolutely not planned, and it may have (it did) shatter my entire perception of just about everything. Between that and my general anxiety, I shut down, but I digress.   

Now it’s my final year of college, and I just feel tired. I’m aware we are all on the same boat here, so you know, it’s alright. But aside from tiredness, I feel nothing; I’m just ready to go. Which I guess is a good thing because I certainly don’t want my college years to make up my entire personality for the rest of my life, but I wish there were a tiny bit of excitement. Like, when I received an email about applying for graduation (which okay, I have many thoughts about that, but let me not get into it), I just kind of stared and moved on. I don’t expect myself to be jumping with joy, but it should be more exciting than what I feel right now! Right?

I’m aware that it seems dark, and maybe I’m overreacting, and in a few weeks or months, I’m going to look back at this and cringe and wonder what the hell was wrong with me. But I’m also painfully aware that in three years (can I even call it three when I spent an entire year at home?), it has been incredibly isolating. Once again, it’s partially my fault because of the choices I made with a head full of grief. I’ve seen and heard people talk about how difficult it is to create friendships once you’re out of school, and I suppose now I’m panicking because I have no intention of pursuing academia after this, so you know, what now? 

There’s also the fact that when I walked out of high school, I had accomplished so many things, and I was proud of myself for it. Now it feels like by the time spring hits; I’m going to be crawling out of that field with a degree I’m not even sure I deserve or worked hard enough for. 

All things aside, though, I am rooting for everyone else. Every person I’ve met since Summer 2018 during EOF, people who are long gone, people still around–– even if I don’t get out of here proud of anything, I hope you do. 

A writer who's always in a crisis and probably eating fries.