The whiplash in my head has become a sensation I’ve grown familiar to. I believe the feeling of life moving so fast you grasp helplessly at the edges of it to try and slow it down one second, and the next you feel so stuck in the stillness, it’s achingly crushing, and is a universal experience amongst all college students as we navigate the waters between still being a student and being in the real world, together. These past two years of my college experience could not have been more different; in my freshman year I found myself living in the dorms, my parents were hours away, and I was exploring a new city every weekend. However, my anxiety took over and my sophomore year was spent at home, working at the mall only 15 minutes from my house and doing school online. Now as I approach my junior year, returning to USF as an R.A. in August, I’m reflecting on how much I’ve grown in two vastly different environments.
During my freshman year, I wasn’t completely alone, not even close! My roommate was my best friend from high school, and my two other friends were already there but a year ahead of me. The first day I moved in, they greeted me with a big hug and already knew the layout of the entire campus, the good places to eat, where to avoid eating, and the fun places to go out. I knew I was in a much different place than some of the people moving in on my floor, saying goodbye to their parents, and starting off totally independently, and I felt very grateful.
Despite that, it was still a hard year. My roommate moved out once the fall semester was over and I spent winter break worrying about the new stranger I would be living with. Would they be nice? Would they like me? Would we get along seeing each other every single day? She ended up being very nice and we’re still friends now! On the other hand, I was struggling with the workload in almost all my classes, and I was spending money much faster than I was making it. By the end of that academic year, I was defeated. I had applied to a college in my home city and planned on moving back and living at home. As the spring semester was commencing though, I finally found myself fitting in, making friends, and going through the motions naturally. This had me questioning whether I really wanted to give up so soon.
After many nights crying to my sister over the phone, I took her advice to take a semester off, go home to recharge and reevaluate what I want from life. So from August to December of 2023, I did just that. I got a part-time job to make some money and not completely isolate myself; it was amazing, I made some great friends, and nothing unites a group of people more than dealing with customers and talking about life during the slow hours. My coworkers became the people I saw every day, and although I was the youngest of the group, we bonded well and they took me in. Yes, it was only a part-time job for the season, but I’m always going to remember it was a community whose impact will always last on me. It built up my confidence in interacting with strangers, taking on responsibility and leadership roles, and discipline.
There’s the age-old saying that if you take time off from school, you won’t end up going back, and although I had a good experience, I didn’t want to work retail forever. With housing for the spring semester completely full, I registered for online classes and got to work. I woke up and did school work from 9:30 to around 1:30 every day, and when I wasn’t doing school, I looked up career paths, planned out my next semester, and applied for an R.A. position. Having a concrete plan in front of me felt like the wind in my wings, especially during the days I felt chained to my desk and extremely lonely.
When the darkness came creeping in, I had to tell myself that I’d never get this time back. These free days where I can do whatever I want within the confines of my home and the city I’ve lived in my entire life. It reminded me of quarantine almost, where the despair of a global pandemic weighed heavily on all of us, but came with the ghosting sense of relief at having a break from the chaos of every day. This was the time for me to work on myself with no distractions, so I could not only physically and financially take on my future plans, but mentally too. I got my driver’s license, started writing in my journal again, began talking to a therapist, and dug out my old library card, reading books at a speed I hadn’t since I was twelve under the blankets.
When I think about these past two years, they feel defined by the question “Did I make the wrong decision?” It served as an alarm ringing in my head while I was at university and while I was at home. As I look back, there’s nothing I would do differently because it all led up to where I am right now. I’m still on track for graduation, my friends at USF eagerly await my return, and my relationship with my parents has never been better. Anxiety still lives within me, turning like a whirlpool in the pit of my stomach, but I’m equipped to not let it drown me, instead, I feel its freezing water against my skin and swim through it.