The Last Semester of College...

Picture taken from https://www.bustle.com/p/the-weirdest-college-graduation-traditions-around-the-world-53434

TW: This post mentions topics relating to anxiety and depression.

College can be too much.

Freshmen year I transferred schools after two bad experiences with my roommates that left me living in a single for the last couple of months at my first school. When I got to Emerson as a sophomore, I was ready to have a good college experience...until I ended up in an abusive relationship that sent me to the hospital my first semester in Boston. Throughout the next two years, it was heart break after heartbreak. Friends and lovers that came and went just as quickly as college seemed to fly by before my eyes. More bad experiences, but not all bad. But...nothing I could look back on that made me say that college was the best years of my life. First semester of senior year, I was ready to crush it. I wanted it to be the best year yet, as the last three were just so terrible. Again, I knew I couldn't tell my kids one day that college was the best for me, because for some reason...it just wasn't.

When I got back in September, I was surrounded with people in my major who were just already so ahead of me. And just so much better than me. I pushed the thought in the back of my mind that I wouldn't make it in the real world, when so many of my classmates who studied journalism had internships, like working for stations, while I had only written for a month at my town's newspaper. I questioned if I had been so caught up with the trauma I had experienced, that I wasn't as focused.

And as I pushed that thought in the back of my mind while struggling to make news packages and finish homework for my stressful classes, I lost my best friend for a couple of weeks, after both of us helped a level 3 sex offender without our knowledge. Past trauma was resurfaced. I wasn't enjoying studying at all. I questioned if I was in the right major. But I continued to push it down and told myself I was okay.

I got into a relationship sooner than I should have, and it left me heartbroken and questioning my own self worth again, like many times before. And when I left for Christmas break, I felt a weight off my shoulders. I counted down the days until I had to go back...but in fear. I didn't want to go back. I didn't want to go back to a place that had brought me so many bad memories. But a part of me wanted to try and start over again. This time it will be good, I told myself. This last semester will be the best.

I got back to school for my final semester the day after my birthday. January 12th. It was a good birthday, and I was feeling great when I saw my best friend Karigan and her boyfriend Thomas. We went out to Boston Burger Company for shakes and good ass burgers.

But the first week into the semester, I started suffering with severe leg pain that made me miss a full nights sleep...6 days in a row. I went to the doctor thinking that I had some sort of fibro from the stress, but they told me it was nothing. I was then told I was walking to and from class in a panic and I didn't understand why. And then all of a sudden...life became a blur.

I was waking up every day feeling out of body. I felt like I had died, and was watching myself from above, as I somehow got myself to go to class and live my life. But I didn't feel there. Even when I looked in the mirror, I thought I was watching a movie. And the weirdest part is, I wasn't panicked anymore. But whenever I tried to focus, I couldn't. My eyes hurt and I got constant headaches. I cried thinking that there was something wrong with my brain, and I would be feeling like this for the rest of my life. I didn't feel like things that I had done in the past had happened. When I typed a text message, I knew I was doing it, but for some reason I wasn't seeing the messages that I was writing out. And that's when I knew something was wrong. I was terrified.

I went to the on-campus trauma therapist who had me circle a scale of numbers while she sat there watching me. I had tried practicing deep breathing and exercises that week every night religiously, to try and bring me back to the present, but nothing seemed like it was helping. It was then she told me I had disassociation anxiety.

For the past couple of years, my anxiety had been piling up. I was constantly thinking about past events, constantly going into fight or flight mode. Handling what I couldn't. I hadn't even been on medication for 2 years.

My therapist told me that because I had been tacking on so much, my body and my OCD mind were both going into over drive....and they now were crashing with the impending graduation on the horizon. That's what was causing me to feel numb. Causing me to feel like I was no longer here anymore. I remember thinking that I would rather feel the way I did last semester, which was the shittiest I had felt in a long time. Telling my parents how I was feeling was the hardest too, because they just didn't understand. But I didn't either. It was all so new. I didn't get why all of a sudden I was having this disassociation now when all my life I had dealt with bad anxiety. But my therapist made me understand that with one of the biggest life changes coming up, my body was reacting to it, and that it was okay. That some weeks I would feel good, and others I wouldn't feel here. And that was normal with disassociation.

I was frustrated though.

I then went to an eye doctor to see if the trouble that I had with my eyes had anything to do with my glasses. I was told I needed to go to the emergency room as soon as possible because my optic nerves were swollen. I looked it up online and of course, WebMD told me I probably had a tumor. I started crying in the parking lot of my job thinking I would never get married, have kids, or even have a REAL job. I came to the conclusion that I had felt so weird this past month because of the so-called tumor. I went to the ER the next day where they told me nothing serious was going on. So it had to be disassociation, and a new stronger prescription for my glasses.

I finally told myself I wasn't okay, when one night I tried to explain it to my parents again...where everything ended up in screams and tears. When even my dad told me it was just all too much for me to handle...

I thought back to the times where I told myself I would rather not be here anymore than have to go through this. I told myself I needed medication. I told myself needed full time therapy. I told myself I wasn't okay. I knew I wouldn't be able to finish the semester if I didn't do something about it. I called my primary care doctor and scheduled a meeting. I continued seeing my on-campus therapist until I could find a full time one.

When I stopped taking my medication 2 years ago, it was a short point of time where I thought I was okay. And that stopped me from going to therapy as well. But just because you may feel okay for a second, doesn't mean you can't rely on things that can help your mental health tremendously. I told myself at the time I was strong enough to go without the resources, but my mental health just ended up getting worse in the long run. You can confidently tell yourself you're not okay, and you CAN be strong, even when you can't handle all the shit college throws at you. I'm hoping in time, getting back on medication and seeing a therapist will help me get motivated to do what I love and live life to the fullest. I have realized through all of this that I am good enough to be working in the writing or journalism industry...wherever I end up...and that I deserved to be loved fully by someone someday, even if that's now or if it comes later...and that I indeed, have so much ahead of me. And lastly, that the people who have stood by me during my college experience, are the one's who deserve a full time spot in my life, through the highs and the lows..... through the bad times and the good....who have managed to handle and love who I am even when if it seems to be too much...I know I am not too much for anyone who truly loves me. My anxiety, depression, and OCD will always be apart of me....and has been throughout my 4 years of college. And that's okay.

In t-minus less than 3 months, I'll be graduating college and it's SO scary to think about...but I know I have the resources that will help me get through.

I beg of you to please take advantage of these resources. To see someone if you feel like you need to talk it out, to research the medication if you feel like you need it, to express your bad thoughts to your best friend who is willing to listen....to be honest with yourself.

Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is admitting you need the help again. 

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