“My first day at college!” I thought about it while trying, albeit in vain, to collect my nerves and calm down. I had been tossing and turning in my bed for a while now. I had already imagined and anticipated the conversations that I will have and the kind of people I will meet. I had pictured myself in the clothes that I will be wearing the next day. Blue denim shorts and a cute casual top to keep it simple yet trendy. I had even prepared in my mind as to how will I introduce myself. I had to make my best impression, didn’t I?
Everything seemed to be in order, yet I grew more restless by the minute. The clock had already ticked till 3 at night. I could not contain my agitation any longer. I decided to give up thinking of sleep. I got up and started reading blogs on ‘what to expect from college’ and ‘my future job prospects’ (yes, I keep googling about it even though I am not even sure what I am majoring in anymore).
And just like that, the sun rose and I am tempted to say that the rooster crowed, but in reality, the morning just ushered the din of uncles going for a morning walk and aunties brawling over something insignificant that I cannot seem to recall now. I ignored the commotion and proceeded to take a bath, mainly to wash off some sleepiness and fatigue. The moment I stepped into the bathroom, bam! I saw blood flowing everywhere. The sight of blood gave me nausea and a panic attack at the same time. I freaked out.
“Hell No!” and I proceeded to cover the scene of crime. Yes, my body had committed the holy crime of menstruating once again. I let out a sigh. Here’s to a great start at college!
Have you ever seen a butterfly trapped in a glass jar fluttering and struggling? Well, I felt the same when suffocated with unfamiliarity, minus the beauty of a butterfly. I had heavy bags under my eyes as if I contained the whole world in them and my body was fatigued, aching for somewhere to crash and sleep. I wore the look of ‘please-don’t-speak-to-me’, if a look like that exists. Although, I exchanged customary greetings with a few familiar faces. In my mind, I was already judging and evaluating who will I end up being good friends with. A few speeches and registration lasted several hours — stretching into what seemed like an eternity. It was finally late evening when I got to bid goodbye to my parents. I could only manage to utter a small goodbye with a feigned smile. Although, if I knew how much I would be missing them, and my home and comfort and familiarity, I would have paused, taken a deep breath and given them a tight hug. Alas, I didn’t know and I was only excited about what tomorrow holds. But for now, dorm room and some sleep would do.
I woke up by 10, only to realise that I wouldn’t have enough time for breakfast. I rushed directly to the venue for some other orientation. I then engaged with a new friend that I made, and was constantly kept in company with — a headache! Turns out I had a terrible episode of a migraine again. However, I still tried my best to have ‘conversations’ with people if you consider asking name, place, major/minor, and other such questions as conversations.
Although, later, I met a group of people that I started hanging out with more often. The next few days passed in a blur. I do remember laughing a lot, going to events, telling stories and listening to them. However, I also remember feeling out of place. Feeling like I did not belong there and the comfort of familiarity was begging me to come back. In the middle of laughing, I would suddenly out of nowhere, start thinking of friends and life back home. The nostalgia greeting me like a speeding car hitting you out of nowhere. I would get pangs of anxiety attacks in which my heart suddenly felt heavy with a feeling of sorrow that I didn’t yet have a name for.
“Am I in depression?” I wondered as I buried my face in a pillow and cried for no apparent reason. Meanwhile, to distract and calm myself down, I would start using my phone. Seeing my old friends move on to the new ones, and the new ‘friends’ hanging out in the Instagram stories, didn’t make me feel any better. I realised that I don’t have a friends’ group. And the ones that I am friends with are really just different people. Good people but just different.
I am not sure how I feel when everyone around me is drinking and smoking. I am not sure if I should do it too? But then, I know I cannot own my place by being a person that I am not. I let the tears stream down my face and try to make myself small, maybe even invisible, by hugging my body tight.
But don’t get me wrong, I know that there are people dying and some fighting for their rights, and to me, it looked like my issue is perhaps only an issue in my head. Honestly, there are people who love and care for me. But sometimes when Instagram and Facebook tell that you should be having the time of your life when you are not — you feel like a piece of crap. I am sorry but there’s no better euphemism to put it.
During that time, I realised that saying I am lonely is tough, but accepting that you are feeling lonely is even tougher. You feel like there’s something wrong with you or that you are not good enough. There is a negative association that the connotation of the word ‘lonely’ automatically draws in your head. You feel guilty, shamed and even worse off by solely acknowledging that you are feeling this way. However, trust me, there is nothing wrong with the way you are feeling. I wish someone had told this to me when I sat there puzzling why am I miserable, rather than just accepting how I am feeling. Only if I knew that this is merely a feeling that I am experiencing because of an urge of understanding and being understood, and that it doesn’t correlate or translate to the person that I am. Like, imagine feeling hungry — it doesn’t define you or brings about a feeling of shame, then why should you let the urge of social bonding do that? I know that it is easier said than done because I have been there too.
But, I have also been at the other end where I acknowledged the feeling, accepted it, and then overcame it. Gradually, the longing to go back home faded into an acceptance that I would have to lose hold of my sense of familiarity. The acceptance that college is huge, lonely and intimidating for not only me but for most of us, calmed me down.
Surprisingly, the person in the next room to yours might be stressing over the same reason. It led me to also accept that there is nothing wrong with me as a person. And that if I feel hungry, I reach out for my fridge, and if I am lonely and that’s been bothering me, I should reach out for help. There is, and should not, be any shame with it.
You and I and the world are just beautiful and trust me, so are our colleges and the people that we go to college with. Allow yourself some time, breathe, talk even when you can’t, and survive. Trust me, it will be all fine because you are fine as hell!