With every day that passes, it all feels more and more real. It wasn’t so long ago that I was sitting in my elementary school hallway with my best friend, having my father read “Clifford, The Big Red Dog” to us. We would beg him to stay longer, even though we were supposed to head back to class, and he would find a nice spot around the corner to read one more book to us.
And it feels like just yesterday that same girl and I were stuck in traffic exiting the Taylor Swift concert, talking about how in just a few months, we would be officially college students. I remember we looked at each other in silence, and just shook our heads in disbelief.
I have registered for classes, chosen my major, and have gone through every advising I could possibly go through. I even have been assigned my dorm room and hall. It’s all moving so rapidly; I don’t even have time to soak it in.
A few months ago, I had decided that I wasn’t going to live on campus. But after long discussions, tear fests, and late-night racking of my brain, I have come to the firm decision to at least try to live on campus. I mean, I am provided with the best dorms on campus at Barrett. I got registered with the Disability Resource Center and they have done and will continue to do incredible things to help me feel at ease throughout my college experience. They even put me in my very own room so that I can relax and cool down when I’m not feeling all there. And even better, I share a bathroom with my best friend, and she will always be willing to lend a hand on those days.
Things seem to be falling in place, we went shopping for decor and had no issues deciding on a color scheme, we’re both the same major, and I actually think I’ve gotten some great professors.
But my God… I’m nervous.
I’ve never been good with being away from home, and more specifically, from my mother.
It has been something I’ve struggled with for my entire life, and probably will continue to for the rest of it. There is no doubt that I improve with every single day that passes, but I hate change. Especially change that involves being away from her and home.
This whole summer I have been working on being away from her and home, just to try and adjust for University. (This is partially why I have been MIA lately). I’ve been staying at my cousin’s condo while he is out of town frequently (where I am right now), and I have been staying at friends’ houses as well. These, though seemingly simple-sounding, are HUGE hurdles for me to have overcome. It wasn’t too long ago that I could barely spend a full day away, let alone upwards a week.
But last week I took the plunge. I never thought it would be that hard. My boyfriend and I decided to travel to San Diego for 4 days and 3 nights. I was so excited and not nervous at all. After all, close to nobody calms my nerves like him.
We drove there with no issues, and we hit mission beach and laughed and ate and simply had a blast. But then as evening fell, and we hit those California Highways, tears started streaming down my face. They wouldn’t stop. Nothing I did worked, and it hasn’t felt that bad since I was younger. Not even Zach could calm me. We got to the wonderful hotel and I curled up in a ball and sobbed for hours. I felt horrible for being such a downer, which only made me sob more. I was panicking and hyperventilating. I called my mom and we talked for a while until I calmed down. In my mind I just kept thinking, “I wanna go home. Please let me go home. I can’t do this. I’m not ready. College isn’t right for me, I can’t move out.”
I felt better for a little and then it started again. This was the cycle for the entire night.
But I got through it.
It was sadly one of the hardest things I ever had to do. But it was also one of the only times I really forced myself to do something I didn’t want to go through with. By the second day, I was fine. I had a blast. We created so many memories and had so many good laughs, and I feel so proud of myself. I never, not in a million years, thought I could have done that.
But I did.
And I feel more ready then ever.