It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens.
Life as a freshman in college is hard; I cannot lie. Being away from home and my incredibly coddled existence for a year taught me so many things about myself; not all of them good. Being self-aware is confusing, as paradoxical as that sounds.
I shall jump straight to the point: I have clinical depression and anxiety issues which I struggle with every day. I took meds my final year of high school and they worked—a little too well if truth be told. Halfway through my first semester of college I was convinced that the depression was gone, never to return again, and recklessly emptied my stock of medicine into the dust bin (trash can for you wannabe Americans out there). Predictably, the trauma of being 5000 miles away from home combined with my depressive tendencies didn’t exactly make for a fantastic first year of college.
Grinnell is cliquey. There, I said it. Halfway through the first semester most people had already found a group of buddies who they would spend every spare minute with. For an introvert like me, my group was my safety blanket; my support system. I could not have functioned in college without them—and here lies my first mistake and your first lesson: Don’t rely too much on one thing; have a variety of things going on. This is a good life lesson in general to be honest. College campuses are some of the most active places you’ll ever find yourself in, and you are not at college to find a group of bffs without whom your college experience would suck. ESPECIALLY if you have depression and/or anxiety. For me, the inevitable happened—my friends couldn’t be around all the time (obviously) and this made me lonely and desperate for attention.
Meanwhile, I was exploiting the best and worst thing about college far away from home—the freedom. Pure, un-adult-erated freedom. But there’s this thing about freedom that no-one tells you (or everyone tells you and you never hear it because you’re a thick skinned little brat) and that’s that it comes with a helluva lot of responsibility. With the effects of my meds wearing off and the existence of a very conveniently placed liquor shop, I found myself drinking wine and binge watching Netflix on a Wednesday night when I was supposed to be finishing an essay that was due three nights before; Not a good place to be in. And with that comes your . Yes, I understand that not having parents around for the first time can let loose a wild side you never knew you had, but seriously, keep it under control. Addiction and dependency are real. You don’t want to find yourself suffering from either of them. Also, it helps to have a bedtime. No, seriously.