I bought a one-way ticket home from college

Nope, this is not clickbait. I did, in fact, buy a one-way ticket home from college. In a frenzy of anxiety and desperation, I hopped on a flight one random Thursday without telling any of my friends or professors that I was leaving.

*Pause*

I should probably preface this with a quick hello/it’s been a while/I’m sorry I abandoned you all for 6 months with no form of quality written entertainment (assuming you don’t read, like, books or anything).

No, but, all jokes aside, I apologize for being MIA. It’s been a crazy last couple of months; I have so much to fill you in on!! I’m planning on posting every two weeks now that life has settled somewhat, but for now, I’ll give you some highlights and lowlights from the past few months:

Highlights:

• Left for college!

• Made a really good group of friends that I’ve been having tons of fun with!

• Taylor Swift released a new album.

• Became more independent than I’ve ever been before.

Lowlights:

• Cried a lot during my first month of college.

• Missed my family, high school friends, and former high school life.

• Struggled the most academically that I ever have in my life.

• Experienced a horrible depressive episode that caused me to go home unexpectedly without a set date of when I would return and made me consider taking a mental health leave from school.

So, yeah, that last one is what I’m focusing on in this particular blog post.

*Resume*

I’ve struggled with anxiety for as long as I can remember. It’s been an up-and-down journey; I’ve been on a handful of medications, seen a multitude of therapists and psychiatrists, collapsed on the side of Park Ave due to a particularly bad panic attack, and used a plethora of coping mechanisms: both good (journaling, mindfulness-type-shit) and bad (taking 7 consecutive shots of vodka). But, throughout the entirety of my life living with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, it has never been as bad as it was my first few weeks of college.

As someone who is naturally introverted, a homebody at heart, and very close to her family, moving over 600 miles away was a big deal. Like, a really, really big deal. In the beginning, being at school was hell. I cried nearly every day and felt the loneliest I’ve ever felt. I was, no exaggeration, close to flying home and dropping out. But, with the support of my family and some major inner reflection, I didn’t. I forced myself to take things one day at a time.

Slowly (very slowly), it got better. I cried less and less. I met people that I liked and got closer to them every day. I joined a few clubs and started to adapt to my new environment. I still had bad moments, days, and even weeks, but generally, things were pretty good. On the staggered line graph of life, I was on an upwards trend. But what goes up, must always come down. And that’s what happened about a month ago. I went down, down, down.

I don’t know what exactly caused me to finally hit my breaking point; most likely it was the energy-sucking months of stress, late nights, and adaptation that caused me to crack. But, whatever it was, it hit me fucking hard. I could barely get out of bed. I found myself constantly crying, and rather than being just anxious (which I’m used to), I felt extremely depressed too. I didn’t enjoy or look forward to anything and every little inconvenience or imperfection caused me to spiral. I felt like I was hanging on the side of a cliff by my fingertips, just barely holding on.

On Thursday, November 4th, after my 4th desperate and tear-filled call to my mom of the day, she told me to come home to regroup. I bought a one-way plane ticket, packed a duffel bag, and called an Uber to take me to the airport all in the span of 30 minutes.

Only after I made it on the plane, seat belt buckled and bag stowed in the overhead compartment, did I allow myself to think about the decision I had made. Two major thoughts and emotions made headway in my mind:

1. I felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders and an elephant had been moved off of my chest. Going home brought me an immense feeling of relief.

2. I felt like a complete and utter loser. Why couldn’t I handle my emotions? Why couldn’t I just get up and go to class and be okay? Did I seriously just make my mom spend hundreds of dollars on a plane ticket all because I couldn’t take charge of my own life and emotions? I felt like a failure.

This story ends much less dramatically than it started. I spent the weekend relaxing and recharging with my family and in the comfort of my own home. I came back to school five days later and I’ve been doing pretty well ever since. But, the second feeling I experienced on the plane is something I still struggle with. I’ve found a million ways I’ve “failed” in college so far; I have a C in my astronomy class, I had a DFM (dance floor makeout) that makes me physically cringe anytime I think about it, and I’ve skipped classes, workouts, meetings–you name it–just because I was too tired/hungover/depressed/lazy. But I’ve come to realize that the mindset I had was not helping me; all it was doing was making me sad and even less motivated to do well.

While I was at home, I went to a psychiatrist who told me about something called “Cognitive Distortions.” Cognitive Distortions are like different filters in your brain that create irrational perceptions of reality. They make us exaggerate or inaccurately perceive reality in an unhealthy way. There are many different types, but one that I found myself taking part in constantly is called “Negative Mental Filtering.” According to “mind my peelings”, a mental health blog, “Negative Mental Filtering is when a person focuses on the negatives of a situation and filters out all the positive aspects. They will magnify those negative details and dwell on those feelings.”

I do this all. the. time. In small ways every day, but also in big overarching ways, including (no surprise), my perception of college success.

I was scared out of my mind to go to college. Everything about it terrified me; making new friends, moving far away from my family, taking harder classes, having a roommate, etc., etc. And I did it. I have survived my first semester. I’ve made friends, passed my classes, worked hard, and had fun. That is the very definition of success; tackling something that you were initially scared of and making it to the other side. But until now, I’ve only ever been able to see the ways in which I’ve failed.

Looking on the bright side is something I will have to keep working on, but recognizing that it’s something that I have trouble with has been helping me to actively challenge my negative mindset. So, yeah, I bought a one-way plane ticket home from college, but I also bought another ticket, got on another plane, and came back.

Here’s the article on Cognitive Distortions if you want to check it out: https://www.mindmypeelings.com/blog/cognitive-distortions