I remember someone telling me during my freshman year, "Sleep, social life, good grades--choose two."

There's no way around it--college is a whirlwind of constant stress from all angles. There are the obvious stressors, like emotional strains that come from schoolwork and studying. Next comes stress from extracurricular activities you're involved in (jobs, clubs, volunteering, etc.). There's social stress from trying to go out/ see friends as much as possible. With only 24 hours in a day, it's impossible to do everything you want and need to do.

You have to make sacrifices and prioritize what means the most to you. Naturally, on the list of "choose two", I made the conscious decision to pick social life and good grades.

My daily routine would consist of waking up for class (possibly hungover), do my schoolwork, get dinner with friends, study more while I struggle to get ready, and ultimately go out to a party. This cycle would occur 4-5 days a week.

I would subsist on usually 4 hours of sleep (if I was lucky). As a result, I was more-or-less sick for the entirety of my freshman year of college.

My physical health was almost nonexistent. Freshman year me considered herself "healthy" if she wasn't bedridden. It became the norm to have a combination of a sore throat, stuffy nose, and some degree of nausea.

That's not taking into account my mental health-- that was comparable to a cruise ship with a hole in the bottom of it. No matter how hard I attempted to secure the hole, the ship would just sink deeper and deeper into the dark depths of the ocean. Despite my best efforts, my sanity was unsalvageable.

Stress is a toxin. It's a debilitating cycle of self-destruction that is totally counterproductive. When I stress out--say, about work-- I waste time worrying about all of the things I have to do. I do everything, except the work I need to get done.

While many of my friends had additional stress from their parents-- all my stress was self-inflicted. My parents rarely stressed me out; I just was never good enough for myself. My grades weren't where I thought they should be. I wasn't happy with the boys I'd see. I wasn't skinny enough, and I didn't put enough into my appearance.

Although my Facebook pictures painted the picture of a carefree and happy free-spirit, I couldn't have been more unhappy. I was not living, simply, I was getting by each day hoping the next would be better.

That is not healthy.

Even now, I constantly bargain with myself, "If I get this done, then I'll be happy." But no matter how much I cross off my metaphorical todo list, I still feel stress. There are always more things that come up-- tests, events to plan for my sorority, articles to write. Enough at once and I feel like I'm gasping for air underneath the pressure of the ocean.

But I'm learning. I'm learning to take things in stride, take a deep breath, pop in my headphones, and listen to Bright Eyes. I'm learning that sometimes, you need to put the goddamn book down and go out with your friends. Be responsible, but you're not going to look back at your college years and remember the nights you spent four additional hours in the library.

Dance, sing, meet people, RELAX. You only have an average of 78 years on this Earth. Don't spend the even shorter amount of time, when you're not sleeping, eating, working, etc., on worrying. It simply isn't worth it.