I remember the day I received my acceptance letter to USF. I was so excited, I called everyone I knew to tell them the good news. I remember my dad's reaction the most clearly. He was at work when I called, and when I shared the news, I smiled as I heard him in the background telling anyone near him that would listen that his daughter had been accepted into the University of South Florida. Each day that drew closer to move-in for the summer, I grew more excited and anxious. Excitement for the new people I'd be meeting, the opportunities I'd receive. And anxiety about whether or not my roommate and I would get along? Would my dog be OK without me? What would it really be like on my own for the first time?

I remember meeting my best friend, I was sitting by myself trying to call my dad in the lobby, when a girl and a friend of hers came over to me and said, "Come on, you're coming to Sonic with us," no questions asked, we went and had a good time, and over time she and I built up a pretty solid friendship. So far, college had been a tad bit lonely, and definitely stressful but nothing I felt I couldn't handle, especially with my new friend. But things quickly changed.

Maybe from the stress of all the changes we were going through, it seemed every time my mom and I spoke on the phone, the conversations turned into vicious arguments. And when I'd visit home on the weekends, the fights were even worse; I had the police called on me. And eventually I was reluctant to talk to her, my dad, or my sisters at all, and I could feel myself detaching from everyone. I'd come home on the weekends for the sake of my beloved dog, but for the most part, keep away from everyone else.

The loneliness got worse while I was away at college, and I was becoming a bitter, angrier person. I made new friends, but also began to push away the closest one I had. Soon, my grades were beginning to slip, I was skipping classes, ignoring calls from home, and isolating myself from everyone. I was constantly plagued by depression, anxiety, and restlessness, so I'd take long walks late at night to try and calm myself.

I got involved with a guy at some point,and things had gotten physical pretty quickly, I clung to the fact that I had someone's frequent attention and affection and convinced myself that I was in love. Which, looking back now, I wasn't. My friends tried to warn me about my recent actions, but I just kept telling myself I didn't need them, just him and myself. At this point, I could rarely get myself to go to classes, much less leave my room. Even though I had this guy's attention, the depression kept getting worse, and when his and my "friendship" ended abruptly, I spiraled out of control for a while. There would be times I'd be alone in my room and I'd struggle, trying to discern reality from hallucinations and I'd be terrified when it took me a while to snap back to reality. I decided to see a counselor after I decided to go home for a weekend and ended up attacking my younger sister in a rage.

My counselor suggested I try and reconnect with some of the friends I'd been pushing away, and I did, reluctantly. But still I didn't share things with them, like the fact that sometimes I was afraid to walk near the parking garages, in case I got the urge to jump off of one. And other times, I'd still try and shut them out. My lowest point came when I learned that one of my close friends had committed suicide. The fact that other people who knew her didn't seem to care as much as I did devastated and exhausted me at the same time.

But it was in my lowest moments that I realized that the entire time I hadn't been alone at all. One friend simply held my hand as I cried and we walked around campus. Another would stay up with me all night when I was too afraid to try and go to sleep. My best friend, whom I put through hell with our arguing, had a heart-to-heart with me, and we just talked all night about the different sorrows in our lives, letting each other know we weren't alone. One of my older sisters came to stay a weekend with me, and that was probably the most refreshing weekend I've ever had in my entire life.

When school ended, and it was time for me to return home, my mom was more welcoming than I'd expected and, of course, my dog and I were happy to be reunited. And, just like that, with the support from my friends and family (which I was too stubborn to realize was there the whole time), I felt okay again - like I could breathe. I spent most of this summer just refocusing myself. I feel more ready than ever before to go back to USF and spend this next year how I wanted the first year to be. One thing I learned for sure is that there is no shame in asking for help and seeking support from our friends and family.