The time has come. You look out your window and see cars lined up with people packing as much of their belongings as they can fit, you see people triumphantly exiting the room of their final, you see students hugging goodbye and glancing longingly one last time into the dorm that was their home for the past nine months.

School has finally drawn to a close, though, contrary to how it was in high school, leaving it is leaving an entire lifestyle, a small bubble far from reality full of your closest friends and best memories.

For me, to quote Charles Dickens, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."

Going into college from senior year of high school, I thought it would be the end-all-be-all of life. I was finally ready to rid myself of the petty high school drama and enter a world of maturity and freedom, a world where I was going to meet my forever friends and finally begin the rest of my life.

The problem is that whenever you put a ridiculous amount of faith into something, it almost always disappoints. So when the first month of college had unfolded and I finally fell into the rhythm of my new lifestyle, I couldn't help but feel a record-setting amount of anxiety.

For some reason, I believed that the first people you befriended would be the people you would have at your wedding, who would be godparents to your children. But even though I was surrounded by new faces, I still felt alone, as though I didn't belong where I was. I felt like the odd one out, staring at my phone in hopes that someone would invite me out with them, calling my mom in tears the couple of times they didn't. I felt like the only person in the whole campus (heck, the whole world) who didn't have the immediate sense of belonging.

My friends from home had also gone away to college, and seeing their Snapchats, along with other people I had added from my new school, always made me feel like I was doing something wrong. That there had to be something wrong with me. Why couldn't I be like that?

The schoolwork was easy enough, but with increasing anxiety, every little thing seemed like the most daunting task in the world. It all hit its peak worst when I returned home for winter break, and everyone had their stories to tell of their wild nights and the best friends they had made.

I felt like a fraud. I smiled and told stories of the good times I had, leaving out the times where I could not leave my bed in such intense anxiety. My social media told stories of fun and happiness, but I knew better. I wasn't as happy as I wanted to be, and that made me feel even worse.

Going into the second semester, I decided to rush, because everyone was doing it and people told stories of finding lifelong friends, so why not? It was the last hope for a girl who had been letting her dream of happiness slowly slip through her fingers.

In truth, the rush process was one of the hardest things I've had to endure. It sounds superficial and so utterly privileged, but as someone with suffering mental health, being judged by hundreds of girls in whether or not they want to be your friend was an extremely difficult thing to face. My anxiety had increased to levels I had not known possible.

After two grueling weeks, I finally got a bid from a sorority, Alpha Gamma Delta. At this point, I was mentally exhausted and went in less eager than most.

This isn't a sappy tangent that essentially promotes rushing. We've all probably heard the cliches of how Greek Life changed people's lives. Nothing really breaks through the glass. It didn't do it for me either, and I was more reluctant than anything to open myself up to 130 girls. I didn't believe the stories.

And, to be fair, this isn't the main purpose of what I am trying to say, but I guess this is me trying to break through that glass: within a few short weeks, Alpha Gamma Delta had become my home. I had finally found people who had cared so much about me. There were some people I wasn't even close to, but as soon as they thought I needed help, they would be there for me. Rutgers University is a school of 35,000 undergraduates. It's hard to feel a little lost. But within that chapter, I finally felt like I found my place. I met people who I could finally see being a presence in my life forever.

Being in a sorority wasn't what "saved" my freshman year... I did that. Yet with some amazing people by my side, my perspective of my new lifestyle had completely changed. I realized that my anxiety had been clouding my mindset the entire time: I had made some amazing friends and amazing memories even before joining a sorority. I had convinced myself that I was less than, but in reality, I was doing alright.

Like most things, there were lessons to be learned.

First and foremost, I learned that high school friends can be your forever friends, too. My four closest friends from home and I cannot wait to go home and see each other, and the distance has made our bond grow even stronger.

I also learned that, with good things from high school, bad things can also follow. There's still, unfortunately, some drama. You'll probably face pettiness at least a handful of times (but it's bearable.)

Listen to the cheesy anecdotes of how getting involved on campus can make your college experience better. In actuality, you meet more people and expand your horizons.

Everyone is struggling. Talk to people. Share your stories and listen to others share theirs. You will realize that you're not alone in anything.

And, most importantly, when you glamorize something to be more than it is, you'll always be disappointed. The truth is that life is life. There are ups and downs in every stage that you go through, and that is just the way it is.

This year was hard. But as I began to open up about my problems at the beginning of the semester, I found that it was hard for everyone. My friends from home who seemed to be having the time of their lives had some of the same problems I did. The girls in my sorority pledge class admitted their relative hopelessness to the idea of college. I was not alone.

I don't know what next year will look like. I don't know what the years after will, either. But if I learned anything, I know that I hold the capabilities within myself to get through it and to keep growing.

And I have freshman year to thank for that.