So, here we are. Nearing the end of 2017.

It's been a long f*cking year.

While staring up at the ceiling of my dorm, listening to the 1975 a little too loudly, I began to think of all the things that have changed for me this past year. I mean, I moved across the country, lost many friends, had my heart broken for the first time, and ran away to Oregon (kinda). That's a lot to handle for anyone, let alone a first-year college student as well. But... despite the difficulties I faced, this year has taught me a lot about myself. One of the biggest lesson's I've learned from my first year in college is that it's okay to not necessarily enjoy it.

June 3rd. 2017-

I was finishing up putting the last of my belongings into a worn cardboard box. I taped it up quickly and scribbled "school stuff" across the top with a fading sharpie. My chest felt tight seeing my room empty. I knew the waterworks were about to start. My estranged father was waiting for me in the car... ready to start our cross-country trip to North Carolina. I had spent so many hours daydreaming about leaving this awful town, but now that it was happening, I wanted to scream "No!" and lock my door. I was never going to see this house again. This house had part of my history. Life changing days happened right here in this room and I'm just going to leave it behind?

Everyone had gathered into the living room to say goodbye and it was just a little too much for me. I began to cough, and the familiar sting in my eyes began to blur my vision.

I gave my brother, Ben, a hug (something we didn't do very often) and told him "Don't stop being an epic meme lord o.k. Ben?" He just laughed and said I was stupid. (That means I love you)

Laura, my sister, my partner in crime, my best friend. I held her tight, and we didn't say anything. We didn't have to.

The hardest goodbye for me was Layla's. She was only five at the time... and I was terrified of her forgetting about me. (As silly as it was.) I had spent every day with her since she was born and leaving her broke my heart.

I kneeled down and hugged her. "I Love you, Layla. Can you say bye bye sister?"

Layla had made significant progress with her speech therapy, but she hadn't quite gotten there yet. But as I was about to stand up and make my way out the door, she surprised me. She said, "I love you sister." For the first time in five years, she told me she loved me.

Of course, I cried like a baby.

I said goodbye to my family and my home in California, and headed towards my new life 2,648 miles away.

1st Semester-

August came and went by way too quickly. I had this idea that I was going to go to college and make so many friends, go to parties, and have the "best four years of my life." But to be honest? I hated it. My first semester just felt like one long stressful nightmare. I took on 18 credit hours and a part-time job. I spent every weekend alone in my room either studying or Skyping with my boyfriend at the time. I spent a lot of time alone, which was very weird for me... I lived in a crowded household all my life. And for the first time, I had to be by myself.

I began to have awful nightmares every night. My anxiety was at an all-time high. I wasn't sleeping anymore. I became so overwhelmed.. and eventually depressed.

2nd Semester-

I decided to take a lot fewer credit hours (14 to be exact) and try to get myself out there. I felt like I had some pressure to hurry up and make friends, go out and do things. Because once again, this is college. I should be having a blast.. not sitting in my room all day alone watching Netflix. So, I decided to join a club. We met every Thursday, and at first, I was pretty optimistic that I would finally have a friend at this school. Maybe someone to eat dinner with? (I was pretty sick of eating microwave meals in the common kitchen area). It was fun for the time being, but we never really kept in contact, which was kinda disappointing. I guess that's how things go sometimes. The second semester ended up being pretty much the same as the first.

I still felt so lost and alone.

Nearing the end of the term, I was still fairly depressed and struggling with school. And I think it was because of this weird idea that because we're in college, we should be having the best time of our lives. It's strange to not enjoy college. I say phooey to that! College can be incredibly enjoyable, and I understand that my circumstances (being far away from home and other miscellaneous events) led me to a not so fun year. But let's be real here. A lot of students are far away from home. A lot of students are stressed out from either their classes, work or family situations. My point is, it's okay to admit that you're struggling. It's okay to say "right now, I'm not having fun."

Would I go back to June and change my decision to get in the car?

I don't think so. Yes, the first year was incredibly difficult, but I've grown as a person.

For all you new freshman, you're not alone.

For anyone that's struggling, I'm here for you.

It's okay not to be okay.

p.s. If you ever need to talk to someone about this, feel free to send me a personal email at classof2015123@gmail.com