One thing I feel like my first eighteen years on this earth didn’t prepare me for is how mentally straining your first year of college is. For a majority of college freshmen, this is our first time away from home. You miss things you never thought you would miss.

I, for example, miss the small town in Indiana I ran so hard from to go to school up in Michigan. I miss sitting on my mom and dad’s bed every night talking about how our day was. I miss my older brother’s laugh when he’s watching Netflix at night. I miss the memories. But you don’t start off that way, or at least I didn’t.

One traumatic event caused all these feelings to come to a head. One thing in school they don’t warn you about. One thing you never think you will have to go through. One thing that makes you believe you’re going crazy. My roommate, who I had become so incredibly close with, tried to kill herself.

I think part of me still doesn’t believe any of this really happened. It’s definitely not something they can teach you how to deal with, but I think there should be a better understanding of how to make it through. Honestly, sometimes I think I went through more than my roommate. I know that sounds incredibly selfish of me but it’s true.

I wasn’t able to even function after that night. I couldn’t sleep, eat, stop crying, stop having panic attacks, or really talk about what had happened. I think most of the focus goes toward the one in the hospital rather than the ones still in the war zone.

My school was quick to get me a counselor to talk to and to handle our rooming situation. My mom and sister came up from Indiana to help me get my mind off of everything. My doctor prescribed me new depression and anxiety medication. Everyone around me was trying their best to help me, but I couldn’t help but think more could be done.

Trauma is hard to understand. I still think I’m trying to get over everything that happened. I keep thinking about what could have happened if I didn’t come home in time. My best friend at this desolate place would be gone forever and I would be forced to live in its wake. Some nights this question leads my mind to run rampant with the scenarios and keep me awake at night.

I try to remind myself that I did the right thing that night. Calling for help was the best thing for her. I can’t help but wonder if she truly knows what this ordeal did to my mental health. I’m constantly sad but slowly becoming happy again. The sleepless nights are troubling but sleeping pills are cheap. I’m starting to take back control of my life, which is a difficult thing to do.

This whole event has made me realize that we are not the bad things that happen to us, but rather how we deal with them.

If you or a loved one is experiencing suicidal thoughts, the Suicide Prevention Suicide Prevention Lifeline can help.