Summer has come and gone yet again. At the start of it, I was terrified. I realized that I might have given myself too much time on my hands, with not enough people to see, nor enough things to scratch on or off a to-do list. On June 1, my ominous future appeared quite uncomfortably in my new two-month sublease.

The past year had been full throttle. Between honors classes, leadership positions, a group exercise job, a family crisis, my boyfriend leaving on an internship one semester, and my best friend leaving on a study abroad the next, junior year was a little more stressful than planned. I don’t think this is abnormal, however. After hearing from all of my other classmates, I realize junior year tends to do that to you -- you know, it leaves you a little dazed and confused.

In February, I began telling my parents, “I think I need a little more me time this summer.” This actually meant, “Dad, if I spend my summer in a corporate office doing corporate things, I may or may not come back alive.” This wasn’t because I was scared of challenges or trying new things. This was because the personal obstacles I faced and continued to face throughout the year had me feeling like I got knocked flat on my back after a square punch between the eyes. It was taking me more time than I have ever needed before to finally stand up again. I literally couldn’t hear myself think.

So, there I was at the start of the summer. Moving into a house that was destined to be empty half the time, in a town that was destined to be too busy the other half of the time, was a blessing I didn’t know I needed. As an extrovert, I have always cured my mental stress by being with others. Whether it was being with my sorority sisters, roommates, classmates, boyfriend, or just hearing the strangers murmur while I sit alone at a coffee shop, there always had to be some form of noise. I needed to feel other people’s presence around me. Hence why I was horrified when I realized what I had gotten myself into: Summer time party of one. All of my friends were spending most their summer’s working, traveling, or cherishing time with family. As for me, I stayed in town to see my friends. Obviously, not a cohesive mix of agendas going on.

Now, August 1 is approaching. Two months after I had a cry fest on my front porch as my boyfriend drove away to Houston, and one month after I had an anxiety attack in Subway because I realized I was about to actually live and be alone for the first time in my entire dang life. An extrovert taking on the introvert’s lifestyle.

UPDATE: I am doing so, so fine. GREAT, actually.

For a person who (apparently) loves being around others, you would think that the first day after my only other roommate moved out and left me to a house of my own for all of July would be spent under the blankets crying and/or binge eating. Instead, I spent the late morning drinking coffee and getting lost in a leisurely book. Then, I spent early afternoon screaming words I don’t know to Ed Sheeran’s Spotify playlist while deep cleaning the house (something I always love doing). I then spent late afternoon exploring every single aisle in the grocery store to find new tasty foods to experiment with. Finally, I spent the rest of my evening painting flower pots, watching "Clueless," and literally shoving popcorn in my mouth. I felt entirely free.

The next few weeks of July would be spent exactly the same way, mixed in with a few Target shopping sprees, continuous arts-and-crafts-a-thons, and a plethora of girly movies from the 2000s. In a silent house and silent town, I could actually hear myself think again. In my free time, I wasn’t mentally repeating to myself a to-do list full of collegiate and extra-curricular tasks, like I did all of Junior year. Instead, I was mentally repeating to myself a personal to-do list, “Create, inspire, love, make, enjoy, relax, and live.”

I never fully comprehended the thrill of having zero obstacles in the way of doing everything you want to do, when you want to do it, until living alone this summer. With no one to call and not much to do, I have found that my thoughts become utterly pure and child-like. It is possibly the most exciting, personally unique experience I have yet to have in college.

This summer was the mental-detox I knew I needed. I simply didn’t know I would need it in this manner: alone. I was freed from myself; the self that fed me nothing but a load of crap, stress, and obligations for an entire year; the self that I think we all challenge to drown out sometimes with constant entertainment, friends, or social media.

I found the cure to all of that. Figure out what you want to do or think about when there is nothing to do or think about. I would bet a beautiful confidence and sense of peace would come glowing out of your heart. There is nothing more satisfying than learning about yourself.