I’d like to think of myself as a pretty social person. Like many of my peers, I spend my day working hard in class and studies, trying to stay involved on campus, but above all doing my best to be a part of each person’s life that I meet. That’s what really brings me joy. I just like to share a smile, some time, and experiences. I like to live my life knowing it’s not just me alone in the world. Life, to me, is a collection of small recollections that matter more to both of us than one of us.
The craziest thing is that if you asked me about these same ideals and beliefs a year ago, my answers would be totally different. I didn’t realize until recently, when I met up with a friend to catch up over a cup of coffee, that what I went through is called growth.
To paint a picture that still seems like fresh paint on my canvas of life, my first semester in college was an absolute utter living hell.
It’s hard to change environments; I think everyone knows that. Everyone gets a little homesick. Everyone has to adjust to the new life, new people, and new challenges. Personally, it took me a little longer than I thought it would.
I came into college with the idea that making friends would be as easy as it always had been. I thought that it would just come to me. In reality, I lost my sense of self. I didn’t socialize. I didn’t try to make friends. My daily routine consisted of waking up, eating alone, going to class by myself, and returning to my room. My room was my place to hide. I didn’t want to show my face in the world that seemed to function perfectly fine without me. I felt as though everyone else had their lives together, and I frankly had no idea what to do. I felt lonely in a sea of thousands of people. I felt lonely in my dorm with hundreds of new students going through the same struggle. And worst of all, I felt alone in my own room. I spent my entire 19th birthday alone in my bed, waiting for the day to pass and the noise to stop.
I was completely hopeless. My parents were looking for therapists, but I refused. I was too stubborn to ever get a tutor in school. So to me, it was an insult to myself to ask for help.
My grand solution was to leave. To transfer and never come back. To give up in a way where no one would notice I left.
When life went sour, I never wanted to give up on the chance for change. I promised myself and my family I would complete a year here at UF before leaving to give it another chance.
I hope no one has to go through what I did, and if you are please don’t act like me. Help is totally fine. Life is too short and too fast to go through it all alone. After all, there are certain people that you miss out on if you quit too soon.
On that note, there are certain people in your life that you should cherish: your parents, your family, your best friends, etc. For me, I had saviors. I had two special people grab their own paint and splatter my canvas with their colors. They saw my painting dry and said, no there is more to this painting than you think.
To be completely honest, I was defeated, and I had given up on myself. However, these two people had not. First was my roommate. I’d like to think he had a pretty set life. He was very happy, social, and to me had the world going for him. In his busy schedule, he made an effort to invite me places like the gym, to eat, or to go play basketball just us two. I had no idea why he began to do this, but to this day I see him as one of my closest friends and savior.
My other savior was my best friend to this day: a girl on my floor. For no reason, at least in my mind, she kept inviting me to hang out with her and her friends. As the time passed, she integrated me into her friend group on the floor. Sure it was all girls, but for the first time all semester I had a place where I belonged.
Of all my experiences in life, I think I choose to share this one because it taught me the most about myself. I would never give up this experience for anything because the person I was before and the person I am now are very different. I now love life for what it is. I appreciate people for who they are. And I cherish everything that is given to me.
I am no longer scared and hopeless. I am happy and ambitious. I tell this story because I don’t want you to feel like your lowest low will remain there forever. It won’t. At some point, something will change. It is ok to feel hopeless, but never be hopeless.
I’d like to think of myself as a pretty social person. Like many of my peers, I spend my day working hard in class and studies, trying to stay involved on campus, but above all doing my best to be a part of each person’s life that I meet. That’s what really brings me joy. I just like to share a smile, some time, and experiences. I like to live my life knowing it’s not just me alone in the world. Life, to me, is a collection of small recollections that matter more to both of us than one of us.
Love, John, a UF Student
