At the beginning of this first year of college I was depressed, anxious, and terrified. My home life was abusive and toxic growing up, my last relations was sexually and physically abusive, and the only relief I had felt was my time with friends or the hospital. The beginning of college was turbulent but also a major point of learning. While I knew life could exist without abuse while living in it for so long I struggled to see it ending and getting here I was “waiting” for it to start, I lived on edge of people starting to yell at me, or for a fight to start. I was scared whenever my mom called that it would be an argument. But I also “couldn’t” not pick up because my mom might yell at me. I was tired and was having chronic pain which didn’t have any explanation, finally in march so just over a month ago, I was diagnosed with PTSD officially, this has honestly come as a relief that it isn’t all just in my head or an overreaction.
In December I went home for the first time I actively avoiding going home up until this point. By now my friends knew who I was here and respected my identity they made me feel a sense of community I often hadn’t before. When I went home the arguments were similar to before, the usual questions I’ve always gotten about when I will come to my senses on my identity or when I will return to the church were there as always. The usual arguments and fights didn’t stop but they seemed easier, having gone to college I now knew there was an escape. Being home while difficult I felt a sense of nostalgia as high school went on I became more reserved and less social, many at my school seeing me as reclusive. I went from someone who was loud and social to someone people would ask me if I was ok, but even than I had close friends and I was able to see many of them. It became nostalgic to sit in my friend Alex’s garage again. I saw my friend Remi he is someone I consider a sibling and the one person I can believe will always be there for me.
As my first year at college is coming to an end I often find myself reflecting on it, I do often wish I did “more”. I don’t fully know what more means but I feel often that the people around me have deeper friendships, gone to more events, and simply go out more, but looking back on it this year was a year of growth and therapy became a consistent part of my schedule and helped me heal far more than any other point in my life. I feel more prepared mentally even through the struggles of working through trauma. I wish I was more consistent in showing up to class, eating, and stability but I am able to process my emotions far better and form social connections again which I was unable too before now.
cookerwinter-evhin 