This summer, I sat in a Panera and stared at a Google Doc titled “Life Things! Adulthood! Whee!” while silently crying and avoiding eye contact with the uncomfortable high school couple sharing a mac ‘n cheese bread bowl across from me.
Somehow, I couldn’t read “renew passport” or “schedule eye exam” on my Google Doc list without getting chills. And when my best friend failed to instantaneously respond to a text, I managed to convince myself I was friendless. This is only one of several episodes of inexplicable anxiety I began experiencing midway through my second year.
At first, I was convinced sheer laziness was keeping me from stellar attendance, strong work ethic and productively checking items off my list. Then, I told myself the second-year slump was making me feel socially detached. It was only when I caught myself walking to my history class, touching the doorknob and promptly turning around and walking home — for the third time — that I realized my mental state was a very real and unsustainable issue.
Unfortunately, no matter how many emails end in a brief, generic line about CAPS, the University environment as a whole seems to spend more time reinforcing the idea that “These are the best four years of your life” than fact checking it.
Somewhere between chugging our third Greenberry’s to power through another night at Club Clem and pretending to be interested in our slurred conversations on the Trinity balcony, many of us forget — or worse, neglect — to seek sustainable happiness. In our effort to fulfill the high expectations placed on a college student who loves their school, we can fall short on the checklist for content, emotionally stable and fulfilled human.
Shockingly, but encouragingly, simply reaching this realization as I sipped my coffee and regained my breathing was the catalyst I needed to start getting better.
I will undoubtedly set up camp in Clemons by the end of the month, and I will still spend occasional weekend nights out. But somewhere between school, social life and all of my different commitments, I’ve realized I need to ignore the some of the expectations placed on me and plan time to do little things I enjoy every day. This tactic maintains my sanity and furthers my legitimate interests. Even better, I haven’t experienced a spell of dread-filled anxiety since I came to this conclusion.
I can’t say I’ll earn a 4.0 this semester, and it’s unlikely I will ever achieve that movie moment where I walk into a party and everyone yells “AYY, look who’s here!” But I can say with confidence I plan to more genuinely enjoy my time at the University this year, and I don’t expect to cry into lattes at Barracks anytime soon.
Sofia’s column runs biweekly Fridays. She can be reached at s.mckewenmoreno@cavalierdaily.com.
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