First, she took away my energy. Orientation was more tiring than exciting. Limbs encountered too much friction to enjoy even the simplest of games. Strangers seemed too irrelevant to ever become friends. Why bother at all? The Green was brown, and the summer sun turned colors into a blinding, white hue.
Then, she took away my curiosity. My passion to learn faded into a disability to focus. My eyes followed the professor, but my mind was occupied: “why does this matter?” Assignments, exams, projects…everything became parts of a list. Life seemed like one big checklist. It was meaningless.
She battled my health. She convinced me to look for fulfillment in toxic, grease, and sugar. Sleep and movement became scarce.
At some point, she stole my ‘self’. The person I became I did not recognize. My hobbies boring, my emotions numbed, my relationships strained, my laughter turned pretend – she left no part of me untouched.
I was told to ignore her. “Fake it until you make it”, they said. Get yourself to the gym. Smile and drink. Make conversation. Laugh, laugh, laugh.
I couldn’t do it.
How can simple things be so difficult?
What is wrong with me?
What they didn’t tell me: she doesn’t leave. Even years later, she continues to stay. Never seeming to bulge. Her presence becomes a part of life. Seeps through my entire body. My head heavy, my heart harder than before.
What they also didn't tell me: Time helps. When I felt like I could never truly live with her before, today I accept her. Try to love her. Allow her to stop fighting so hard for my attention.
Three years later, at a particularly liberating moment, I walked across Main Street and saw both color and her.
