The independent news organization of Duke University
I quietly clung onto the selfish hope that everything could be frozen in time so that leaving could be as simple as hitting pause and returning, as effortless as picking up from where I left off.
This time, no longer shackled by my overthinking tendencies, I will be brutally honest if I must and less afraid to infuse my writing with more personality.
The most difficult part of being a Duke student for me isn’t the classic case of being afflicted with imposter syndrome—I have enough confidence in my abilities to know that I deserve to be here. Rather, it is the frustration of not being able to fully leverage the plethora of resources at my disposal, of being hamstrung from reaching my full potential by something as “trivial” as anxiety.
Tearing down the walls I had built around me and allowing others to enter the private fortress where my innermost thoughts and emotions resided was exhilarating and unnerving in equal measures.
Being alone most of the time meant that I was forced to befriend myself, and as I got to know her a little more, I grew comfortable with her.
At some point, I got sick and tired of running on this prison of a hamster wheel, of endlessly chasing after this feeling called “happiness” that seemed increasingly nebulous and unattainable.
Santa may not have left a present at the foot of my bed last Christmas, but in many ways, he had already given me the greatest gift of all—a gift that will keep on giving long after he is gone.
I am still struggling and will likely continue to over the next four years. But if I could do it all over again, I would.
[My probation list] is a safe space where my friendships exist in a state of constant flux, a Goldilocks zone where people can come close but not too close for comfort, a healthy buffer that preserves my sanity in the crucible of college socialization.
As much as we love (or hate) the food, mealtimes are so much more than just nourishment for the body—especially in a communal environment like college.